Ilium

59 The Plains of Ilium

Mahnmut may have been the first to notice what was happening in the sky, sea, and earth around Ilium, but that was because he was expecting it. He hadn’t known what he was expecting . . . but certainly not what he saw now.

What do you see? asked Orphu on the tightbeam.

Ah . . . gasped Mahnmut.

A rotating sphere some hundreds of meters across had appeared in the sky several thousand feet above Ilium. Then a second one rotated into view just above the battlefield, centered between the city and Thicket Ridge. Mahnmut turned quickly and saw a third sphere pop into existence above the Achaean encampments, then a fourth one suddenly appearing several miles out to sea immediately in front of the scores of fleeing Achaean ships. A fifth one appeared to the north of the city; a sixth one to the south.

What do you see? demanded Orphu.

Uh . . . said Mahnmut.

All of the spheres showed flashing colors but were suddenly filled with stabbing fractal designs; then all resolved themselves into multiple images of Olympus Mons, seen from different distances, viewed from different angles, and framed by different perspectives; now all showed the Martian volcano and the blue Martian sky. One of the spheres settled into the plains of Ilium ahead so that the Martian ground in the hundred-meter-wide circle extended smoothly from the Trojan soil. The huge sphere to the west flattened to a circle in the sky and then sank until the Martian ocean was level with the Mediterranean Sea. Water surged back and forth between the two worlds. The Achaean ships tried to drop their sails, men quit rowing, but the high-beaked ships could not stop in time and sailed through the circle of boiling turbulence into the Martian northern ocean, with white-sloped Olympus Mons looming in the background. No matter which direction Mahnmut looked, he could see the Martian volcano, even through the spheres now resolving themselves into circular portals high in the sky over Ilium.

What’s going on? shouted Orphu over the tightbeam.

Ah . . . said Mahnmut again.

Scores of black flying objects hurtled through the circular portals in the sky, out of the circle slicing into the sea behind Mahnmut, even through the ground-level portal—more arch now than circle, since its base was under Trojan soil—opening less than a hundred meters in front of Achilles and Hector and his men. The flying objects threw themselves through the sky like giant hornets and Mahnmut noticed that they were black, barbed, sharp-planed, not much larger than Orphu, and powered by visible pulse-engines in their bellies, sides, and sterns. The machines had bulbous, black-glassed cockpits and were festooned with whip comm antennae and what looked to be weapons—missiles, guns, bombs, ray projectors. If these were new-generation chariots from the gods, they’d gone high-tech industrial in a hurry.

Mahnmut! bellowed Orphu.

Sorry, said the little moravec. Almost stuttering, he hurried to describe the chaos in the skies, seas, and fields around them. He had trouble catching up to real time.

What are Achilles and Hector and all the other Greeks and Trojans doing? asked Orphu. Running?

Some are, said Mahnmut. But most of the Achaeans around me and the Trojans near your ridge are running into the closest circle-portal.

Running into it? repeated Orphu of Io. Mahnmut had never heard his big friend sound flabbergasted before.

Yeah. Achilles and Hector started it—they shouted, bellowed something, held their spears and shields high, and just . . . well . . . rushed into it. I guess they see Olympus Mons and know what it is and just . . . attacked.

Attacked a Martian volcano? repeated Orphu. He sounded even more thunderstruck.

Attacked Olympos, the home of the gods, said Mahnmut, sounding pretty stupefied himself. Oh, my!

What “Oh, My”? demanded Orphu.

The circle-portal-thing behind us, stammered Mahnmut. Dozens of Greek ships went through it . . .

Yeah, you said that.

But there are hundreds of ships visible through the portal.

Greek ships? asked the Ionian.

No, said Mahnmut. Most of them are LGM ships.

Little green men? Orphu sounded like a poorly engineered voice-synthesis device, sounding each word out as if he’d never heard it before.

Thousands of LGM. On hundreds of ships.

Feluccas? said Orphu.

Feluccas, those big barges they used to transport the stones for heads, larger sailing ships, smaller ships . . . they’re all sailing toward Olympus Mons, mixed in with the Achaean ships now.

Why? asked Orphu. Why are the zeks sailing toward Olympos?

Don’t ask me! shouted Mahnmut. I just work here . . . uh-oh.

Uh-oh?

The sky’s full of fiery streaks now, like meteors flaming down from space.

The gods resuming their bombardment? asked Orphu.

I don’t know.

Which direction?

What? said Mahnmut. If he had been designed with a jaw, it would be dropping now. The sky was a latticework of fiery streaks, with the circular portals showing Olympus Mons in a dozen places around Ilium and the sky filled with black barbed machines jetting back and forth at increasingly lower altitudes. Thousands more Achaeans and Trojans had rushed into the first portal after Achilles and Hector, while tens of thousands more Trojans and their allies were taking up defensive positions on the walls of Ilium and on the plain just outside the Scaean Gates. Gongs rang out. Drums beat. The air sizzled with energy and echoed with roars. Achaeans ran to defensive positions on their trenches, sunlight glinting on polished armor. A thousand Trojan archers on the Ilium ramparts went to full pull on their bows, arrows aimed skyward. A score more of black ships put out to sea from the Achaean camp. Mahnmut couldn’t pivot fast enough to take it all in.

Which direction are the meteor trails going? said Orphu. West to east, east to west, north to south?

What the hell does it matter which direction? snapped Mahnmut. No, wait, sorry. They’re coming from all parts of the sky. Making cross-hatches against the blue.

Any of them heading for Ilium? asked Orphu.

I don’t think so. Not directly. Wait, I can see something at the end of one of those trails now . . . I’m zooming in . . . good heavens, it’s a . . .

Spaceship? said Orphu.

Yes! breathed Mahnmut. Fins, hull, roaring engine . . . it looks like a cartoon of a spaceship, Orphu. It’s hovering on a column of yellow energy. The other meteors are also ships . . . some hovering . . . one coming down. Uh-oh.

Uh-oh again? said Orphu.

That hovering spaceship appears to be landing, said Mahnmut. So are four or five of the smaller black flying machines.

Yes? said Orphu. The Ionian sounded calm, perhaps even amused.

They’re landing on the ridge near you! Almost right on top of you, Orphu! Stay put, I’m coming! Mahnmut began running on all fours at top speed for the ridge where the yellow spacecraft exhaust was kicking dust and small rocks a hundred feet into the air. He couldn’t see Orphu through the dust as the various machines set down next to the amazon’s tomb. The barbed flying machines were extending a complicated tripod landing gear. The weapons on the landing hornet ships were swiveling, targeting Orphu. Mahnmut saw this just before he lost sight of everything as he galloped into the dust storm.

I’m not going anywhere, sent Orphu. But don’t sprain a servomechanism hurrying, old friend. I think I know who these guys are.