Mercury Rises (22 page)

Mercury sighed. He wasn't getting anywhere with this fellow. "All right," he said, getting to his feet. "I think I have everything I need..."

"Hang on," Noah said, standing to face him. Suddenly he was filled with vigor and determination. He was a good five inches shorter than Mercury, but he had a sort of ineffable presence that made Mercury feel like he was being looked down on. "Everything
you
need?" Noah growled. "What about what
I
need? How about a pat on the back? A thank-you card?
Something
?"

Mercury put out his hand. "Noah, on behalf of the angels in Heaven, I hereby thank you for a job well done."

Noah folded his arms across his chest and spat.

"See here," said Mercury. "It's not your place to question the ways of Heaven."

Noah regarded him sternly, and then a smile began to creep across his face. He tossed his head back and laughed.

"What's so funny?" Mercury asked.

"What's so funny," said Noah, chuckling, "is you. I have to hand it to you, Mercury, you have succeeded in cheering me up. I demand answers, and God sends me an angel who is even more in the dark than I am. As confused as I am about my place on Earth, I now at least have the consolation of
not being you
."

"Oh yeah?" replied Mercury indignantly. "Well, for your information, God didn't send me at all. I came here totally of my own volition."

Noah chuckled again. "Sure you did, Mercury. But hey, don't let me keep you. I'm sure you've got lots of important things to do---of your own volition, of course."

Mercury started to reply, but his thoughts wandered to Tiamat. She would be expecting him back soon. He was also late for his weekly report to Uzziel. And he was still no closer to finding out the cause of the flood.

"We'll have to continue this discussion later," said Mercury flatly. Turning to exit the tent, his eyes were greeted by a brilliant display of colors.

"Wow, look at that!" Noah exclaimed.

"It's just a rainbow," Mercury stated. "Water vapor in the sky refracting different wavelengths of light at different angles."

Noah smiled and shook his head. "You know, for an angel, you're not very bright," he said. Then he turned to Shem and Japheth, who stood by expectantly. "Gather everyone around," Noah said. "I've got an announcement to make."

"Oh no," said Japheth. "We're not building another boat, are we?"

"Goodness, no," said Noah. "We're done building boats. Today we start rebuilding civilization. Today is a good day!"

Mercury shook his head and took off toward Babylon. It turned out that Noah was nuts after all.

TWENTY-SIX

Jacob was so exhausted from nearly being blown up and buried hundreds of feet under Anaheim that, although he didn't entirely trust Eddie, he was relieved when Cody invited him into Katie Midford's house for a drink. The three of them sat in Katie's living room, sipping Scotch.

"I'm Cody Lang, by the way," said Cody, holding out her hand. "Actress slash private investigator."

Jacob shook her hand. "I'm Jacob Slater. I'm a blast..." He trailed off, not sure how much he should say.

"I'll be the judge of that," said Cody. "So are you a friend of Eddie's?"

"Um, not exactly," said Jacob.

Eddie interjected, excitedly recounting how he had rescued Jacob from the strip mall gravesite.

Cody glared at Eddie. "You...went to my father's grave? What gives you the right?"

"Did you hear what I said?" Eddie asked, incredulously. "I found him inside of a metal box that just happened to shoot twenty feet into the air from underneath the gazebo marking your father's grave,
while I was standing there
. Between you and me, I've never seen the point of dwelling on fate or destiny, but obviously I was
meant to be there
when this happened. Clearly Jacob here is the key to the mystery of the seventh Charlie Nyx book!"

Cody snorted and shook her head.

Jacob cleared his throat. "Um, the what?" he asked.

"The seventh book! The final book in the Charlie Nyx series!" exclaimed Eddie. "I told you everything I know about the implosion and the Lucifer and the Antichrist, so now you can tell me about book seven!"

Jacob shrugged helplessly. "I'm sorry, I don't know what you're talking about. Who is Charlie Nyx?"

Eddie laughed. "Who is Charlie Nyx! Seriously, it's OK. You can tell me. I was
meant to know
."

"Seriously," said Jacob. "I don't know what you're talking about. I've never heard of Charlie Nyx. You say he wrote a book?"

Now Cody began to laugh---a harsh, bitter laugh. "Listen, you knucklehead," she said, holding out her drink and pointing her index finger at Eddie. "He doesn't know anything. He's just some guy. You were apparently destined to meet the one person on the planet who hasn't heard of Charlie Nyx. Congratulations. You're never going to find that book, OK? Neither am I. We're wasting our time. Now I'm going to finish my drink and then see if I can still get a walk-on part in that shitty Michael Bay movie they're filming downtown."

Jacob forced a smile. "Sorry," he said sheepishly.

Eddie sighed. Was it true? Was his quest doomed to fail? "But if I can't deliver the manuscript," he said, "my career is over. I'll have nothing to do but sit and wait for the Apocalypse. Which probably won't be that long, but still."

Cody threw back the rest of her drink and stood up. "I've got an idea, Shakespeare," she snapped. "How about if you actually
write
something, rather than trying to make your fortune off someone else's work? I hear that a lot of writers break into the profession by
writing
." She grabbed her bag and walked to the door. "Nice to meet you, Jacob. I don't recommend hanging out with this loser for very long. You'll end up just like him."

She reached for the door handle, but before her hand touched it, the door swung open on its own. Standing on the other side were two men. The man on the left was tall, muscular, and good-looking; the one on the right was smaller and had a shifty look about him.

"Who the hell are you?" demanded Cody, her right hand hovering over the opening of her bag.

"Easy, chickie," said the smaller man. "We don't intend you any harm. We're here for your guest." He waved a gun in Cody's direction and she stepped slowly back into the house.

"You," pronounced Eddie coldly as his eyes met those of the tall man.

"Hey, Eddie," said the man. "Finally made it out of Cork, eh? Congratulations."

"No thanks to you," Eddie said.

"You know these guys?" Cody asked.

"I know the linebacker," said Eddie. "Name's Gamaliel. He used to be one of Tiamat's minions. I can only assume his sidekick is Izbazel. Nice to see you boys working together again. Like Sonny and Ricardo."

Cody gave Eddie a puzzled look. "I think you mean Sonny and Cher," said Cody.

"The point is..." began Izbazel.

"No, he means Lucy and Ricky Ricardo," replied Gamaliel. "You know, from
I Love Lucy
."

"Lucy and Desi," corrected Jacob. "Ricky was the name of the kid. The couple was Lucille Ball and Desi Arnaz."

Cody shook her head. "Lucy was her character's name, too. They named the kid after his dad on the show, Ricky Ricardo, played by Desi Arnaz. The name of the couple on the show was Lucy and Ricky."

"Anyway, the point is..." Izbazel said again.

"I wasn't talking about
I Love Lucy
," snapped Eddie. "I was talking about
Miami Vice
. You know, Sonny Crocket and Ricardo Tubbs."

"Ricardo Tubbs?" Gamaliel asked incredulously. "Who even remembers something like that? Not one in fifty people would get that reference."

"He's right," Cody said. "You can't say 'Sonny and Ricardo.' That's like saying 'Batman and Jeff.'"

"Fine," exclaimed Eddie. "Whatever. They're a pair, OK?"

"THE. POINT. IS!" shrieked Izbazel. The room fell silent and all eyes turned toward him. For a moment, he forgot himself what the point was. "Oh!" he eventually said, trying to retain his hold on the group. "The point is this: we're taking Slater."

"Right," said Gamaliel, nodding.

"Me?" asked Jacob. "What do you want with me? I don't even know what any of you are talking about! I never even heard of Charlie Knox!"

"Eddie, do your chocolate bullet thing," Cody said.

"Oh yes," said Izbazel, mockingly. "Please. Do your chocolate bullet thing."

Eddie held up his hands. "I can't," he said. "They aren't letting me get a handle on the energy channels. I can't overpower a pair of cherubim, even if it is Scarecrow and Mrs. Robinson here."

"Fine," Cody spat. "God forbid you pull your own weight for once." She had used the fraction of a second that attention was focused on Eddie to slip her hand into her bag, and before anyone knew what was happening, she had fired four shots, tearing holes in the bottom of the bag. Izbazel and Gamaliel staggered backward. She had hit each of them twice in the gut.

"Eddie!" she shouted. "Chocolate bullets!"

But Eddie, having sensed the break in the pair's hold on the energy channels, had already seized his opportunity. Izbazel squeezed the trigger again and again, but nothing happened. "Damn you, Eddie!" Izbazel screamed.

"Run!" Eddie yelled. "I'll hold them!"

Jacob got up from the couch and ran past Cody into the kitchen. She fired four more shots into the would-be abductors and then followed on his heels. Eddie waved his hand and the couch leaped from the ground and flew toward Izbazel and Gamaliel, pinning them against the wall.

Eddie followed up the couch with an easy chair, three lamps, and a bookcase. He manipulated the mysterious energy streams to hurl every bit of furniture he could find at them. But within seconds, he could feel himself losing his grip on the stream. The pile of furniture exploded into ten thousand pieces, revealing two very pissed-off cherubim.

"You're out of your league, Eddie," Izbazel said. He gave the barrel of his gun a kiss and then leveled it Eddie. "Shoulda stayed in Cork." He fired over and over, emptying the clip into Eddie. Eddie stumbled backwards and crumpled to the floor, unmoving. "After Slater!" Izbazel barked.

"I'm on it," Gamaliel said, sprinting after Jacob and Cody. He caught up to them in Katie's garage. They had gotten into Katie's Porsche 911 and Cody was gunning the engine. The garage door was very slowly sliding toward the ceiling, but when she saw Gamaliel, she threw the car into gear. It squealed backward, the bottom of the garage door catching the convertible canopy and tearing it clear off. "Duck!" Cody yelled, too late to do any good. The garage door clipped the top of Jacob's head and he fell forward, smacking his forehead on the dash. After that, he didn't move.

The car peeled into the street and Cody slammed on the brakes, throwing it into first gear. She punched the accelerator and the car engine roared but didn't move. She punched it again. The car howled, but still refused to budge.

"Whoops," said Gamaliel, striding toward the car. "Looks like a drive train problem. The good news is that it's probably covered by your warranty. The bad news is that this isn't."

Flames shot from the engine compartment.

"Uh-oh," said Gamaliel. "Engine fire. I'd run if I were you."

Cody cursed and got out of the car. "Sorry, Jacob. Nothing I can do." She ran.

Gamaliel opened the passenger door and pulled Jacob's limp body from the car. Hoisting the small figure over his shoulder, he walked back toward the house. Behind him, the Porsche exploded, knocking Cody to the ground.

Izbazel emerged from the house and rejoined Gamaliel on the way to a Chrysler parked down the road. They dumped Jacob in the backseat and then got in the front. Izbazel got behind the wheel and they pulled away, honking politely at Cody as they passed.

"Well, shit," said Cody, pulling herself to her feet.

Eddie stumbled out the front door and made his way to Cody. "What do you think they wanted with Jacob?"

"How would I know?" asked Cody. "I don't even know the guy. I don't know those two demons either, for that matter."

"Jacob works for the FBI, I guess. Seemed very interested in the Anaheim Event. Not very helpful in terms of the Charlie Nyx problem, though. I know, I know, I should just forget about it."

"Hmm," said Cody. "About that...sorry I kind of lost it back there. I may have been projecting a bit. I'm starting to think I'm wasting my time with all this conspiracy stuff."

"No, you're right," Eddie replied. "That book was never going to work anyway. The Finch people have put so many restrictions on it, I might as well just start from scratch. Maybe I will. Hole up in the hotel for a couple of weeks and see what I can come up with. It will probably be shite, but at least it will be my shite."

Sirens wailed in the distance.

"Sounds like a good plan," said Cody. "We'd better get out of here. We're going to have a hard time explaining the gunfire and the exploding Porsche. Not to mention the fact that we're both technically trespassing. We'll take the Beemer. I'll drive."

"Fine," said Eddie, tossing Cody the keys. "I've been running from sirens all day. Ironic, isn't it?"

They got in the car.

"How is that ironic?" Cody asked.

"Because in Greek mythology, the Sirens lured men to their doom. But I hear them and I run away. Ironic."

Cody snorted. "Fucking writers."

Eddie smiled.

TWENTY-SEVEN

Christine found herself back on the miserable gray plane known as the Floor. This time, however, it was even more depressing than the last, as the plane appeared to be completely deserted. The portal was located in a sort of warehouse area; steel shelves packed with boxes containing God-knew-what filled a spacious, dimly lit room. She called out several times but there was no answer. She knew that somewhere, not far away, there was another portal that would take her to the planeport, but even with her impeccable sense of direction she wasn't certain she could find it.