The Zeus Project

THE ZEUS PROJECT

John Cadden

Smashwords Edition

Copyright 2013 John Cadden

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Table of Contents

Twelve Deities of Olympus

Prologue

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Postscript

OF GODS AND GODDESSES

Twelve Deities of Olympus

ZEUS - King of the Heavens, sky god

APOLLO - sun god

POSEIDON - god of the seas

HERMES - divine messenger, god of thieves and liars

ARES - god of war

HEPHAESTOS - god of the forge

HERA - Queen of the heavens, goddess of marriage

DEMETER - goddess of fertility

APHRODITE - goddess of love and beauty

ATHENE - goddess of crafts and war

ARTEMIS - goddess of the hunt

HESTIA - goddess of home and hearth

ZEUS - The Shining One - in relative terms:

wife - HERA

brothers - POSEIDON, HADES (Lord of the Underworld)

sisters - HERA, DEMETER, HESTIA

(main) lovers and = children

HERA = ARES, HEBE (the divine cupbearer), EILYTHIA (goddess of chidbirth)

LETO (a divine cousin) = APOLLO, ARTEMIS

MAIA (another cousin) = HERMES

DEMETER = PERSEPHONE (Queen of the Underworld, wife of HADES)

Semele, a mortal = DIONYSUS (god of ecstasy)

Alcmene, another mortal = HERAKLES (mortal granted immortality on marrying HEBE)

THEMIS, a divine aunt = The HORAE (Hours) and the MOERAE (Fates)

MNEMOSYNE, another aunt = The MUSES

EURONYME, an Oceanid = The GRACES

Leda, a mortal = Helen (of Troy), The DIOSCURI

ZEUS produced a child on his own - ATHENE - without a female.

HERA responded by producing HEPHAESTOS without any male 'input'.

The OLYMPIANS were the original family business. All but two (APHRODITE and HEPHAESTOS) are direct relatives of ZEUS.

In terms of inter-relationships, 'tangled' hardly does justice to the branches of the family tree of ZEUS. Take PERSEPHONE, for instance: she is, at one and the same time, the daughter, niece and sister-in-law of ZEUS.

The other word that hardly does justice to this family is dysfunctional.

Prologue

In the beginning was Kaos.

Kaos was primordially vast and dark, with little to say for itself. It had exceptionally low aspirations - and an even lower intelligence. For Kaos spent all its time wreaking perpetual havoc and mayhem. On itself - as it was the only thing around at the time. (Bad spelling was not the only indication that Kaos was intellectually challenged.) Yet the funny thing about Kaos - and given the constant, howling maelstrom there were not that many laughs to be had at the time - was that this maniacally perplexed creature also contained its exact opposite. For if Kaos was anything, it was energy - raw, unimaginably powerful energy. And the purest particle of that energy - the single spark at its very core - one day (or night, it was hard to know which in the time of Kaos) separated and evolved into something else. Something very different. For this spark of purest energy - so pure it could never be seen, defined, or digested - eventually became the Kosmos.[1]

In its youth, the Kosmos kept well clear of Kaos and its self-absorbed tumults. Little 'Sparky' watched and waited. It knew its destiny: one day (or night), it would have to defeat Kaos. No matter how impossible the task seemed, the 'father' had to be overthrown for the New Order to commence.

At some point, the Kosmos dramatically made its move. It created Gaia - a numinous essence which would become the Earth Mother.[2] (It is not known exactly how the Kosmos did this, but when you are 'pure' energy and the essence of all life as we know it you don't really have to explain yourself to anyone.) Kaos suddenly realised something was afoot[3]. He countered this opening gambit by creating Tartarus and Erebus - two rather unsavoury henchmen. Sparky responded with an even more daring move - and introduced Eros into the proceedings. Eros then 'mated' with Gaia - which instantly check-mated Kaos. For, in that moment, Creation was born. And with Creation came order, structure and meaning - and Kaos was no more.[4]

Having set the whole Creation show in motion, the Kosmos retired into the wings, never to be seen again, content merely to observe and occasionally prompt.[5] Although the confusion between 'abstract' and 'physical' still remained, 'deep-breasted' Gaia began to introduce a bit more substance into things. Touched by Eros - 'the love that softens hearts' - Gaia's fertility was activated and produced the Earth and then a son - Ouranos - the sky. For want of other suitors, Gaia took Ouranos as her husband.[6] Their first offspring were the mountains, followed by the seas and then the Cyclops - three giants, each with a huge eye in the middle of the forehead - and the Hecatoncheires - again triplets and giants, each with fifty heads and a hundred arms and hands (something of a boon when it came to doing several things at once, but a multiple headache when it came to doing the cuticles).

Ouranos had no problem with the mountains and seas, but found his other children a galling embarrassment on family outings. He treated them cruelly - and eventually banished them to Tartarus.[7] Gaia never forgave Ouranos this treatment of her not-so-little darlings and when her later children - the Titans - were born, she persuaded one of them - Cronus - to rebel against his father. Conflict between a father and son is now a long-established phenomenon. It usually takes the form of argument, criticism, disapproval, sarcasm and competitive rivalry. Taking a sickle and lopping off the father's genitalia - as Cronus did to Ouranos - is a somewhat extreme variant.[8]

Cronus - now top Titan and ruler of the universe - mated with his sister, Rhea, to produce Hestia, Demeter, Hera, Poseidon, Hades and - finally - Zeus. Knowing that the Cosmos had overthrown its progenitor, Kaos, and that he himself had supplanted Ouranos, Cronus was not about to risk a similar fate at the hands of his own children. So he ate them. All of them.[9]

Except Zeus. Rhea took exception to this criticism of her cooking and - like her mother before her - took action against a husband via a son. She tricked Cronus into believing a boulder wrapped in a blanket was Zeus, which Cronus then duly swallowed. (Cronus was not known for his intelligence. Or sharp eyesight. Not to mention any refinement of the taste-buds.) The infant Zeus was then spirited away to the isle of Crete - in the care of Amalthea and the Curetes - from whence he later returned, fully-grown, to defeat Cronus and release his brothers and sisters from their father's stomach. (Fortunately for the siblings, Cronus never chewed his food properly and had very slow digestive tracts.)

Led by Zeus, the children of Rhea defeated the rest of the Titans and, from the lofty peaks of Olympus, assumed control of the universe. On the drawing of lots, Zeus became King of the Heavens and presiding deity, Poseidon was allocated the seas and Hades became Lord of the Underworld. (Poseidon was convinced this lottery was 'fixed'. Whenever he raised this accusation, the unseen yet omnipresent Cosmos would inspect a fingernail, start whistling and pretend it hadn't heard.)

Zeus took his sister, Hera, as wife - and proceeded to father an uncountable number of children (of which three were actually with his wife). As well as divine promiscuity, Zeus also introduced the concept of divine justice. As a sky god, he had responsibility for the weather. To help him keep track of his lovers, children, adjudications, appeals, storms and sunny intervals, Zeus had two permanent companions: Thought and Memory. Both were ravens and both were constantly perched on a divine shoulder.

Unlike his grandfather - Ouranos - and his father - Cronus - Zeus never mistreated any of his children. However, there were many occasions when he would bite off heads in a figurative, if not literal, emulation of his ancestors......

Chapter 1

Anagramatically apposite.

What?

Simple metathesis. The name. A transposable truth.

"Look, if you've something to say, say it - and stop being such a smart arse".

Exactly.

What?

" Whichever way you look at it - character, temperament and anagram - Ares is a complete arse".

Zeus was weary. Weary of one son - Ares - and his stupidity and weary of another son - Hermes - and his verbosity.

"I demand justice", rasped Hephaestos.

Zeus was also weary of his wife's son's whining. But mostly, he was just weary. He wanted to be somewhere else. Away from Olympus, away from the sky, away from the Earth. Away from his hectoring wife and his bickering brood. Away from the tedious affairs of griping gods and mediocre mortals. Somewhere else. Anywhere. But there was no somewhere else.

This is somewhat excessive, Hephaestos, said Hermes. "I mean, no-one has less sympathy or regard for that chthonic clod than I do. He is an embarrassment to us all. And I can see how this might be particularly galling for you personally....."

Hephaestos glared. In trying to placate his half-half-brother, Hermes had succeeded only in further inflammation.

I caught him screwing my wife, growled Hephaestos, as if his upper and lower teeth had been welded together at his forge.

Indeed you did, said Hermes, with a badly suppressed smile of amusement. "In a net, in the act. No coitus was ever so spectacularly interruptus. I realise that, as a craftsman, you have to be somewhat pragmatic in your thinking, but it's not necessary, Hephaestos, to be quite so literal in the catching of miscreants".

The mind of Zeus drifted, half-listening to Memory at his left ear. The raven was reminding him of simpler days in the Cretan cave, with the Curetes. Blissful days of raw adventure and excitement with those wild companions of his youth. Days when his spirit had pulsed on the thrill of the chase, the joy of the game, the trials of speed, strength and courage. Days of light and laughter. On his right shoulder, the other raven, Thought, intervened and asked how Zeus now felt about killing the Curetes, years later, in his rage at the death of Io. Zeus ignored Thought and continued listening to Memory

"And what if it had been your wife?"

There are several issues here, replied Hermes, with slow deliberation. Hermes loved a good argument. He was even quite partial to a bad one. "Firstly, it is the duty of divinity - the only duty, in fact - to create. One of the most powerful - and obvious - acts of creation is the act of procreation - or 'screwing', in your artisan's argot. The identity of a divinity's passional participant is largely irrelevant - wholly subsidiary to the act itself".

So, if you caught Ares banging Calisto, that would be okay?

"Empty hypothesis. It could never happen. You see, the act of love, for a true divinity, is an act that creates. Now, I do not question your divinity - however dubious the nature of your birth - but this is an area where your lack of......productivity......is significant. The creative sparks from your labour at the smithy produce impressive results - but the creative sparks from your testacles have never actually put a female in labour. I satisfy and fill my paramours - which is why they do not need to look elsewhere".

"Oh, you fill them all right, Featherfeet. And look at what comes out. Your son doesn't know if he's a goat or a god - and the other one, with its tits and balls, doesn't know if it's your son or your daughter".

Hermes smiled. No-one on Olympus had ever seen him lose his temper. Some wondered if he had a temper to lose. (Cold. All mind and mouth. Only lives from the neck up, was the psycho-analytic conclusion Ares had reached concerning his semi-sibling.)

"Well, Hephaestos, neither of my children were cast out by their own mother for being ugly and deformed, as you were. I produce children, you merely scare them. Even when trading insults, Hermes was affable and measured. Hearing you criticise the looks of others recalls that mortal expression - the one that advises inhabitants of vitreous dwellings what not to throw".

Zeus was now wholly listening to Memory, who was reprising the three-hundred year wedding-night with Hera on Samos. What joy, what passion, what fulfilment. Where did all that go? wondered Thought, still eavesdropping.

"Besides, this is Aphrodite we are talking about, continued Hermes. And, lovely as she is, the concept of fidelity is not a frequent visitor to her mind or heart. It's a complete stranger to her body....."

"She is my wife".

Hermes shook his head sadly. "You have this mechanic's unseemly obsession with 'property'. Yes, she is your wife. After a fashion. But you cannot own what is not naturally yours. She rejected you. You acquired her by coercion and blackmail. What did you expect?"

She rejected you as well. But you still had to have her - and your methods were no better than mine.

But my little game with the sandal had infinitely more finesse and style than chaining Hera to her throne and refusing to release her until you got what you wanted.

This is all bollocks. You lot have never accepted me. But my birthright is just as high as yours. Straight from the top. Hephaestos turned his grizzled head back to Zeus. So - what are you going to do?

Memory fell silent on the left shoulder of Zeus. On the right, Thought woke up from a light snooze.

Do? I'll tell you what I'm going to do, said the King of the Heavens, rising from his throne and glaring at the two gods before him - though in truth, even his anger now seemed a little weary. "I'm going to leave you to your whingeing - and you to your pontificating. Then I'm going to see Herself - where I'll probably get another earful about Io. Then I'm going to sort out tomorrow's weather, before taking myself off to the highest cloud I can find - where I'll lie down and wonder why I bother...."

Because that's Who You Are and that's What You Do, murmured Thought.

.

Aphrodite reclined on the couch and waited, even more languid in her boredom than usual. She neither coveted nor envied Hera's authority, but she did resent its occasional application to herself. This would doubtless be one such occasion. Aphrodite enjoyed being the subject of worship, adoration and gossip, but being the subject of Hera could be quite a tedious business.

The Queen of the Heavens entered the chamber with her customary sense of authority and purpose. So different now, thought Aphrodite. What had happened to that laughing child with the wild eyes? To the young goddess who had flirted, flounced and flaunted her beauty? And to the new bride whose passion had been so enflamed by the muscular beauty of her husband - and who had accompanied and encouraged Zeus through all his early trials and triumphs - sharing all the glorious, romantic excitement of their early marriage? So different now - all that youthful radiance subsumed in stern austerity.

Hera was dressed in her formal white robe. As she took her seat at the throne, her peacock ambled casually to her side. She was still beautiful, thought Aphrodite - the proud brow, the refined, haughty features, the long, elegant neck - all framed by golden-white curls. And those eyes - a compelling, steely grey - that always seemed to look through whatever stood before them. Yet the eyes had lost their lustre. All that seriousness and responsibility, all those arguments with her husband. Anger and anxiety were lethal for the looks.

You've got your hair shorter, observed Aphrodite. Makes you look older.....[10]

The reason I have summoned you here was not to discuss hairstyles, began Hera, as clipped and business-like as usual.

And that reason is....?

Perhaps not what you might think.

Aphrodite arched a quizzical eyebrow.

Well, Hera continued, "not only that reason. Obviously, as the goddess of marriage, I have to take action on this infidelity of yours.....this latest infidelity, I should perhaps add....". Hera paused, gathering her thoughts. Aphrodite had once been an interesting and challenging rival. But that had been long ago, in times which now seemed so trivial and callow. These days, Hera usually had little interest in the goddess before her. Of course, her beauty could not be denied - the ravishing cascade of golden locks, the glinting promise of those oval, green eyes, the delicacy of line behind every feature, the lambent skin, the full, entrancing curves of her body. For all this, she had never developed from the irredeemably vain vamp she had always been - and was now little more, in Hera's eyes, than a stylish slut. But this was no longer the usual situation between them.

You know, as the goddess of marriage and the goddess of love, we really should try to get on a little better. Otherwise, what hope is there?

For marriage, said Aphrodite, inspecting a cuticle, probably very little.

In this instance, I'm probably not as angry as you might expect. Or, perhaps, as I should be.

Again, the eyebrow opposite became a question-mark.

My son is hardly the most popular character on Olympus. But you seem quite drawn to him.

Probably my inability to resist any passing penis, said Aphrodite, repeating one of Hera's old insults with a disdainful smile. "Ares pleases me. His passion can be quite brutal and uncouth, but it is always passion. He is strong, vigorous, handsome and knows what he wants. Sometimes I like things that simple".

Hera gave a long, probing look before resuming.

Tell me, the Queen continued, do you not tire of these gods?

The question surprised Aphrodite, though her expression hid behind cat-like neutrality.

Their arrogance, their stupidity, their posturing? Hera's tone had become more intense. "Imagine - a life not controlled by their whims, their childish wants, their unreliability. Imagine controlling your own destiny".

Some chance, thought Aphrodite, with you around. It was a thought she kept to herself.

Hera, what are you talking about?

"I'm talking about how things could be. How they should be".

For whom?

For the whole Cosmos. Look at this place - a shambles. No order, no vision, no purpose. Olympus is being destroyed by the rampant selfishness of the male ego. The world of mortals is now equally contaminated by the male lust for power and pleasure. The Oceans are at the mercy of a neglectful bully. And who knows what goes on in the Underworld.....

Aphrodite wondered what exactly had gone on between Zeus and Io to have engendered all this. There could, of course, be no other reason. Everything Hera did and thought and felt was a direct response to whatever Zeus was up to at any given time. Why should Io prove such a provocative final straw when Hera had already endured, after her own fashion, several wheatfields of infidelity in the past? Okay, so Io had been a priestess of Hera. A double betrayal, no doubt - but she was still only a mere mortal.

Once again, Aphrodite's words took a different tack from her thoughts.

"Poseidon and Hades are your brothers...."

"If I can hate Hephaestos - my son - I'm quite entitled to hate those two. Anyway, I don't hate Hades, but I'd never trust him. Look at the mortals. There's the true reflection of the state of things. Men dominate - and all is greed, conflict and deceit. I tell you, I can hardly bring myself to attend my own festival at Argos any more. We came from Chaos - now the gods have re-created it anew".

Aphrodite had seen Hera in many moods - but never one like this. She had seen her in all her vindictive fury, but she had never seen such a fire in those cold eyes.

"Hera, what are you saying?"

There isn't one iota of wisdom in any of them, Hera continued, now ominously more restrained. "Things must change. We need new guiding qualities, a new understanding. The understanding of the great Gaia - the Mother of all things. And remember, you, I and Demeter are the only mothers on Olympus...."

Aphrodite was rarely uncertain about anything in her life. The gaze she now returned to Hera was meant to be inscrutably enigmatic. Instead, it conveyed only confusion and concern.

.

Zeus was as good as his word - or at least as good as his word as he usually was. He did leave Hermes and Hephaestos. He did attend to the weather and he did find his cloud. He did not return, in between, to resume his discussion with Hera. Memory reminded him that simply