The Gods Are Back In Town

Chapter 1

Of all the troubles that could be running through Arturo's mind at a time like this, cufflinks should be right at the bottom.

Yet, there was the dilemma. Should he put on the new ones? Or the minimal pair he was quite fond of? The man babbling on the phone was not letting him think.

The company's board was sitting on hot coals since his decision to move. It was like they didn't trust him anymore. What's worse, those comfy billionaire idiots were quick to bring the domestics at public, first chance they got.

He was planning to do something about that.

It was too... Democratic.

In time. Now he needed to finish dressing up.

His wife came to the rescue. Lithe and cunning, yet feminine and caring, she walked next to him and shook off some dust from his impeccable Armani suit.

The board representative was droning on in his ear.

She kissed his lower lip, that was as high she could reach without any of them leaning closer, and presented a pair of cufflinks in her palm. He looked down.

His lucky pair.

Yeah, that would do nicely.

He finished dressing up, pointed at the phone, grimaced and made an impression of a fat man whining. That made his wife giggle and cover her mouth.

"I hoped you would be right beside me today," he said.

His wife waved her hand like an aristocrat and said, "I prefer to take the jet. See you there darling."

He touched her chin and walked out of the Manhattan penthouse into the elevator.

His wife turned around and gave a deadly stare to the two VIP call girls still sleeping on his bed.

Arturo's assistant came right up to him and started blurting out facts and papers to sign. He walked the corridor with a steady pace, talking on the phone, signing contracts and nodding.

The corridor ended and a big room filled with scientists and gear, both man and machine already revved up and ready for the big show.

Upon his entrance the room exploded into action, people shouting readouts and numbers to one another. The board member on the phone started yelling to be heard over the noise.

The Manhattan sky was grey.

Thick clouds rolled around the city. The streets were wet and the citizens were seeking shelter. Thunder followed a flash close by, hitting the first lightning rod it could find.

The skyscraper with the logo on it, of Eagler Gas and Oil, was humming with electricity. Its top floors were brightly lit creating a halo in the misty air. Arturo's father had erected this skyscraper, a landmark of his business acumen and genius.

Now it was time for the son to make his move.

The chief scientist ran up to Arturo and told him, "We are ready sir."

Arturo nodded, walked up to the platform and stood tall in the middle. The device hummed and the scientists scurried in their workstations.

Arturo said, "Be with you in a bit," on his phone and passed it on his assistant.

The rings started spinning around him. He had thought of a very CEO-worthy pose for him, hands on his hips, shoulders slightly askew, chin up and eyes high, but at that moment he decided that it was best to remain still and to keep his limbs as far away as possible from the spinning metal.

The skyscraper was struck by a lightning bolt.

And again.

And again.

His vision blurred for a second and there it was again. Scientists scurrying about, shouting numbers and fancy terms. He could hear the device revving down, the metal rings spinning slower and slower. For a minute there, he thought it was a failure. Then he looked again, the people in the room. They were similar, but slightly different. The room was different too.

Still high, still on top of a skyscraper.

But it was bright.

Very bright. A clear midday. His eyes adjusted, the metal rings stopped spinning and a young man extended his arm and gave him a phone.

He took it, placed it on his ear and the board member's voice said, "Are you there?"

"Yes. I'm in Athens. Time for the press conference. We'll go over the rest of the issues at the board meeting tomorrow," Arturo said and hung up.

The young man next to him was white but eastern looking. "I'll be taking over your assistant's duties for as long as you're in Greece, Mr. Arturo. You can call me Yorgo," he said, with proper English but a funny accent.

Arturo straightened his suit but there was no need really. Merely the idea of having travelled 7913 kilometres makes you feel weary in the mind. "Wait, isn't your name George?"

"Yes, but around here, they call me Yorgo. It's how I was baptised."

"Yo-rgo it is then. Is the press here?"

"Yes sir, they are waiting for you below," said Yorgo and showed his boss the way.

The skyscraper was new. The carpet was new. The room full of scientists cooled down a bit, trying not to stare at him for too long. They were comparing readings with the matching roomful in Manhattan and whispering amongst themselves about the lightning that shook the place. Apparently their ears were still ringing.

The elevator gave them a spectacular view of Athens. Yorgo held a tablet with some obviously important things that Arturo needed to take care of, but did not harass him about it. He just stood next to the Man with casual indifference, taking in the view.

The skyline was pathetic. Compared to Manhattan, it was more like a flat grey-green blob and some low mountains surrounding the city. Despite the bright sunlight, he could see easily without looking for sunglasses. The elevator's glass must have been tinted or something. And judging by the amount of high technology they like to put into his stuff these days, it was probably smart too.

He leaned forward and looked down on the peasants. The sole skyscraper, his skyscraper, was giving the feeling of being on a plane looking down on the city. There was nothing remotely similar to be found. He saw some familiar ruins to the left. A low hill, and a rectangular building of columns.

The Parthenon.

So small.

The elevator dinged and they walked into the press room.

Yorgo said, "Everything is ready when you are sir," and pointed towards the curtains. "The headline the PR department cooked up is, 'The CEO Who Rides The Lightning.'"

Arturo peeked in.

Some cameras were set up and waiting, a few dozen reporters were sitting and tapping away on their pads.

"Yorgo?"

"Yes sir?"

"When are the rest of the TV cameras coming?"

Yorgo peeked through the curtain and looked him in the eye. "That's all of them sir. Six TV networks, all of the nationwide channels in Greece."

Arturo smiled and rubbed his lucky cufflink.

"Oh, this is gonna be so easy..." he murmured, and presented himself into the erupting press.

And this is how, unceremoniously, the man who thought himself as god stepped foot into Athens.