Roberts’ brought his head up and steel entered his spine. I knew, aided by the digitized emotional feed coursing in through the trodes, that Roberts had somehow been motivated away from this evil path. He smiled and confirmed my belief.
“Then, one night, my partner and I were heading out for what would be our last attempt. God and the Devil came to us, and each showed us a vision of what we would reap in the afterlife. My partner held his hand out to the Devil and was taken to hell right then and there. I looked upon the face of God and chose the path of light. Praise Jesus, I was saved!”
Thunderous applause washed over me and I found myself mouthing the word “Alleluia!” I pulled the trodes off in disgust and let the Old One’s growl rumble from my throat. Raven looked over at me and smiled. “What do you think, Wolf?”
I patted my Beretta Viper. “I’ve got a love offering for the good Reverend, right here.”
Raven decided that might be a bit extreme as our first effort at contact. He gave me the address for Roberts’ ministry headquarters. I changed into a corduroy suit jacket, button-down shirt, and tie before I headed out, deferring to Raven’s sense of decorum, not mine. The clothes hid my silver wolf’s-head pendant and my Viper, but I didn’t so much mind that. When entering the lion’s den, it’s best to dress like a lion.
III
Roberts’ personal secretary was pretty enough that I would have considered converting were she willing to do some missionary work with me. She flashed me a smile as I came up the stairs to the third-floor foyer, but she kept getting distracted by the big goomer seated on the edge of her desk. He was clearly intent on ministering to her, but she looked like she wanted him exorcised faster than you could say “Amen.”
I cleared my throat and quickscanned her nameplate. “Evening, Miss Crandall. I’m Wolfgang Kies. I called ahead for an appointment with Dr. Roberts.”
The big man moved off the desk as she positively glowed at me. “Yes, Mr. Kies. Six forty-five and you’re exactly on time.” Her smile carried right on up into her blue eyes and clearly irked the other man.
“Do I get points for punctuality?”
“With me you do, Mr. Kies.” She looked up at the man. “Brother Boniface will take you to Dr. Roberts.” Boniface looked like an ape that had been given one of those all-over bikini waxes or a troll that had been cold-hammered into a smaller shape. Either way, he did not look happy to be in a suit and sent on a mission that would take him away from the charming Miss Crandall. As a result of his discomfort, somewhere inside his tiny skull one electron collided with another and all of a sudden he had a thought. It was too much for him to contain and he made his move to frisk me.
The Viper’s barrel made a thunk as I drew it in one smooth motion and poked a Mark of Cain in the center of Brother Boniface’s forehead. He retreated a step and raised both hands to cover the bruise. “Ask and ye shall receive, Boniface. Presume and I’ll make a martyr out of you.”
I let the gun slip forward and hang from my index finger by the trigger guard. Boniface made a grab for it, but I ducked it under his hand and slid it onto Miss Crandall’s desk. “Keep it warm for me.”
“My pleasure,” she cooed. The gun slipped from sight beneath the level of her desk.
Boniface slunk forward and led me down a short hallway to Roberts’ office. He only opened one of the two oak doors, but it was double-wide anyway and provided a stunning panorama as I entered. I didn’t feel slighted only getting the single-door treatment because I got the distinct impression that even if Jesus returned for an encore he wouldn’t get a two-door salute.
The very first thing I noticed in the room was the expensive wooden paneling on the walls, and the stunning number of leather-bound books lining the bookshelves. Reverend Roberts had laid out significant nuyen to splash old-world respectability around his office. The west wall was made entirely of glass, with a view of the Sound that impressed even the Old One. Shown a picture of this place and asked to choose whether it belonged to some highly placed corpgeek or a preacher constantly crying poormouth, I’d have been wrong even with two free guesses.
It took me about two seconds to scan the place and get the Old One’s howl to vet my opinion. By that time, the unearthly scent of hundreds of carnations assaulted my nose. Save for the top of Boniface’s head, every flat surface in the room boasted a vase jammed with carnations of various colors. I recalled the riot of flora surrounding the Reverend on the simchip, but 3-D reality was another order of magnitude above even that.
The gaudiest of the carnations resided in the buttonhole of Roberts’ lapel. Standing behind his desk, he nodded to me and extended his hand. “Welcome, Mr. Kies.” I accepted his hand and found his grip disturbingly firm. I normally judge a man by how he shakes hands, but Roberts’ grip felt too right and practiced. The difference might have been subtle, and I could have put it down to my general dislike of him, but I got the feeling he was playing at being a regular guy.
“I thank you for agreeing to see me on such short notice.” I dropped myself into the chair in front of his desk. Boniface drifted over to stand right behind me, but I chose to ignore him. “I apologize for any inconvenience to a man with your busy schedule.”
Roberts nodded and gave me a reassuring smile. “How could I refuse to see you when the message said you were interested in those children in the Barrens?” His smile grew and his hands spread wide apart. “Of course, I’ve heard of your Dr. Raven. Though I’ve never had occasion to use the services of an individual in your trade, what I have heard about Dr. Raven’s been very encouraging. The respect in which he is held by some of the lower classes will help ease concerns about possible sinister motives on my part. I must admit, however, I had not expected Raven to join forces with me in this matter.”
I leaned back in the padded leather chair. “I hate to burst your bubble, Reverend Roberts, but I’m not here to offer Raven’s help concerning the children. As you know, homeless children in the Barrens are legion, and most would welcome your aid. These kids don’t want it. We want you to leave them alone.”
His head came up and a bit of light reflected from his scalp despite the thinly sown rows of blond hair transplants. “Leave them alone? How can I do that, Mr. Kies?” His wounded tone began to parallel the tape’s parable preamble, but I could do nothing to deflect him. “Those children need help and I hardly think they’re in a position to determine what’s best for them. They need good food and schooling and direction. They cannot be allowed to waste away in the dung-heap of society. We must take them into our fold to encourage others to do the same with similar tragic cases.”
“Dr. Raven agrees with you in that regard, Reverend.” I held a hand up, sending a quiver through Boniface. “He’s already running full background checks on all the children in that house, using resources you don’t command. He will find out who they really are and will get them help. We can get them protection in the Barrens and we can ensure they receive the aid necessary for them to rise above their beginnings.”
“Can you, Mr. Kies? Can you expect me to back off when what you suggest is making them fit fish for that small pond, whereas I will take them away from the Barrens and make them productive members of society?”
I didn’t like the reproving tone of his question. “The people of the Barrens are capable of taking care of themselves. Betty Beggings and others work to form meta-family groups and to give people a solid base from which to operate.”
Roberts smiled like a shark. “But they do not have the resources at my command.” He stood and indicated the opulence of his office. “They can command tribute from others in the Barrens, dividing and subdividing a very small pie into yet tinier morsels. I, on the other hand, solicit money from the rich and well-to-do in this society. I get in single contributions more nuyen than Betty Beggings and all her ilk see in a lifetime. I can do for these children what no one else can.”
“But you do it at the cost of their freedom. They don’t want your help.”
<
br /> Roberts batted my objection aside contemptuously. “They are without proper documentation. They don’t know what they want. The law says they must have custodianship, and I have decided to be their benefactor. In following my example, other members of my flock will adopt other children from the Barrens and we will rebuild this society.”
My eyes slowly shifted from green to silver as my anger rose. “You will remake these children in your image?”
The good Reverend ignored my question as he walked toward the wall of windows in his office. He stood with his back to me, the dying sun making him a silhouette outlined by a red corona. The shadow narrowed, then expanded again as he turned to face me. “Do you believe in God, Mr. Kies?”
“I fail to see what that has to do with the matter at hand.”
“I’m sure you do, and I will accept that as a ‘No,’ for the sake of what I am about to say. You see, I do believe in God. I believe in a merciful and forgiving God, but a God who demands his people work for their salvation. Once upon a time I was like those children—wild, abandoned, and angry at society. Then God gave me a choice: Eternal Damnation or life with him forever. For the first time I looked beyond my next meal and chose a course for my life.”
The silhouette hung its head wearily. “My choice is not without its price. My God demands I do all I can to help lead others to him. The Kingdom of Satan started its millennial domination of the Earth in 2011—the first dragon was seen in Japan to herald this change. All this magic is merely Satan’s will made manifest. It is my duty and my calling to do all I can to bring Satan’s reign to an end, and I will do it.”
The strength in his voice spoke to me of a fanatical devotion to what he saw as his divine calling, but somewhere, deep down, I sensed I was being conned. “I don’t think we have anything more to discuss, Reverend Roberts.” I started to rise from my chair, but two heavy hands jammed me back down into it.
“You don’t go until Reverend Roberts says you can go.”
Deep inside, in the lightless cavern where the Wolf spirit dwells within me, the Old One howled bloody murder. Insistently he demanded I let him have control. He promised to reshape me into an engine of primal fury. I will show them a justice and righteousness that predates their tree-hung godling by eons!
I forced myself to be calm, but I let some of the Old One’s anger enter my voice. “Larry, do you practice faith healing?”
Roberts stiffened at the tone of my words, then nodded. “I do.”
“Good. Brother Boniface has three seconds to stop this laying-on of hands, or he’ll need all the healing you can give him.”
The Brother’s hands tightened.
“Two.”
Roberts waved Boniface back and the pressure eased. The Reverend returned to his desk and seated himself. “Brother Boniface can be overzealous, but that might be said of all my Warriors for Christ.” Though he smiled benignly, the implied threat was not lost on me.
I stood slowly and straightened my jacket as Boniface retreated and opened the door. “You may not believe this, Larry, but I actually do respect those who listen to the message from the Prince of Peace. I think, however, that the words you’re hearing are a bit garbled. Let me make this very clear: leave those children alone.”
Roberts smiled and laid his right hand on the Bible I’d seen him thump in the tape. “I understand your words, Mr. Kies, but I cannot be deflected from my course. On this very Bible I swore I would help them. I cannot go back on my word.”
I snatched the Bible from beneath his hand and saw him blanch as I started to flick the pages open. I saw that the liner sheet backing the cover had popped free. Amid the glue stains I glimpsed a curious collection of strange symbols, but they were as much gibberish as the Greek passages on the facing pages of the book. The flyleaf had been inscribed, “To my darling Tina, I will love you for eternity. Andrew Cole,” but that made even less sense than the other cryptic stuff.
He made a grab for it, but I held it back, frustrating his effort. My stare met his and he flinched. “Consider this a reading from the Second Book of Revelations: And the Wolf saith unto the Preacherman, if you want Apocalypse, stay your course.”
I tossed the Bible onto the blotter and plucked a carnation from the vase on his desk. Stuffing it into the buttonhole on my jacket, I turned on my heel and left him scrambling to clutch the Bible to his chest. I headed straight for the door, but Boniface grabbed me and spun me around to face him before I could leave the office.
“This is not over between us.” Though his back was to the window, the solar effect did nothing but make him a big-eared shadow. The threat in his voice made him into big-eared shadow clown.
I nodded slowly and carefully, letting the Old One fill me with the strength and speed I’d need. “You have a point there, Boniface. What do say we take it outside?”
His smile widened his cheeks enough to nearly eclipse his ears. “Yeah, outside.”
My hands shot up into his armpits and boosted him back toward the window before he could so much as yelp with surprise. The glass shattered in halo fashion starting with the area around his head, then fragmented into a million pieces. The glittering glass shower rained down as Boniface disappeared from view. A second later a vase of carnations I’d pulled from a table near the door followed him to the street.
I wiped my hands off on the drapes. “Sorry about ruining the view. Good day.”
Outside, after I’d shut the door behind me, I noticed Miss Crandall was having a hard time keeping a smile from her lips. She slid my gun across the desk to me.
“Much obliged.”
Her blue eyes sparkled. “My pleasure, Mr. Kies. God be with you.”
“Thank you, Miss Crandall. I’m sure one of them is.”
IV
I got back into my Fenris and punched in the ignition code. The scream of an ambulance siren started the Old One howling triumphantly in my head. I pulled away from the curb and got off the road before the Doc Wagon careened around the corner, lights blazing. It headed for the alley into which Boniface had plunged while I started down Fifth Avenue.
The meeting with Roberts left me angry and not a little puzzled. I had hoped that explaining to him that the kids didn’t want his help and assuring him they would be taken care of would be enough to deflect him. Raven had dealt with other “do-gooders” in that manner, and they were usually content to let shadowfolk take care of their own.
I had believed I could accomplish my mission until Roberts asked the stopper question: “Do you believe in God?” I’d known other preachers and found them all quite capable of rational thought and logical analysis of a problem. Like Roberts, however, when a discussion took them into a realm where they had no expertise or facts to bolster their argument, they resorted to the divine shield. For them, and for him, the ultimate refuge boils down to this: “We might not understand it, but it is part of God’s plan and we must do what we can to empower it or Satan will win.”
I was willing to grant Roberts his supposition that Satan had taken over the Earth in 2011, when magic made its return to the world. At the risk of being seen as a heretic, I also acknowledged that the reemergence of magic in the world had done virtually nothing to change the lot in life for most folks. Yes, the few lucky ones who could wield magic were able to turn that talent into a career, but it did nothing for those who were magic-blind. Giant corps still controlled the economy, and most of them controlled cadres of spellgrubs as well.
I recognized that my mental discussion was doing several undesirable things. First, I had half a mind to turn around and defoliate Roberts’ boutonniere with 9mm weed-killer. I realized that particular half of my mind had been taken over by the Old One, so I tucked the Homicide Hound back into his little box. I also saw that I was heading south toward the Barrens and I knew I’d not feel good unless I was sure the kids were safe.
While Roberts seemed very earnest and directed in his Christianity, the theatrical bits layered on top of it still made me
uneasy.
More than any of that, though, it dawned on me that I was hungry. I scanned the street and slid the Fenris into a parking place just up the block from a Dominion pizza joint. Even with an armed escort, the place would never consider delivering to the Barrens, so I went in and ordered five pizzas, including two vegetarian specials just in case Kyrie was not a carnivore.
While waiting for my order I decided to call the office. Valerie Valkyrie answered and got Raven for me immediately.
“How did it go, Wolf?”
“I discovered that Roberts’ bodyguard can’t fly.” I grimaced and chewed on my lower lip for a second. “Roberts appreciates our concern, but he says he’s made the kids into a centerpiece for a drive to encourage his flock in helping the disadvantaged. He sounds sincere, but something deep down inside me doesn’t like him, and I agree.”
Raven asked some pointed questions and I reported the meeting back to him as completely as I could. He sounded most interested in the Bible, its inscription, and the sigils, but my momentary glance at them made the information I gave him fairly useless. I promised I’d try to duplicate the symbols for him when I returned to headquarters and told him I was taking some food to the kids.
“Good idea, Wolf. Valerie has turned up some interesting information on Roberts, but we’ve yet to find anything truly sinister. I’ll have her working on this Tina and Andrew Cole. Maybe we’ll have something when you get back here.”
“Good. I’ll be back early, I think.”
I hung up and discovered, to my surprise, that my order was ready. I took the pizzas out to the Fenris and belted the stack of boxes into the passenger seat. As I got the car on the road, my stomach growled more fiercely than the Old One had ever managed.
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