New Human

The inner most doors of Olympus having completed their opening cycle now begin to close once more as Nemesis strides past them and toward the waiting congregation of Hecate, Athena and Ares. She is surprised, and more than a little relieved, that it is only the three Olympians greeting her and not hundreds or even thousands of citizens proclaiming her brilliance as they chant her name and sing songs about her deeds.

“Welcome home sister.” Ares beams with an enormous smile.

Ares has to admit that he has missed Nemesis even if he feels guilt for them having robbed her of her memories and the ability for her to grieve for her sister. In fact, Ares knows that Nemesis believes her sister Eris died in the war. That only helps to compound the large Olympians sadness as he looks upon the smallest and youngest of them with kind eyes.

“It’s good to be home.” Nemesis replies as she casts her gaze from the sad looking Ares to the sympathetic looking Hecate and then finally over the ever calm expression of Athena.

They are all just as Nemesis remembers them and each of them looks barely a day older. She knows that one of the effects of their augments is slower aging, though they at least are still aging. She on the other hand is the same and will be the same, to the day she dies, however long that may be. She doesn’t age. The nanotech augments make sure of that. She never considered the implications of such a thing in the early days, or even when she’d volunteered for the project, but it is something that she thinks about now. The others will age and die, but she won’t. Though, it will be a very long time before that happens. Nevertheless she has to admit that it bothers her. She hates being the survivor in a world where billions of others had not been so lucky. But that is her curse, her burden to bear. After all, she is technically and supposedly the most advanced of the Olympians. She has always wondered if that is why she’d survived where many others had not, but she will never be able to know that for certain.

“You look…tired.” Athena offers as diplomatic and calm as ever.

Nemesis smiles and nods, pleased that there are some things that never change.

“Had a run-in with some friends.” Nemesis replies sarcastically.

“What?” Hecate asks confused.

“How did you fair?” Ares questions.

“Still standing aren’t I?” Nemesis retorts much to the amusement of Ares who bellows with laughter in response. It’s clear he still yearns for a good fight.

“Anything we should be concerned about?” Athena offers.

“Don’t know yet. But first I need a check-up.” Nemesis says in conclusion.

She doesn’t want to idly chit-chat here, even if they are alone, which she doubts that they truly are. No one is ever alone in this city, unless you’re at the peak of Olympus that is.

“Sure.” Hecate agrees with a nod before turning to Athena and Ares.

“We’ll catch you up.” Hecate then says to the two Olympians at her side.

Athena simply nods before her hologram disappears.

“Catch you later sister.” Ares says with a bow before his hologram too disappears. Though, he feels bad for not having physically gone to greet Nemesis like Hecate.

“Is that all I get now, holograms?” Nemesis asks as she joins Hecate’s side as they head for the lift.

“You know Athena, always being the diplomat.” Hecate replies with a roll of her eyes.

“And what about Ares?” Nemesis questions. She gets Athena but Ares, it isn’t really his style and it saddens her to think how much things have clearly changed.

“Orders from Athena. Something about settling some disputes or some such. If I’m honest I didn’t listen. But he would have been here to greet you in person if he could. You know that.” Hecate says trying to reassure Nemesis who is clearly disappointed.

“Yeah. So how are things?” Nemesis asks changing subject as the pair step onto the lift that will take them up to the peak of Olympus and Hecate’s clinic come archive research centre.

“Do you really want to know?” Hecate queries.

“Yeah.” Nemesis replies honestly.

“We could do with you here Nemesis.” Hecate answers with just as much honesty.

“Is there something wrong? Is Zeus OK?”

“Everything is fine. It’s just not the same without you here. We are so few in number and the demands on us continue to grow.”

Nemesis doesn’t know what to say. She can’t tell Hecate that she is searching for someone, but she doesn’t know who, she’ll think her mad. Maybe she is. She doesn’t know. Instead her excuse for leaving is always the same; she’s checking the world, for survivors, for signs of new life, for an end to the fallout and the firestorms. She doesn’t know whether Hecate or the others believe her, but they never stop her. In fact, Hecate’s words now are the closest any of them have ever come to trying. She realises this as the lift comes to a soft gentle stop before the doors slide open, silently.

“Come. Forget I said anything.” Hecate offers with a soft smile as she steps off the lift and into the entrance of the Olympians home with its high vault ceilings and intricately decorated walls. The walls adorned with paintings, tapestries and sculptures.

Anyone other than an Olympian would likely think the art of this place real, but it is not. They are simple recreations made to give the illusion that this place is some kind of grand old palace fit for Gods.

It had not been the choice of the Olympians but the citizens who believed their great saviours should live in lavish luxury and want for nothing. However, the truth is that each of the Olympians hates the place and for their own reasons.

Nemesis follows Hecate gingerly across the entrance space and down a wide white walled corridor that makes her feel small, which compared to the rest of her ilk she is. At five foot seven inches she is three inches shorter than Athena who is the same measurement shorter than Hecate, while Ares towers over them all by more than a foot. Zeus on the other hand projects himself to be of a similar height to Hecate, though his true size had been somewhere between Ares and her.

Nemesis wonders where the old man who had been their leader in the war is, but knows he is always watching, even if he rarely says much anymore. She wonders if it is her that is the cause of that, but doubts it. Zeus, even in his organic body had often been a man of few words. He did however; give great rallying speeches, Nemesis recalls as she follows Hecate into her clinic.

The room is vast, more library than clinic with rows upon rows of racks within which mass storage arrays containing the history of humanity and its technology, what they still possess, lies. Nemesis knows some of the past has been lost as she turns her attention back to Hecate and the reclined suspended chair between them.

Hecate says nothing and simply motions for Nemesis to take a seat, which she does, feeling the soft cushions mould around her body.

“What’s the problem?” Hecate asks still stood at Nemesis’ side.

Nemesis simply closes her empty left hand tightly in response. In the blink of an eye her nanoblade appears its damaged surface as clear as day. The surface of the blade is scorched and burned making it misshapen and jagged along its cutting edge.

“My worlds.” Hecate exclaims in surprise as she studies the damage with great intrigue.

“Plasma burns?” Hecate queries as she looks to Nemesis who simply nods confirmation after a few seconds.

“What did you do deflect it?” Hecate queries jokingly.

“Cleaved it.” Nemesis offers honestly.

“What do you mean, cleaved it?” Hecate questions with a raised eyebrow.

“Come on; tell me, the whole story.” Hecate demands as she cocks her head right, her face painted with an expression of concern and interest.

Nemesis recants the story, in the briefest of forms that she can manage, concluding that she cleaved a plasma shot that she didn’t have time to dodge and that is how her blade has ended up in this state.

Hecate can tell that Nemesis is annoyed by the damage to her nanoblade. She has always been proud of her ability to keep her weapons in top condition, and this, at least in Nemesis’ mind, is a blemish that doesn’t sit well with her.

“Don’t worry. I can fix that up in no time.” Hecate reassures as she retrieves a cylinder of liquid nanometal, which she carefully withdraws a few drops of with a pipette and then with a steady hand squeezes two small drops onto the damaged blade. At first the liquid nanometal sits in place, clear globs upon the blades surface, but then the metal reacts. It smoothes and flattens itself, repairing the damage as it wraps over the jagged edge and then hardens making the blade a continuous unbroken piece again.

Nemesis looks to Hecate and blinks surprised. She didn’t know it would be so easy to repair her blade. But that doesn’t mean she plans on damaging it again. It had been a choice between the blade and her life and her life couldn’t be replaced, the nanoblade could.

“Go on try it out.” Hecate encourages as she smiles warmly at Nemesis who seconds later slashes the blade left and right unable to discern where the damage had even been on her blade. Then she releases her grip on it so the liquid metal can be absorbed back into the pours on her palm. That too goes flawlessly much to the delight of Nemesis who reforms the blade again, which is still perfect, and then lets it return to her body for the final time.

“Thank you Hecate.” Nemesis explodes with joy as a wide smile sits across her face.

“You’re welcome Nem.” Hecate says with a smile as she uses her old pet name for Nemesis.

It’s been a long time since Nemesis has heard anyone call her that, but she has to admit that it feels good. Maybe she’ll stay longer this time before going back out into the wastes.

“Now about those attackers.” Hecate then states with a serious tone.