"The God Wars" - Chapter Twenty-six: Harsh Interrogations

The God Wars

Chapter Twenty-six:

Harsh Interrogations

By Dwayne MacInnes

Zeus could see that Hermes was very pleased with himself. The god of thieves not only returned with information, but with one of the men responsible for the creation of the machines the Otherworlders loved. Hephaestus was interrogating him now.

"So these iron chariots are called tanks?" Zeus asked.

"Yes," Hermes replied, "and their metal birds they call aircraft, or airplanes, or just planes for short."

"That is all well and good," Ares replied hotly. "But how does this help us out except to put proper names to the vehicles destroying us?"

"Calm, Ares," Hermes said. "These vehicles have limitations."

Zeus, Ares, Aphrodite and Hades all leaned closer to Hermes. Apollo and Hephaestus were busy with the prisoner. Just in case Hephaestus became too zealous, Apollo was on hand to heal any mortal wound Reno received.

"Ha!" laughed Hermes. "I thought that would gain your attention."

"Don't toy with us!" exclaimed Ares. "What are these limitations?"

"It appears that you, oh king are the key," Hermes replied.

"Enough with your games, Hermes," Zeus said with a thunderous voice.

"It has to do with the weather," Hermes smiled. "Their planes cannot operate in bad storms and deep mud will mire down their tanks."

"That is good, brother," Hades replied excitedly. "You can summon a storm the likes never seen and use it to our advantage."

"How will that help out," growled Ares. "Any troops I put in the field will also be adversely affected by such a storm."

"That is true," Hermes admitted. "However, what if we only hoped to keep those machines where they are?"

Zeus leaned even closer and glared at Hermes with a cunning look. "What do you propose?"

"We have attacked Zakrostas twice now with disastrous results," Hermes lectured. "So, if we can't get Zakrostas why not attack the next best target."

"What target would that be?" Hades asked.

"How about a target that does not benefit from all the gifts the Otherworlders brought," Hermes smiled. "What about attacking the city of Atlantis itself?"

Ares roared with laughter, "That will be a surprise! Those Otherworlders would be stuck in Zakrostas while we raze Atlantis. The Atlanteans would see that the Otherworlders cannot protect everyone at once and would begin to turn on them."

"Even if they did come out to attack," Zeus added, "their forces would be thinned out allowing us the choice of when and where to give battle."

The gods began to laugh.

"One question," Aphrodite interrupted the gods who had at this point forgotten that she was in the room. "Why did you not abduct their leader?"

The gods abruptly stopped laughing and stared at Hermes for an answer.

"My plans were not in readiness when the Otherworlders ejected me from Zakrostas," Hermes explained. "I did not even have a chance to meet their famed General Crist. However, I think I did quite well in nabbing the next best thing."

Reno never felt such agony in his life. Not even the electrical jolt he received from the machine compared to the torture the capable hands of Hephaestus administered. The god of the anvil knew his business with hot iron and steely blade.

Twice Reno felt his soul begin to slip away as inky darkness started to envelop him. However, each time the healing touch of Apollo revived him. Unlike Hephaestus, the god of poetry looked with pity upon the tortured man.

"Tell me how you construct your vehicle called tanks!" Hephaestus roared.

"That is not my field of expertise," Reno began to protest before a hot brand again seared itself into Reno's exposed chest. The black smoke curled up and found its way into the nostrils of Reno who struggled briefly between screaming in agony and retching from the overwhelming stench of the sickly sweet smell of his own scorched flesh. The scientist's cries died as he lost consciousness again.

"Don't you think you have learned all you are going to learn?" Apollo asked Hephaestus.

"No, I think I can still persuade him to remember a few more things," Hephaestus grinned evilly.

Apollo again placed his hand upon the still smoldering wound on Reno's chest. Under his touch, the charred flesh disappeared replaced by whole and healthy skin. Reno shortly revived. The scientist could still remember the agony he felt just a moment ago. He did not have to look to see that Apollo had removed all traces of the hot brand's handiwork.

"I think it is time for the blade again," Hephaestus said to Reno when his eyes focused on the blacksmith. The god had several mean looking blades laid out on an anvil next to the scientist. Reno begged again for the gods to spare him when he witnessed the particular vile blade that Hephaestus enjoyed using to flay away the skin of his victims.

"You better start remembering some things," Hephaestus taunted. "Or you may find yourself skinned like a rabbit.

Apollo's stomach for the cruel treatment was full. He only tentatively agreed to the war out of survival. He also refused to believe that the gods should show respect to the mortals. However, after witnessing the endless torturing of a poor soul for what had to be days on end without stop was sickening him. Apollo was beginning to believe that maybe the mortals would be better off without the gods.

Reno cried out in pain as the god of the anvil sliced a huge swath of skin above his stomach. The god tossed it aside where a growing mound of rotting flesh was accumulating. The open wound with the muscle laid bare burned in the open air. Hephaestus laughed in glee as Reno cried again in agony. Reno's blood flowed over the open wound painting his lower body red.

Hephaestus grabbed a goatskin flask at his waist and raised it to his lips. Before he began to take a long pull at the liquid inside, he smiled down at Reno.

"This is such thirsty work, is it not?" the god taunted before he began to drink lustfully from the bottle. Before he swallowed the last of the fluid in his mouth, he spat it over Reno's exposed stomach. A sensation of fire now competed with pain as the alcohol burned the exposed nerve endings.

Apollo turned his eyes away. He could not stand to watch this endless and needless display any further.