Евгений Попов – PROPHECY (a collection of speculative fiction) (страница 3)
Ellis and John exchanged glances. Ordinary work? No, today it was anything but ordinary.
Part 4. Hera's Strategy
The Abode of the Gods. Hera's Chambers.
Hera gazed into her magical mirror, watching Hades's preparations and the CIA agents. Her woman's heart sensed trouble. Hades, with his grim resolve, would not stop at half-measures. Zeus's wrath would be terrible once he understood what had transpired.
"Persephone," she called.
From the shadows emerged the beautiful but sorrowful goddess, Hades's wife, condemned to spend half the year in the realm of the dead.
"Yes, my queen?"
"Do you love your husband?" Hera asked without turning around.
"More than life itself," Persephone replied softly.
"Then you must save him. From his own darkness. And in doing so, save this foolish, worthless world."
Hera handed Persephone a small vial of mountain crystal, within which shimmered a liquid like molten gold.
"This is Aphrodite's potion. It is stronger than any oath, stronger than death itself. You must descend to Earth. Inhabit the young woman named Ellis. She is an agent following Hades's trail. You will slip this potion into your husband's glass, and he… he will remember what love is. Not the grim passion for dominion, but bright, sacrificial love for a mortal—for you, in Ellis's form."
Persephone took the vial, feeling its warmth.
"But… Zeus? His wrath? My plan?"
"Your plan, child," Hera finally turned and smiled, "is better. Beauty and Love, sent by Hera. Remember the prophecy? We did not devise it. It was preordained. Fulfill it."
Persephone vanished in a golden radiance.
Part 5. Meeting in Washington
Morning of April 30, 2030, a café in Washington.
Ellis sipped her cold coffee, nervously tapping her finger on her tablet.
"Look, John. Surveillance cameras spotted Peter Meyers this morning. He was walking and smiling to himself. But the strangest thing—when he passed a church, the statue of an angel above the entrance… cracked. On its own. Analysts believe it's a field of divine energy."
"Got it," John nodded. "So, tonight at the restaurant. We'll sit next to him. If necessary, I'll take him in the restroom. Quiet and clean."
Suddenly, the bright morning light filtering through the blinds condensed into a single ray. It pierced the glass, passed through Ellis, and she felt as though a warm sun had ignited in her chest.
"What was that?" John stared at her in astonishment. "You're glowing? I saw that ray enter you!"
Ellis blinked, feeling a strange lightness and, at the same time, incredible strength. She laughed—for the first time in a long while, genuinely and brightly.
"You're imagining things, John. Lack of sleep. Don't worry about it."
But within her, a quiet voice like a whisper of wind now spoke:
Part 6. The Golden Torch Restaurant
That evening, the restaurant gleamed with lights. Peter Meyers sat at a table for four, grimly studying the menu. He felt within himself an alien, colossal force, waiting for its hour to go to Yellowstone and unleash the end of the world. It was a heavy burden.
"Oh, how lovely this place is!" a bright voice rang out. "Young man, would you mind if we joined you? Everything else is so crowded!"
Ellis, radiant and beautiful, and John, playing the part of a slightly tipsy admirer, already stood beside him. Peter wanted to snap at them to leave, but when he looked at the girl, he felt a strange jolt in his chest. Her face… he felt as though he had known her for a thousand years.
"Um… yes, of course," he muttered, surprising himself.
They ordered dinner. Ellis chattered incessantly; John kept the conversation going, subtly assessing Peter. Peter, however, could not take his eyes off Ellis. She was beautiful, and there was something in her beauty—a saving, calming force—that drowned out Hades's call to destruction.
Twenty minutes later, a waiter appeared (a barely visible earpiece in his ear—a backup agent). He carried a tray of drinks. Everything was going according to plan.
"Your orange juice, sir," the waiter said, setting down the glass, but he "accidentally" knocked it with his hand. The glass tipped over directly onto Peter's trousers.
"Oh, God! Sir, I'm so sorry! For heaven's sake, forgive me!" the waiter fussed.
Peter jumped up, irritably brushing off the juice.
"Damn… Where's the…?"
"Restroom to the right down the hall," John quickly offered. "We'll watch your seat."
As soon as Peter disappeared through the door, John stood up.
"I'm going after him. Ellis, be ready."
John slipped into the corridor. Ellis, acting on a sudden impulse, poured the contents of the vial with "Aphrodite's potion"—which the CIA had given her as "truth serum"—into Peter's glass. Then, feeling a strange unease, she followed John.
She entered the restroom and saw the scene: John had pressed a gun to Peter's temple.
"Quiet, 'godling.' Time for a little chat," John hissed.
And then Ellis ceased to be herself. Her body moved on its own. Her hand drew her pistol from her belt, and before she could think, three shots rang out. John slumped to the floor without a sound. A pool of blood spread across the tiles.
Peter stared at Ellis, his eyes wide. She stood trembling; the pistol fell from her hand.
"I… I didn't mean to…" she whispered. "It wasn't me…"
"Come," Peter said firmly. He took her hand, and they returned to the dining room. Within a minute, the undercover waiter, glancing into the restroom, would raise the alarm, but they had a minute.
They sat down at the table. Ellis, moved by some intuition, raised her glass and Peter's.
"Drink with me," she said.
They drank. And the world turned upside down. Time stopped. The noise of the restaurant vanished. They gazed at each other, and through their mortal shells, their divine essence broke through.
"Persephone…" Peter breathed, and his voice acquired the depth of the ages. "My wife… you found me even here?"
"Hades," her eyes filled with tears—tears of joy. "Queen Hera opposed your plan. She sent me. Do not do this. Do not become an executioner. Return home. To me."
Hades gazed at her. The darkness within him dissipated, replaced by a light more powerful than any magic—the light of true love, transcending death and time.
"Very well," he said simply. "For you."
Two blinding rays of light—Hades's dark violet and Persephone's golden—burst forth from their bodies, merged into one, intertwining like two trees, and soared into the sky, piercing the restaurant ceiling. Peter and Ellis simultaneously lost consciousness, their heads falling onto the table.
The rushing waiter, police, medics… They were revived. They remembered nothing of the gods. They only felt a strange, aching tenderness toward each other, looking at a stranger. They drank some water and went their separate ways, forever preserving the image of one another in their memory.
Part 7. The Thunderer's Wrath
The Abode of the Gods.
Zeus hurled lightning into the heavens, unleashing a storm of unprecedented fury upon Earth.
"Hera!" he thundered. "You have defied my will again?! You have disobeyed the King of the Gods!"
Hera stood before him, calm and majestic.
"Yes, my husband. You were wrong. Destruction would not have solved the problem. I safeguarded Earth. I fulfilled the ancient prophecy given at Delphi. I sent Beauty (Ellis's form) and Love (Aphrodite's potion), and they saved the world. Look."
In the magical mirror, they saw Hades and Persephone embracing in their chambers. For the first time in millennia, Hades was smiling.
Zeus watched this, and his wrath subsided. He embraced Hera.
"You are wise, my wife. Forgive me. But I must at least let off some steam."