I was desperate to claim credit for some fascinating invention that would bring in research grants. There was no way I was moving back in with my mother.
Dionysus always said that a moderate amount of wine could awaken one's inner Muse. Of course, his interpretation of "moderate" had a tendency to fluctuate depending on how drunk he happened to be at any given time. Nonetheless, I thought the time was ripe to follow his advice.
I arranged to meet some friends at a rowdy bar, although I rarely frequented such places. Besides, a Slavic god was slated to come and provide free samples of his new wine that was distilled rather than fermented. I was hardly one to turn down free alcohol, or free anything, for that matter. This was one of the reasons my home was cluttered with so many useless items. This always dismayed my nymphs, who were forbidden from clearing the floor of my private quarters.
Upon my arrival, I breezed through the Very Important Deity line and skimmed the room for people I knew (and cared to associate with.) I spied Peneus' tall, lanky frame next to a circle of torches and settled into a cushion next to him.
I waved down the server and ordered a small goblet of the weakest and sweetest wine. "Water it down," I instructed.
"How is your explosive agriculture research?" Peneus asked.
"How is your sex life?" I replied rhetorically.
"Actually, there's this Nereid-."
I sat up. "Do you like her? Do you even know her?"
"I haven't had sex in a year!" He looked constipated. "I don't care if I like her."
"I haven't had sex in fifty," I said sadly. That was a conservative estimate.
"That's because you told that bigmouth god you had a disease."
"It was supposed to be funny!" And flirtatious.
"You also told him that you wanted to rub him over with sweet and sour sauce."
Fortunately, Hestia came by to herd the crowd farther away from the torches, which were secured on tall stands.
"Out of the way, everyone!" she shouted. "These torches are going to shoot a lot of sparks tonight, stay behind the yellow line!"
I hastily complied. When it came to fire, Hestia always made good on her promise.
"Hey Hestia!" someone called. "My hearth is all blocked up, can you come by and clear it? My house is freezing!
"I'm a pyrotechnician, not a maid," Hestia muttered.
Nor was she a maiden, as she was often teased. Her line of work required her to wear heavy, flame retardant robes that covered her entire body. Her unflattering attire, which included a sooty veil over her face, supposedly protected her flesh from both sparks and masculine attention, the latter of which was completely unintentional on her part. Nonetheless, if she was a maiden, that made as penetratable as a stone statue.
The fireworks went off, the music crescendoed to a halt, and a god climbed on top of a table. He held a funnel to his lips to amplify his voice.
"I am Radegast!" he bellowed. "I come all zee vay from zee Volga, because I love zee Greek people!"
The roars of approval caused a small earthquake. Glasses crashed to the floor and the torches swayed from the ceiling.
"I am zee god of hoz-pee-tality and crops. Vare are all zee err-zen and friendly gods in here?"
This earned him another bout of screaming. As a fellow earthen deity, I chose to clap in a dignified manner. I was not drunk enough to yell like a savage, nor did I plan to become that way. Ever.
"If you combine hoz-pee-tality and crops, zee logical result is a potato distilled dreenk to provide to your guests, no? For zee first hour, zee potato dreenk is on me!"
The music blared again and the crowd whooped. However, one person was clearly unhappy.
"Some gods will ferment anything," Dionysus sniffed. "Potatoes come from the ground." He refused to accept one of the tiny glasses that were being distributed.
"It's distilled, not fermented," I informed him.
The sample size cups did not even have a stem, and I could almost wrap my thumb and forefinger around the rim.
"Dreenk, you Greeks!" Radegast shouted. "Put your hands up!"
We did as we were told as scores of bar attendants sprayed the air with the potato liquor. Some people opened their mouths to catch the droplets. As soon as my cup filled up, I took a sip and coughed.
"Not like that!" Apollo showed up out of nowhere. "You gulp it down all at once." He demonstrated and bit a wedge of lime. I was very impressed, but wasn't sure what the lime was for, it appeared to be a masculine display of strength. Before I could ask, he ran off to find a bed mate for the night.
Peneus and I clinked glasses before we attempted to consume the vile liquid. "To explosive agriculture," I grumbled.
"To finally moving out of your mother's shadow," Peneus smirked.
The flavor of this potato wine was truly appalling. However, it was free, which made all the difference. I mixed sugar into my next cupful.
Fortunately, the burn and the taste became less noticeable with each drink. Also, the effect of the alcohol worked surprisingly fast. I started to see its appeal.
I wandered to look for Mithra, a diplomat and friend from Persia. He was sitting next to a lovely blond goddess I did not recognize, although that could have been because everything was blurry.
Peneus clapped him on the back and gripped his hand. "So you seem popular," he grinned.
Mithra laughed good-naturedly. "That would have been perfect if you had said that more quietly."
I narrowed my eyes. "Are you going to rut this tramp tonight?" I sang. I felt it was a perfectly innocent question, I could not understand why all the males in earshot winced. Someone made me finish a cup of water, "for the good of all the menfolk trying to get lucky tonight," he told me.
I was soon insisting on buying everyone drinks, especially the potato wine, since I somehow felt a special connection with Radegast. He was a god of crops, I was a goddess of the harvest. I did not want to disappoint my Slavic friend, for some reason he kept encouraging us all to purchase more of his fine product.
#
Bang! Bang! Bang! I surmised that someone was knocking on my door, and rather insistently at that. I clutched my head and curled up in bed, hoping one of my attendants would answer the door soon and send the person away. However, an official looking ghost appeared at the entrance to my bedroom. Her cloudy form flickered, as if she was somewhat solid.
"I represent your financial institution," she said in a cool, professional tone that must have been perfected by centuries of dealing with hysterical clients. "I want to verify some suspicious expenses that were made on your credit disc last night. We have reason to believe that you may be a victim of credit fraud."
My bank was located in the underworld, along with everyone else's riches, so it only made sense that a dead spirit would come to haunt me about my expenditures. I glanced at the small iron circle that was poking out of my pouch. For once, I wished it had indeed been stolen.
The ghoul flipped through her notes. "Did you charge a total of 40,000 gold ingots to your credit tablet last night? At the Giddygod Bar?"
Forty thousand?? That couldn't be right. I did some painful calculations in my throbbing head as I recalled the many new friends I had made in the course of a few hours.
"Yes," I sighed. The ramming in my skull suddenly became worse. I secured a laurel wreath around my head to help alleviate the pounding. It was one of Dionysus' most useful inventions. If only he could also invent a locking mechanism on credit discs!
She pulled out a tablet. "Please sign here."
I did so.
"And here. And here. And here. Thank you." She floated away with a skip in her gliding.
"I'll be paying off the interest for the next decade," I groaned. "Especially now that Hades raised the interest rates."
#
I dug, scraped, and dusted away to reach the older layers of the grounds. While the other gods were interested in actual relics, I wanted to excavate individual atomos that had yet to bond. I sketched their structures, noted their properties, and tried to break each atomos apart.
The poultry security guard, the one who had apprehended me on my first visit here, was perched in a tree and glaring at my every move. When I glanced at him, he made a jabbing motion towards his eyes with his second and third digits, and pointed at me with a claw, in an I'm watching you gesture.
I empathetically pointed at my own eyes in the same way, then held up a single finger, the middle one, to be exact.
I was glad to see that our cultural differences did not keep him from comprehending my message. Satisfied with my diplomatic accomplishment, I bent my head once more.
I had had to special order a micro-woven sieve from Egypt so I could use it to sort the atomos from the dirt. It was a tedious task, literally trying to pick out sparkling specks among the reddish grains of earth.
To my great annoyance, I had to store different types of atomos separately because some of them would bond too easily. Once atomos combined to create mass, I could not separate them again.
I found that the upper levels of soil had increasing levels of a foreign substance that I could not quite identify. The presence of these tiny white grains seemed to have a correlation with soil exhaustion. Also, the estimated age of the soil levels that were less fertile seemed to match those of the giant scratches in the ground.
Thirsty, I went to the sea for a drink. My friend, Yu Huang Da Di, one of the Chinese gods, was already crouching on the beach, washing a basketful of vegetables. Since we were both new to the area, we had naturally become fast friends. When I knelt next to him, he greeted me in Prakrit, our preferred common tongue. Neither of us was as fluent in Arabic, and we spoke different dialects of it.
"Hello, Ko-rei!" he beamed.
I responded in kind as I conjured a gourd and dipped it into the sea. I declined his offer of salad.
Yu Huang Da Di took a bite of a cucumber and spat it out immediately. "This is nasty!" he cried.
"Next time, make sure your vegetables are fresh."
I drank deeply from the gourd and spewed everything out. "It is the water," I choked. Somehow, the awful taste was strangely familiar. I stared at the miniscule white flecks floating in the water.
I thought back to my infant days when I used to play with atomos. Some would repel each other while others would collide and disappear, turning into a white crystal that had the most distinctive taste. I soon learned to stop putting these crystals in my mouth, for they would make my throat beg for water.
"Stupid us," said Yu. "There is sign saying the water is not potable."
"Since when does anyone read instructions?" I asked.
#
I initially thought little of the thirst crystals, I could find no purpose for them. I also could not understand why they were present in seawater and the upper levels of soil. Then I eventually deciphered some ancient texts that referred to saudaem kleryit, or SALT for short, a substance that was apparently important for preserving food, enhancing flavor, and even softening bathwater. I found that I also liked it on the rim of a goblet of imported MesoAmerican ambrosia, or amborita, as it was called.
I eventually noticed that two types of atomos always fused quickly to create those thirst causing, white crystals from my childhood. One of the atomos had 11 balls in the center cluster and 3 spheres orbiting it. The other had 17 and 3, respectively. I made a note of this using the notations I had developed to identify each atomos.
"11-3alpha + 17-3alpha = thirst crystals (saudaem kleryit?)."
It was decent start.
My notes on atomos piled up as high as a mountain, so I had to find a cave in which to keep my tablets. Despite all this effort, I could not force the single atomos to break down into a smaller unit. I knew it was possible, I just could not fathom exactly how. Nonetheless, my work was sufficient enough to present to the world. I began to write a research tablet based on my initial findings. Starting it was easy, finishing it was another story.
#
I stared at my sheet and tapped my stylus. I lacked coherent research to substantiate my thesis, not that I had a thesis at all. What was the point in having divine powers if I couldn't make a tablet write itself? I scrutinized what I had already written so far.
"Atomos are tiny, spinning, sphere-like things. They are very important. They make up all matter. They are like the four elements, but more complicated. Please publish this thesis, I really need a lot of fame and credit. Thank you."
No, that would not do at all.
#
One day, when I returned from another excursion in the Indus Valley, I found a small mountain of letters where my nymphs always left it for me. I shuffled through it. Mother.. Mother.. Mother… the latest was dated 2 hours ago and the earliest was yesterday. Amazed, I walked into my room. Mother was sitting on my bed, looking worried and weepy. She was fretfully petting my pet snake, Longous. When she saw me, she looked immensely relieved.
"Ko-ko! Where have you been?" she cried? "You haven't been responding to your letters for an entire day! I know you don't like it when I visit but I just had to see if you were home… Your nymphs didn't know where you were, I nearly turned them into sirens…"
I looked at my floor and desk, which was usually cluttered. I could actually see the surface. She followed my glance.
"I cleaned up a bit for you dear, the nymphs refused to do it, said you didn't like it. I kept stepping on everything, so I organized everything for you. Isn't it much nicer this way?"
I didn't answer. No one. Touches. My. Mess. I took a deep breath.
"I hope you invent something that becomes famous dear. It's about time too. Hermes invented the lyre when he was just an infant. Apollo is a great singer, what talents can I brag about?"
"Where is my file? It was right there on the floor, underneath my old robe."
"I put all your tablets on your desk."
"Now I don't know where anything is!" I wailed.
"I don't see how you could have known where anything was to begin with!"
This went on until my cat meowed to be fed. I doubted she was really hungry, but she always liked to be in the center of attention. I had named her Jealous for a reason.
#
A few moons later, I realized that my credit mishap from the Giddygod Bar was the least of my problems. By this time, my research tablet was not quite complete but I was already was aching to turn it in and never lay eyes upon it again. I knew it was terrible, but I was weary of rewriting it. Besides, it had to be sent by the next sunrise. I still had an entire night, as the sun was just about to set. I looked over the conclusion for what felt like the hundredth time.
It is my theory that the Indus Valley flourished because ofatomos, not despite it. After all, there are many higher quality substances, such as "sdteeil" or "saudaem kleryit," that are only found in this area and cannot be created with any combination of air, earth, fire, and water. On the other hand, it appears that ambrosia is the only matter that can be exclusively produced with the elements.
Unlike the four elements,atomosapparently have the ability to bond and form matter without divine intervention. This holds some interesting implications for the long-gone society of the Indus Valley, whose gods had obviously used an atomic system. In the absence of elements, the self regulatingatomosmay have relieved the gods of what would have been an impractical workload.
Another interesting quality is thatatomosseem unaffected by the moods or tempers of gods. While a god under great stress may inadvertently alter the elements around him to cause a natural phenomenon upon the mortal earth,atomosseem to be completely independent of a god's disposition.
Contrary to popular belief, there is much evidence to suggest thatatomosare actually a refined and improved version of the elements. It is very possible that there was a time when the use ofatomoswas commonplace, at least in certain parts of the world. Somehow, the magic ofatomosmust have been lost with those who used it and dismissed as the lesser version of the elements. Once atomos are fully understood, it is my ultimate ambition to phase out the elements with atomos in a step by step process.
I hesitated, then rubbed out the last line with the blunt end of my stylus. The impression of the words was still faintly legible, but not deep enough to show up in a mold.
I sighed and drew a hand over my face. If I had written on wax, stone, clay, or papyrus, I could have easily fixed the mistake with magic, but the volatile composition of fire and earth in metals made it difficult to alter or replicate lead.
My writing was an abomination, absolutely not my best work. The research was weak, the wording was poor.
In retrospect, I should have spent more time on the tablet instead of challenging Ares to a chariot race, staring blankly into space, shopping for a new diadem I did not need, practicing martial arts with Athena, eating massive amounts of frozen ambrosia, diving to catch my own seafood, blighting the crops of a mortal farmer who had used my name in vain, painting a self portrait, taking singing lessons with sirens, attempting to win an argument with my mother, casting vermin into the underworld to annoy Hades, chasing squirrels, writing satirical fiction, enchanting a mirror so it could talk back, having a fireball fight with Artemis, trying to convince five of Aphrodite's men to engage in coitus with me at the same time, offering guided tours of Olympus, and etcetera, etcetera, etcetera. I had nothing to show for these adventures, perhaps with the exception of my marvelous painting.
I glanced ruefully at the guidelines for publication.
"The research tablet must be dated and sent by the sunset of the 495thday of the stellar calendar," it read.
I gave a start. The sunset? Of the 495th day? I looked at my calendar. That was tonight! And the sun was setting- right now! I had to catch Hermes before he went off duty. I knew he must be making his last rounds to collect mail right now, unless he had already gone home for the day.
I grabbed a blank sheet of wax and melted it over the lead tablet. I half yanked, half peeled off the carbon copy, almost tearing it in the process. Then I slammed my hand on top of the impression and concentrated, willing it to multiply. The next moment, I found myself trapped in the middle of towering piles of wax leaves.
I blasted my way through the barrier, tripped over some stray pages, and ran outside, clutching a fistful of sheets. I spied Hermes in the distance, he was still collecting mail from my neighbors while taking swigs from a blue and silver bottle. "Rouge Bovigne," it read. Meanwhile, the sun was rapidly sinking into the hills.
"Hermes!" I shouted. He turned and his jaw dropped. Everyone stared at me as I raced over and thrust my research tablet into his hands, making him slosh his refreshment everywhere. "Date it now!" I screamed. Looking positively frightened, he fumbled through his pouch, pulled out a seal, and stamped in on my correspondence, just as the sun slipped out of sight. I sighed with relief.
"You have wax all over you," Hermes told me. He gingerly plucked a chunk out of my hair.
"And I spilled your drink all over you." I apologized and used my sleeve to dab at the red stains on his garment.
Then I noticed his sandals, which were normally a pristine white. They were now completely soaked in Rouge Bovigne, and a very bright red. The wings on his ankle straps flapped irritably.
"I also ruined your shoes," I lamented.
"Nice shoes!" someone remarked.
"They do make your feet stand out," I agreed. "They look… bigger." Also, the unnatural pigmentation of his drink was probably better off on his sandals rather than in his stomach.
Hermes grinned. "You know what they say about big feet." He handed me a bundle of mail. "Big shoes!"
#
A few weeks later, I received a letter informing me that my tablet had been accepted for publication. I was also invited to speak about my research at the 8th Centennial Conference of Environmental Deities. I smiled. Being the daughter of a famous goddess did have its advantages.
Risking the wrath of Athena, I commissioned a team of spiders to spin me a new silk robe for the Conference. She had a thing about arachnids, but I had an entire world to impress.
#
When the Conference finally came, it was even duller than the eyes of a Maenad with a hangover.
The foreign god droned in a language that resembled coughing and grating. I stifled a yawn and held the seashell away from my ear as a nymph whispered translations into another shell that was connected to mine by a long string. Unlike gods, nymphs had the gift of tongues, so many were employed to act as instant translators during global gatherings. Unfortunately, the Opening Address was not worth comprehending.
"Our worlds are vastly different, and yet we all share a common origin," came the small voice from the shell. I flexed my numb feet as a blue goddess discreetly stretched all four of her arms under the table.
The speaker continued, oblivious to his bored audience. "…We agree that in the beginning, there was a Shared Nothing from which our progenitors came. No matter which part of the world it comes from, virtually every historical account claims that the world started with some form of darkness and water."
The yellowish god sitting to my right tugged at the throat of his leathery outfit. Having no skin of his own, he wore what bore a suspicious resemblance to flayed human skin. Knowing the Aztecs, it probably was. I did not need to understand his native tongue to deduce what he was saying. "Not the creation speech again," the Aztec groaned.
"…It was Demeter who first discovered that this Shared Nothing gave birth to a united land mass in which all of our respective earth mothers were huddled together. But they soon grew tired of this constant embrace, so they scattered across the water and each paired with the heavens above her. Each set of sky and earth developed in distinct ways, but we cannot deny our common past.
"This means our soil is the same. Our methods of tending the earth should be the same. This means we have a reason to meet. Thanks to Demeter's persistent research on the Common Creation Concept, we are here."
One of the goddesses at my table fiddled with the placard in front of her.
"…With that, I welcome you to the 8th Centennial International Conference of Environmental Deities. It is my honor to introduce our keynote speaker Kore, none other than the daughter of Demeter. She is here to present her latest publication."
I sighed. Always compared to Mother. Nonetheless, I graciously smiled and walked to the center of the stage. The audience members were clearly disappointed. They were all thinking, why couldn't it have been Demeter? Well, I'd show them.
"Thank you," I started. A chorus of unfamiliar tongues repeated my words into seashells. "I bring from the Indus Valley an ancient and discarded magic, possibly the equals of the elements."
I beckoned to the stagehand, who brought me a platter covered by a domelike lid. I pulled off the cover and revealed a collection of colorful, spinning shapes that had been enlarged to the size of my hand. They hummed intensely as some floated in the air and others rolled around on the tray.
"Each of these balls is a single atomos that has been amplified to be over a few billion times its natural size." I froze one of them in mid orbit and enlarged it so it was almost as big as I. "As you can see, atomos consist of a cluster of smaller spheres in the very center. This core is surrounded by several independent orbs that keep moving in a circular motion."
I reached into the center of the atomos and pointed at the core. "Each of the balls in the center has either positive or neutral energy. The spheres that spin around this bundle are negatively charged. Atomos use some invisible force to combine at the outmost layer of the negative orbs. It is my belief that air, earth, fire, and water are not alone in being the smallest units of matter. Atomos may have once served the same purpose-…" I demonstrated this by combining 11-3alpha and 17-3alpha to make thirst crystals, or saudaem kleryit, to use the scientific term.
I eagerly looked at the audience to gauge its reaction, but most of the gods seemed disappointingly indifferent. When I completed my presentation, the applause sounded lackluster, perhaps it was only so to my hopeful ears.
I offered to take questions, but I regretted this as soon as the first reporter stood up.
"Eris from Olympian Monthly," she said smoothly. "You know, as well as everyone else, that elements are perfectly functional, correct?"
I frowned. This was a press conference, not an interrogation. "Of course they work-."
"But you want to replace elements, which we are all familiar, with an outdated magic, correct?"
"Atomos aren't outdated, they simply needs to be revived-."
"Isn't it true you see yourself at the head of this revival? What do you have to gain from promoting a magic that only you know how to use?"
Several of the audience members suddenly became wide awake. Reporters scraped away at their tablets.
"I never said-."
With a flourish, Eris whipped out a wax sheet and read off of it with emphasis in all the wrong places. "'Once atomos are fully understood, it is my ultimate ambition to phase out the elements with atomos in a step by step process.'"
My cheeks flushed. This insolent demi-goddess, how dare she…
"Did you write this?" She thrust the sheet in the air for the world to see. "With your own hand and personal knowledge?"
In a sleep deprived state, you lowly scum, I thought. I struggled for a more appropriate answer, there were children present, some of them looked no older than 50.
Leave it to Eris to twist a benign suggestion that was never meant for the public eye. To my immense gratitude, someone handed me a wax copy of my tablet. I grabbed it and squinted at the bottom. Faint but there it was, the last line I thought I had rubbed out properly. "I- I, well-." I fidgeted.
"Yes or no, Madame!" she roared.
"Yes!"
Everyone gasped with the melodrama normally accorded to a soap play.
"That was from a first draft," I admitted carefully, struggling to regain my composure. It was too late to deny what had already been done, people would think I was merely trying to take back a statement because of its unanticipated controversy. "But I meant in the long run, if it is even feasible, we do not even understand it completely yet… and only partially…"
"No further questions," Eris said dismissively. She sat down with the smug air of someone who had exposed a criminal. The other reporters jumped from their seats, shouting questions, but the moderator hurried to the podium.
"I'm afraid the time has elapsed for questions!" he shouted over the noise. Then he introduced the speakers of the panel, one of whom included the celebrated Emesh of Sumeria, god of summer."
The rest of the conference was rather eventless. Eostre, the Anglo-Saxon goddess of spring, gave a lecture on flower pollination, Peko from Estonia taught us his special way of growing barley… I doodled on a scroll of papyrus until the Closing Address.
Although I usually disliked having to make meaningless small talk, I lingered to speak with my fellow environmental gods from around the world.
"I remember you!" someone chuckled. His nametag identified him as Rongo-ma-tane, the Maori god of cultivated crops and food. "You're the one who used to insist that seasons are caused because the earth mothers run around the sun gods!"
My cheeks burned like Hephaestus' furnace. I had abandoned that silly hypothesis decades ago. Everyone knew that seasons changed whenever Atlas shifted the weight of the sky on his shoulders, pushing Apollo's chariot closer to a different corner of the earth. At least, that was how it worked in the Greek world. I heard there was a place where some poor goddess caused winter whenever she mourned the loss of her kidnapped daughter.
A giant feathered serpent slithered up to me and started hissing. I eyed his human translator with disapproval, the boy had not even bothered to comb his hair for the job. "Aren't you a spring goddess? Isn't your expertise in tending flowers?"
"If you must attribute a specific season, autumn would be more appropriate. Technically, I'm a goddess of the harvest," I explained. "It's a very broad field that encompasses all parts of the environment, including its composition."
The interpreter began to hiss and the snake looked at me dubiously.
It did not take me long to realize that no one was taking me very seriously, even though I was the daughter of famous Demeter.
Somewhat discouraged, I returned home to Enna, which was far from Olympus and close to one of the few remaining nymph-owned nectar bars. On principle, I refused to buy anything from the green mermaids who were gaining a rapid monopoly on the beverage business. When I ordered an Ambrango Apricot Attack, the Oceanid at the counter asked for identification.
"What?" I blinked. I came here all the time and had never been bothered about it.
The nymph gestured at a large red and yellow sign that read, "Not immortal, No ambrosia. WE TABLET." "We were almost shut down by a sting operation," she apologized. "New policy, even regulars gets tableted."
I rummaged through my bag and recalled the good old times when immortals had been few enough that we were all known by name. Thanks to Zeus, gods were now as common as weeds, the bad kind, not the kind that I liked to grow.
After a few minutes, my order was ready. "Kore, Ambrango Apricot Attack," called the employee.
I morosely sipped my drink as I wondered if I would ever be able to complete my project. If my mother had failed, what were my chances? Drops of rain began to fall from the sky.
"Oh bother," I muttered. I tried to cheer myself up to make it stop raining, but it was to no avail. My mood did not improve when I passed a news rack and the unflattering headlines on the tablets.
"DAUGHTER OF FAMOUS SCIENTIST CLAIMS MATTER IS MADE OF TINY SPINNING BALLS. IDIOT GODDESS INSISTS THAT ELEMENTS ARE OBSOLETE. KORE: A FRUIT THAT HAS FALLEN FAR FROM THE MOTHER TREE," they screamed.
It only began to rain harder. I rushed back home to find a most interesting letter. It was the sender that surprised me the most.
To my beloved child,
I congratulate you on the publication of your research tablet on atomos. However, there is no reason for you to meddle in such obsolete and pointless magic, much less try to reintroduce it. It is my desire that you spend your time on more constructive matters. Your uncles Hades and Poseidon agree with me. I am your father and your king, you will obey me.
Your father, supreme ruler of the gods, lord of the heavens,
Zeus
I narrowed my eyes. I could not understand why Hades, Zeus, and Poseidon would care about an obscure branch of magic that was just a theory. Unless, of course, the Big Three did not want my discoveries to receive widespread credit. Zeus, especially, hated having anyone outdo him. He, the king of the Greek gods, would want to be the first to discover anything so important. If a new and powerful magic were to be harnessed, he would want it done under his terms, under his control. He must have been furious when my mother had proved the PanGaia theory! Still sore from the negative reception at the conference, I inscribed a reply on a clean tablet.
Father,
If you are not too busy engaging in the rape of maidens to read this personally, please note that I use the word "Father" in the loosest of ways, not unlike your scruples. I am grateful to you for giving me life but you have spawned enough to form five legions, so perhaps this is not an exclusive honor after all. Judging by the attention you have granted me during my short five hundred years of life, I am a mere private in your army of loyal children. Even so, this humble foot soldier has often heard that the general will occasionally take the form of a pig or a swan during his conquests. May I suggest that a cockroach's body is most suitable for you? A cockroach is filthy, difficult to kill, and breeds like no other. Death to ignorance and petty jealousy.
Your beloved child,
Kore
I knew this letter would never reach him, he had an administrative team that briefed him on important correspondences. Still, it gave me some satisfaction to raise the hackles of his lackeys.
#
When I landed on Olympus, I squeezed my chariot in between a pair of tremendous monstrosities. The less decorative of the two sported elephantine horns, arm length spires on wheels of solid gold, and room enough for eight fat people. Six gleaming horses stood before it, tossing their manes and eating all the grass. I shook my head. Every time I came to Olympus, it appeared that chariots grew in size and spouted fancier features. I unfettered my own two horses from my plain, double capacity ride. Excessive trimmings only add dead weight, requiring more horsepower. More horses meant more waste and grass consumption.
I strolled down one of the many ramparts of the palace and thought that the stony gray of the looming walls distracted from the beautiful green scenery. Although Olympus had undergone many renovations after the Titanomachy, Zeus did not wish to compromise its original function as a fortress. This meant doom for an aesthetics-discerning eye.
I let out an undignified yelp when a strong hand gripped my arm and pulled me into a deserted corner. I spun around to see a familiar face, only it was deathly white and filled with a mixture of anger and panic.
"Mother!" I cried. I held my aching forearm and looked at her with astonishment. I had never seen her so frenzied.
"I saw the research tablet you presented at the latest Conference of Environment Deities," she hissed. "As did the rest of Olympus."
I drew back. "You act as if I had written a proposal to overthrow Zeus."
Mother's eyes flashed in response. "That is essentially what you have done," she snapped in a loud whisper. "One would pause to think what atomos represents to Poseidon, Hades, and Zeus, to the existing order!"
I felt stung. It was understandable that the press would twist my words, colleagues would dismiss my findings until I found better evidence, but I thought at least my own mother, a fellow scholar of atomos, would give me some encouragement, even if it meant swallowing her pride. Instead, she was making up silly excuses for me to abandon my painstaking studies, research that had been inspired by her own obvious interest in the subject. I had hoped she would finally see me as an intellectual equal, not an embarrassing burden.
I wanted to yell and scream, but that was what children did. "I would think that you would value scientific progress above academic rivalry. How is an obsolete form of magic any threat to the three kings? I think you are the one who planted the insecurity in their heads. You do not want anyone to succeed where you had given up or discover something better than PanGaia!"
Her eyes widened and her jaw clenched. She opened her mouth and closed it again but no sound came out. Instead of waiting for her false denials, I stormed away, feeling somewhat betrayed.
My temper cooled when I saw my dear friend Prometheus, straining to drag his giant rock behind him. After he had served out his sentence of getting his liver pecked out each day, he was invited back to Olympus as long as he brought the boulder to which he was chained. I offered him the contraption that was tucked under my arm. It consisted of a wooden board with four small wheels attached on the bottom.
"It's called a skait board," I explained. "It's a Sumerian invention."
Inwardly, I sighed. Yet another culture had made a useful invention while Greeks had nothing to boast of except the PanGaia theory. I imagined my next encounter with a foreign god.
Sumerian god: Ah, Kuh-ley. We just created the skait board, very popular item, it is. Have the Greeks invented anything new yet? I know your mother discovered the Common Creation Concept, but that was so very long ago! One would think that you would be the one to make your pantheon catch up with the rest of the world. (condescending chuckle)
Interpreter: I admire your mother for her discovery of the Common Creation Concept and am certain that you will be just as great. Do you have any new projects planned?
Me: (strained smile)
As I helped Prometheus mount his boulder on the wheeled platform, I talked about the conference and the lack of enthusiasm for atomos.
"Perhaps this is just as well, Prometheus. Some day, Greek civilization will exceed that of any other. You gave the mortals fire, perhaps I shall give them atomos." How soon, I did not know.
Prometheus turned very grave and raised a manacled wrist. "Look at me child. You are still young. If you anger the rest of the pantheon, you may end up with a worse fate. They will not be happy with man possessing a magic that even Zeus cannot understand."
"And as of now, you alone know how to manipulate atomos," said a new voice.
"Athena," I muttered through grit teeth. Another dissuader. Just what I needed.
She patted the owl that was sitting on her shoulder. "You hold a tremendous power, be certain it does not corrupt you. At least with the elements, there are many who can control it."
I crossed my arms. "I think you are forgetting that even if anyone understood atomos enough to exploit it, there is only a limited supply. The study of atomos is mostly for historical insight, it serves little practical purpose."
"That is not what your research tablet said," Athena pointed out.
I wanted to shatter something. "Has my mother poisoned you all with unwarranted paranoia? The three kings have short attention spans; they will forget their woes when they preoccupy themselves with an unfortunate maiden. As for my mother, she is nothing but a bitter failure at both academia and scholarly pride. Is there anyone else who is so worried about atomos?"
Prometheus and Athena exchanged uneasy glances before cajoling me into joining the party downstairs.
As could only be expected, Dionysus was suavely pouring wine into everyone's goblet and instructing them to savor the "smooth, rich detail of the Babylonian ambrosia grape." He swirled his cup expertly. "Aged exactly one thousand two hundred years, it wafts a sweet aroma with subtle hints of blackberry and chocolate." He inhaled deeply to make his point. Everyone else imitated him in an effort to appear cultured.
Although I was making a point to not look in his direction, Hades caught my eye and gave me a look that could have frozen the fire in a satyr's loins.
I scowled. I did not know why he hated me so, I think it had to do with a nymph or something, it was such a long time ago.
I sneered at his gaudy robes of silvery blue and the strands of glittering jewels that covered him from throat to toe. Perhaps he was cold, or maybe he was trying to see how many layers he could wear before the weight sank him into the earth. He posed as people with no taste marveled over his ridiculous costume.
Hades was always overdressed like the god-king he was or underdressed like an expensive love-slave. Either way, he consistently fulfilled his reputation as the Rich One. However, I always thought of him as Zeus' decorated eunuch.
I was still contemplating whether to make a snide remark when he turned away as Aphrodite began to engage him in conversation. I felt sorry for the goddess of love, once Hades began talking, he never held his peace.
To add to my irritation, our guests seemed drawn to Zeus' every word. Ever an excellent host, he was engaging all the important nymphs and demi-gods in conversation. Even the centaurs chuckled appreciatively, although they tended to lack a sense of humor. He had a way of making people warm up to him, even though his poised smile never quite reached his cold, blue eyes. His eyes, my eyes. I had been told that I had his eyes, and this had been the catalyst for the termination of a most beloved friendship. I shook the thought away.
If Hera intimidated with her aloofness, Zeus did it with his debonair. However, I would never put anything past him. There was no point in refusing him, because he always won what he wanted, whether the giver was willing.
Zeus acknowledged me with a smile and a raised cup. I returned the gesture, playing the role of a dutiful daughter. The only thing I was glad to inherit from him was his pragmatic taste in attire. Although I knew that he normally wore simpler clothes, he was dressed up for the occasion. Even so, he looked like a pigeon standing next to his peacock of a wife.
Hera's splendor always rivals that of Hades, which was a rather remarkable feat. The queen of the gods was not one to be outdone by some cave-dwelling fop.
The cave-dwelling fop actually took the trouble of striding over to me. Hera glides, Hades stomps around everywhere as if he were squashing grapes for Dionysus. Hades' teeth were so clenched that I could barely make out his words. "You wrote a tablet about atomos?"
"Yes," I replied tersely. I generally tried not to waste any breath on him.
His bejeweled chest swelled. "Obviously, you do not think before you write."
Whatever that was supposed to mean.
"Obviously, you do not think before you speak." I turned on my heel and avoided him for the rest of the night. Unfortunately, he had his means of communicating with me even if not in person.
Hermes brought me a letter the very next day. I presumed it was from Hera, since it was inscribed on a sheet of gold. To my amusement, I noticed that his famous winged sandals were still bright red.
"Nice shoes!" I smiled. I stopped smiling abruptly when I opened the letter, which was, in fact, not from Hera.
Dearest Kore,
I understand that your immaturity, irrationality, and lack of ability to think drive you to the most imbecilic tactics, but please note that there are less destructive ways to show childish contempt for your father. Your grudge against one god need not undermine a delicate hierarchy that prevents anarchy and disorder. I sincerely hope that you will save me the trouble of reserving you the worst seat in Tartarus. I can only speak for myself, but I would greatly prefer it if you were nowhere near my kingdom or anywhere else I may be.
Lovingly,
Hades
I muttered and tossed the inscription aside. Foolish, egotistical Hades. He always had to be the center of the universe. Like my mother, he dreaded being outdone by anyone. If I were to present a breakthrough on atomos, I would become the icon of the Greek pantheon. He would forever be blotted out in obscurity, no matter how he dressed to make people gape in shock and awe.
I wrote back:
Dearest Hades,
I understand that your insecurity, ego, and fear of progress keep you from realizing that my academic pursuit is more than a means to agitate my father, but please try not to be blinder than a stereotypical prophet. If you were to love mortal beings as much as you loved power, then you would understand that I am only furthering their best interests at the minimal expense of our kind. I did not think you would reserve seats in Tartarus, since one is usually condemned after a fair and final judgment. I can only speak for myself, but I would greatly prefer it if your capacity for logic was anywhere near your kingdom or wherever else you may be.
Lovingly,
Kore
I opened the door to leave the letter out for Hermes but stopped short when I glimpsed a moving object in the sky. I watched with morbid fascination as an iridescent purple chariot headed straight towards my home. The giant peacocks strained against their reins as they flapped and bobbed fervently. Peacocks, honestly. Sometimes Hera was just a little too much for me.
The goddess landed her vehicle with incredible grace and breezed through the doorway in a flutter of jade green brocaded with pearlescent flowers. I grumpily followed her inside.
"What brings you to Enna?" I asked with feigned politeness. What was the point of living away from family if they kept showing up at your doorstep?
She did not bother to answer until she was comfortably seated. Then she carefully poured two drinks while holding her flared sleeve out of the way.
"Help yourself," I muttered under my breath. I didn't like sharing my good ambrosia. That stuff was expensive.
"You young ones think you are invincible," she said bitterly. "Your father did not swallow you as soon as you were born. You did not have to fight for survival the moment you were freed from your father's stomach. Castrating him was the only way to win our freedom, as he had castrated his own father before us."
One of the reasons I had moved away from Olympus was to avoid hearing history lessons from those who had lived through it.
"Within the pantheon, there are only six of us who remember the War Between the Gods. We the Third Generation, the Grandchildren of the Sky and Earth, we remember what you children have only read about, the glorified 'Titanomachy.'"
I did not think it was very accurate to call anyone the Third Generation, when there were obviously much older ancestors in other parts of the world, but I held my tongue.
"We have seen how easily kings come and go. To the Third Generation, which fears being toppled like the two generations before it, atomos represents a new and unwanted change. Atomos requires that we distance ourselves from our very source of power, the means by which we can cause darkness, plague, and flood to show our displeasure and demonstrate our might." She chuckled mirthlessly. "But I have none to lose. Neither do Demeter or Hestia, for that matter." She absentmindedly stroked the golden feathers that were always pinned to her bosom. The color matched that of Zeus' hair exactly.
I sat up straighter. "So why is my mother so afraid of atomos? It was once her greatest passion in life."
"That is her story, let her tell you herself." She leaned forward in a rustle of silk, her regal face filled with alarming intensity. "Know this, your mother has been wronged. The only way to exact justice is to see her dream of atomos through." She sighed. "Perhaps it would be wiser if you were to continue your atomos in secret. You are a product of my husband's infidelity and my sister's betrayal, but my blood runs in your veins as well, since I share a father and mother with your father and mother. I will not let Poseidon do to you what he has done to your mother or what Zeus has done to me."
I frowned. Was she making up vague hints to manipulate me into becoming her pawn? "How do you benefit from atomos?" I asked suspiciously.
She looked slightly defensive. "Queens fall with their kings, but I do not care as long it hurts Zeus at least as much as he has hurt me. If you should succeed, he will dangle me by my toes from the sky no longer, he will never again shun my bed for that of another."
"I sympathize with your plight, but you speak of treason," I replied coldly. "You have deluded yourself with the notion that atomos is a deliberate attempt to overthrow the existing order. This is not so. It would not even be possible."
"Whether it is so, the kings think so. That is all that matters."
"Atomos is not a political weapon. I will not be a party to your personal quarrels." I rose from my seat.
Hera stood as well. The golden feathers heaved on her bosom. "You must see for yourself," she said sharply. "Hades commands the waters that collect every memory, including the one your mother wishes she could abandon forever."
Without further ado she swept out, leaving me with nothing but doubt and the scent of lilies.
I was uncertain about the accuracy of her claims, but there was only one way to find out.
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