Helios 10/27/1962

Fiction: A godfire cleanses the face of a world in the midst of rebirth.

The excitement had reached fever pitch and was overwhelming the world. But it was not yet enough. Both men’s hands trembled as never before as two keys were clumsily set in their slots. They turned to their brother in arms to reassure themselves that the other was making the same move. Their eyes met and though the mouth gave up nothing, the time for talking had ended, the eyes sung of the forthcoming fire and glory.

The two titans of the current age had finally done it. It had begun. Nearly two decades of waiting but the time was now. The order had come through just two minutes ago and now the two men stood waiting at the edge of the age for final confirmation. Wishing, hoping, praying, that the affirmative would arrive and the two men could usher in the new age of man. A red light flashed through the darkness of the station every few heartbeats and both men counted each column of light that washed over them. Deep in the earth, it was their only measure of time.

“Delta-Delta-Echo-5-9, this is Victor-Alpha-2-3. Orders to fire are correct. You have permission to launch. Over”.

The radio crackled to life and the words of affirmation sent their minds reeling into a dizzy stupor. The day of dreams was finally here and it was intoxicating. Two keys turned and the clear case over the red button flicked back revealing their supreme prize. The comrades stared at one another, their hearts pounding like two lovers sharing the ultimate moment. Two warriors savouring life.

A dull thud, followed by a rippling explosion, shook even the control toom in the chthonic depths of earth and iron. Muffled sirens and screaming could still be heard from the far-distant surface but the two men were oblivious to all but the moment as they continued to stare at one another, neither able to make the first move. The great paradox of their lives on this planet had built them up to this point but now in this last vital moment they felt the immensity of their actions. They finally understood the weight apotheosis would carry. The birthing pains of the new man would not be light.

The two men turned to the counter behind them and one picked up a cigarette box. He opened it and presented it to the other. Inside were two cigarettes. One man picked one and covered it with his hand and the other did the same. After a brief pause, both men revealed their lot. One cigarette was normal but the other was marked with a cross in thick black ink. The fates were not with him.

He pulled his 1911 from the holster at his belt, hailed the victor, and departed from that place. A few moments later, a single gunshot. Then, a body slumping to the floor. The champion of mankind took a deep breath, reached out an arm, and pressed down on the button. The new age was not to be denied.

The bunker around him began to rumble as the future of man was sealed in fire, war, and glory.

Helios rose from his aeons long slumber and thrust upwards into the sky hailing the new dawn. The four horses of iron and fire led his steel chariot onwards across Ouranos, from the land of the Hesperides and the daughters of Atlas, towards his sunset in the East. As he soared through the sky he saw all beneath him and judged them as he went. His justice was soon to be delivered. He was to go the way of his father and his father before him. At Sol’s zenith he began his descent to his grandmother Gaia announcing the setting of the sun. Preparing to rise again tomorrow, he returned to the East to his home in the red palace on the River Moskva. He was the first of many gods to return to the worlds of Man and they would not leave this world as they found it. The new man must be liberated once more from the ruins of an old world. Only struggle will suffice.

---

Reen is the author of Stories of Winter. For more work like this, please subscribe to his publication and to Futurist Letters.