Chapter 9
Marshaling the troops
Logos, the Grid, Underneath the Pacific Ocean
Here, underwater, the walls and ceiling of the Grid were not as well defined as Logos would have liked them to be. The pillars were still there, but crooked as the whole passageway drooped and bent off to one side. Water was already eroding away at the outer walls, miniscule leaks dripping onto him and the briefcase he carried. The original Labyrinth was not meant to run underwater, at least not for long distances. Scaffolds and crude marble columns could only do so much against erosion and the water pressure from 8,000 leagues under the sea. Daedalus had tried his best to reliably get him across, but there were several other undersea routes that needed renovation, and the New York-London passageway was clearly more important. Koga and Gabriel would be waiting in China, but that was all the Europe branch could spare. Additionaly, Agent Ignite was stationed in the area. Metatron and the others, however, would still be in the UK working on the New York-London from the other side, while the California-China fell into disrepair.
Nevertheless, Logos struggled on. He was committed to his task. He had done it for 2,000 years now, and the journey took much longer back then. In the 1900's he had to go by boat; this was nothing. He looked up, at the faraway surface of the ocean. Night was gaining footholds and twilight was fighting a losing battle. Logos trudged further into the grid, the inky darkness swallowing him whole.
Logos, Liqian, Yongchang County, China, 23:00 local time
The entrance to the grid in Liqian was hard to find. It was in a grassy knoll just outside of the small town, and its entrance was a trapdoor well hidden with grass and foliage. He had his beacon on, so Gabriel and Koga knew exactly where to find him.
"So what's this trip about? Why are you over here?" Gabriel asked nosily.
"The final Judgment is just around the corner. I want us to be at full strength. You can come along too, if you like." Logos responded curtly. He tolerated Gabriel and Orion, but they were never really friends. Logos took things too seriously.
"I'll do just that, then" Gabriel confirmed, beaming.
They walked about a mile over to an oddly shaped hill, more like a ramp than anything else. It looked like it had been cut in half, with the three Agents facing the flat side. While, grass grew on the sloping, hilly side, their side was just a wall of coarse dirt. The surface was smooth and unblemished except for two small, curious marks about a foot off the ground. Logos and Koga stuck both of their right index fingers into the holes, like they had done so many times before, and channeled their auras.
The trapdoor slid back noiselessly, revealing a simple spiral staircase that was lined with cobwebs. Without a word, Logos and Koga clambered in. Gabriel soon followed, if a tad reluctantly.
The staircase seemed to go on forever. There were no sources of light as they descended, but Logos had brought a flashlight with him, and Koga morphed his head into some kind of cat, so he had better night vision. Gabe had originally complained about the dark and how he had trouble with the steps, but stopped after they got so far underground that his whining began to echo.
After an eternity, the daring spelunkers reached a wide hallway at the foot of the stairs. Unlike the staircase before it, details covered the hallway and the door at the end of it. The hallway floor was paved into three wide strips of stone, the far right and far left angled slightly to encourage visitors to go down the center. Little alcoves in the walls housed foot-long rods that steadily emitted light. The door wasn't tall, but it was wide and countless runes were etched into the rock.
This was the quintessential "aura lock", created by Agent Angel in ancient times. Basically, to open it, one had to channel the Mist around him or her to a certain wavelength, usually linked to an emotion. As the creator of Ethos, Angel knew the most about the Mist and its various uses, and it showed. Some demigods could use it to make a cover story more convincing, but they were only scratching the surface. Even Logos didn't quite have a handle on Ethos. It was an amazing power.
Explanations aside, the emotion that was needed to open this door was bloodlust. Logos wasn't really all that violent, but Koga excelled in this area, so he opened the lock.
The door swung open to reveal a small balcony, simple and unadorned. It curved sharply to the right, where it led into a room bristling with panels and equipment. A faint silhouette of a tall figure was just visible in the dim light.
"What's so special about this?" Gabriel grumbled, still limping down the hallway.
Koga smiled and shook his head. "If only you knew." He sneered.
Logos was more patient. "Why don't you come here and see?" he invited.
Gabriel stepped onto the balcony and looked over the edge. That's when it hit him. The room was so large, that from the balcony they were at, they could not see the other three walls. As Gabriel looked down, he saw that the floor was a diorama of small clay figures posed in various ways. They were clearly all over the floor and no doubt covered the entire room, even the parts he could not see. After a bit, he realized that there were several floors of clay figures, tiered on top of one another, like some bizarre office building.
"I still don't see what the big deal is."
"Leave, then. No one's stopping you." Agent Ignite stepped out of his control booth. He was about seven feet tall, hair slicked back in a ponytail and dressed in a sharp tuxedo. "He turned his attention to Logos. "What's he doing here? Are we giving out free tours now?" he asked drily.
Gabe stared. "He's Prometheus. That's Prometheus. What's a Titan doing here?"
"Calm down, both of you." Logos ordered. "Gabriel, Agent Ignite has been working with us since Ancient Greece. In fact, he is the Vice-Commander of the Office of Intelligence, under me."
Gabe stared some more. "I thought you didn't have a Vice-Commander."
"That's because he has been working on this project the entire time." Logos was getting impatient. "Ignite, it's time. The Final Judgment is just around the corner."
Prometheus concentrated for a moment, the mist swirling around him. "Whenever you're ready." He prompted, still channeling his aura for the ordeal to come.
Logos took a long look at what was about to be the culmination of millennia of effort. "Rise." He said, in a voice scarcely louder than a whisper. The command echoed around the cavernous chamber, repeating itself several times.
At once, well over 2 billion sets of lifeless eyes flickered on with a green, eerie light. It took a second for the various posed figures of clay to rearrange themselves so they were standing tall, with both feet together. Then, as one, the NWO Terracotta Army shifted into a swift salute.
Gabriel's jaw dropped.
"We come here every 100 years to update the soldiers on how to fight." Logos explained to Gabriel. "The basic mindset was that it was short enough to not be too out of date if fighting occurred at the latter half of the century, but long enough to avoid suspicion and make sure that we were making significant upgrades."
He opened his briefcase, which was full of designs for various automatic weapons and ballistic vests. He gestured for a few of the living statues to move closer. "These are the 'teachers', they are usually one of the newer additions that are tasked with teaching the rest any fighting techniques or martial arts that might have come into being over the past century. " He gave the blueprints to one of the clay soldiers, who began to study it.
"Just them?" Gabriel asked, incredulous that less than 50 teachers could teach the rest with any kind of efficiency.
"As others learn, they teach too. And only a few need to know how to make weapons, the rest only need to know how to use them. About 100,000 are tasked with producing new soldiers and weapons."
"How are they moving, thinking?" Gabriel asked in wonder.
"Logos" Logos said, referring to his namesake, a skill that had become so important to him that it had become his name. "Prometheus uses Logos to act as a kind of hive mind for them. That's why he has to stay here all the time, to make sure that production continues and the army is continuously updating."
As the statue perused the blueprints, Gabriel was staring at the statue with just as much concentration. The statues were ugly things, but they were well made and there were hundreds of millions of them. Each statue had eyes and ears, but nothing else that signified a face. There were thousands of variations. Some were seven feet tall, some were three. Some had layers and layers of mud and dirt covering them like armor, some were cracked and hollow on the inside from centuries of service. This teacher in particular stood about 6 feet tall, wore flimsy clothes made from dust and grit, and was armed with a sword made of stone and a clay gun based on a 1903 Springfield rifle. The bullet velocity was slower, and it wasn't as accurate or durable, but the corpses of police officers or military personnel around the world could always be scavenged once they were shot.
The first teacher had finished his observation of the blueprints and passed it off to another. It ventured into the crowd, bringing tales of machine guns and fighter jets. Prometheus-Ignite turned to Logos. "So what's the plan?" he asked. It occurred to Gabriel just how powerful Logos was. Although he wasn't really a fighter, he was bossing around a Titan. That had to count for something.
"Daedalus knows. He's adding this location to the Grid. Our soldiers enter the Grid and station themselves at strategic points all over the world. Then, it's just a matter of waiting until the Final Judgment." On cue, two doors wide enough to fit a plane through materialized on the two walls adjacent to the control booth.
"How many teachers do we have, Ignite?" Logos asked.
Gabriel spoke instinctively. "One, right? It hasn't even been five-"
"Quiet." Prometheus growled. "There are 157."
"Divide the soldiers into columns. They can learn along the way." Logos commanded
Prometheus walked to the edge of the balcony "All units, move out!" he yelled.
Thousands of clay soldiers marched into the grid, poised to strike, poised to conquer.
More key concepts are introduced here, and if NWO wasn't threatening before, they certainly are now! Speaking of large numbers, more and more people are reading this (30 upon release to 50 upon release) for which I am eternally grateful.
Apologies for the delay. I was sick for a couple of days and had some pesky tests to make up. Also, I have begun reading Tale of Two Cities for my english class, which takes up much more of my day than I would like. As always, if you have something to say, please please please review!
