“Kohai, shh! Wait.”
“Sorry.”
“Yes, I got it.”
We waited until Sett and the judge were out of view, then we toned down our cloaking enough to be able to see one another, though to others we would appear, if at all, as a kind of shimmering heat wave.
We sat down on the cool grass at the edge of the lake. The ducks Judge Minos had been feeding were already paddling away. Aware that our voices could carry a long distance, we continued our conversation in thought mode.
“They are going ahead with the match, Captain Volk.”
“That is not a surprise, Kohai.”
“But what if Captain Cyrus was right; that this match is wrong?”
“There’s nothing we can do about that now.”
“Nothing?”
“Nothing.”
“But nothing is such a big word, Captain. I mean, there is always something.”
“You heard the man. There’s a new sheriff in town. From now on we work for Commander Sett.”
“But what about our training? You’re not going to stop training me, are you? I don’t like Commander Sett. I want to continue with you!”
“I’ll speak to him and see what we can arrange. But don’t be surprised if he puts us out of business.”
“Well, this just sucks!” I sprang to my feet and paced in an angry circle.
I spotted a smooth, flat stone on the ground, picked it up, and whipped it skimming across the water. One, two, three, four…eighteen skips before it sank into the lake.
“Not bad, Kohai.”
“Darn it, I wish Captain Cyrus would have just gone ahead with that stupid match. Then we’d all still be together.”
“But he didn’t, and so we will just have to deal with the facts.”
“Yes, Sir…” I said, sitting back down beside him. “Captain Volk?”
“What is it, Kohai?”
“You knew Captain Cyrus better than anyone. Say he did arrive in one piece. Say he is still in command of his faculties. And, say he does remember why he was sent there. All that being so, do you think that he would just sit on his hands?”
“As opposed to what?”
“As opposed to trying to stop Sett or anyone else who tried to complete this match. After all, if Captain Cyrus felt that this was something so important that he’d surrender his angelic life for it, doesn’t it make sense that he would do whatever he could down there to stop this match?”
“He’s a mere human now, Kohai. What could he do?”
I shrugged. “Fight.”
Volk chuckled. “A lone man against all of Heaven and Hell? One lowly mortal to take on every man, yetzer, and cupid in the universe?”
“Yeah.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah. What would you do if you were in his situation, Captain? Would you just give up and let the whole world slip into a loveless pit of darkness? I don’t think so. Not as long as you had a flicker of life left in you.”
Captain Volk didn’t reply for a long moment. He was thinking, but he blocked me from reading his thoughts. I didn’t know we could do that, and so realized that I still had much to learn about this new power. I didn’t hear silence exactly; rather, something akin to the humming sound of a seashell at your ear.
“Kohai, if Captain Cyrus doesn’t find a way to galvanize his soul, then whatever life he may still have in him will be barely enough to wake him in the morning.”
“He’ll find a way, Captain. And if he doesn’t, I will.”
Captain Volk smiled. “I’m sure you will. But I’m afraid that by then it will already be too late. You heard Minos. Sett is to finish the match right away.”
“But say he does fire up his soul. He’ll try to save her, won’t he?”
“Yes, Kohai, supposing all that you suppose, I suppose he would try. But the odds against him would be like you skipping a stone across this lake to the other shore.”
I looked across the water to the opposite shore and recalled my measly eighteen skips. I sighed.
“Captain Volk?”
“What is it, Kohai?”
“Can we switch to verbal? I’m getting a headache.”
“You’ll get used to it with time. Do you still think this is ‘cool’?”
“Yeah.”
“Okay, then. Quit your whining.”
“Yes, Sir.”
“You’re using cloaking and telepathy at the same time, Kohai. Be proud of yourself. It’s quite an accomplishment.”
“Yes, Sir!”
Captain Volk got up and offered me his hand, yanking me to my feet. “Let’s go train while we still can. I want to work on your sword skills.”
“Yes, Sir! Thank you, Captain Volk, Sir!”
The captain looked searchingly at his feet, and then bent down and picked up a smooth, flat stone.
He peered across the lake, a squint of concentration on his face. Then, with a powerful, sidewinding fling, he sent the stone skipping across the water. The stone skipped and skipped, ten skips…fifteen…twenty…thirty…. The drifting bevy of ducks scrambled in panic, and full of quacking outrage, took to the sky. The rock skipped on all the way to the opposite shore.
“Whoa!”
“You are right, Kohai. Malachim should not concern themselves with odds. With God, all things are possible.”
28
X-Files
Professor Matterson opened the glass door to the University’s Psychology building and headed to the staircase for the two flights that would take him to his office. When he turned a corner to trudge up the stairs, he came upon a puzzling sight. At the bottom of the stairwell began a line of people, mostly students, but also a number of non-students.
He eyed the motley queue with suspicion and hoped that the line wasn’t being formed from his office door.
“Hey Dr. M,” a shaggy-haired, red-eyed student greeted. His ripped jeans and flannel shirt reeked of marijuana.
“Oh…hi, ahh—”
“Tim, remember? Soaring pig dot-com. The library. I was doing a marketing plan and used your printer?”
“Yes, Tim, of course. How is that working out?”
“Great! I’m taking the business online this month.”
“Good for you. What are you going to sell?”
“Handmade bongs and pipes produced in third world countries,” he said ebulliently.
“You don’t say?”
“Yep. We’ll be using the business to raise the consciousness of people here, and the standard of living over there! It’s win-win, eh?”
“If you say so.”
“Would you like to be an investor?”
“Ah, thanks, but no thanks.”
“Okay, but you’re missing out on a gold mine.”
“No doubt. Say, Tim, what is this line for?”
“Oh, we’re just waiting to see Ellen.”
“Ellen Veetal?”
“Yeah. We’re all here to be tested.”
“For drugs?”
“No, man, not that kind of test. All these people here think they have some psychic power. Cool, huh? But,” he added, lowering his voice conspiratorially, “I’m guessing at least half these people are just crazy.”
“But not you,” Matterson said.
“Nah. I read minds.”
“You don’t say? What am I thinking right now?”
Tim took a deep breath, closed his eyes, and held a clenched fist to his forehead. “…Got it! Dude, you’re thinking about going up to your office!”
“Wow, Tim, that’s…amazing.”
Tim nodded effusively. “Isn’t it? Isn’t it?”
“Yeah, well good luck.”
“Stay cool, Dr. M!”
Dr. M continued up the stairs squeezing past the line of psychics and headed straight for Ellen Veetal’s office.
“Excuse me,” he said to the first in line, an overweight woman with stringy, brackish hair with an inch of gray roots showing. A dozen bracelets jangled on her arms
as she cradled a crystal ball the size of a cantaloupe to her braless, sagging bosom.
“Hey!” the lady snapped. “Who do you think you are?”
“I don’t know,” Matterson retorted. “Peer into your crystal ball and you tell me.”
Professor Matterson knocked once and entered without waiting for a reply from either the woman or Ellen inside.
Upon entering, he saw Ellen sitting at her desk. Standing beside her was a skinny, anemic-looking young woman done up in black Goth style. The student stood in deep concentration, her dark-eyed gaze on an open book of matches inside an ashtray that she held in her hands. The would-be sorceress, her eye’s locked on the matches and grunting incomprehensible gibberish, was oblivious to his entry. Ellen’s black Labrador, Carl, lay on the floor, his head resting on his front paws, as if he were monitoring the corner of the room.
Ellen spun on her chair and said blithely, “Hi, Professor Matterson. What’s up?”
“Your office in flames if this missy succeeds at doing what I think she’s attempting to do. Ellen, are you aware there is a line at your door that goes nearly out the building?”
“Really?” Ellen said, impressed.
“Really.” He nodded towards the young woman. “How long has Vampira here been at this? Her makeup is starting to drip.”
“You’re right. Elsie, honey,” Ellen said, turning towards the young woman, “I think that’s enough. Thank you for your time. I’ll call you if I need you.”
Elsie didn’t respond.
“I think she’s gone catatonic on you,” Matterson said.
“Elsie…Elsie…” Ellen popped her gently on the forehead. “Elsie!”
The girl snapped out of her trance and looked at Ellen, her black-lined eyes still in ferocious concentration, her nose running. Ellen carefully pealed the ashtray from the girl’s clutches, stuffed a tissue into her hand, and gently led her out of the room.
“How many people have you tested so far?” Matterson asked.
“About fifty.”
“Any luck?”
“No.”
“You know, Ellen, it’s not too late to change your thesis. You could use this experience as a foundation for something in the realm of abnormal psychology. A greater number of freaks in one place I’ve never seen.”
“Hey, we never know. The very next person through that door could be the one.”
“That would be a fat witch with a crystal ball. I sincerely doubt it. So, are we still on for tonight? With that line of people waiting, I don’t see you finishing till midnight.”
“Oh, gee, Chance, I’m sorry, but I don’t think—”
Ellen’s dog let out a woof and sprang over to the corner of the room.
“Carl,” she scolded. “What has gotten into you? Sorry, but he is just obsessed with that corner. Maybe its the new meds he’s on.”
“So you are canceling on me?”
“Huh? What ever gave you that idea, silly?”
“But, you were just saying—”
“I’ll test another dozen and tell the rest to come back tomorrow. How’s that?”
“O…kay. Just knock on my office door when you’re ready. I have paperwork to catch up on anyway.”
Ellen pecked Chauncey on the cheek and let him out the door. “Next,” she chirped.
The woman with the crystal ball stepped in, but not without getting the last word in on Professor Matterson. “I knew you didn’t have any powers,” she sniffed.
“Oh, but I do,” Matterson replied eerily, a mad glint in his eyes. “I make voodoo dolls. And I’m off to make one right now.” He flashed a malicious smile and strolled off.
The woman gasped in shock and indignation. “Did you hear that?” she said to Ellen. “He threatened me!”
“Don’t mind him,” Ellen said, curbing her laughter as she led the woman into her office and closed the door.
“Okay,” Ellen said. “Name?”
“Helena Blavatsky.”
“Any relation to the nineteenth century Russian spiritualist, Helena Blavatsky?”
“I believe so. Related by reincarnation.”
“I see…”
The two cupids in the corner of the room, Captain Perseus and First Lieutenant Jason, chuckled and exchanged rolling eyeballs. They belonged to CSF (Cupid Special Forces), and were handpicked by Commander Sett.
Unlike cupid regulars who wore white, one-piece uniforms, CSF’s jumpsuits were black and gray camouflage. Both soldiers were highly decorated Golden Arrow recipients. Aside from Commander Sett and Commando Ajax, cupid cadets respected no Academy warriors more than Perseus and Jason.
Captain Perseus was tall, black skinned, dark eyed, and built like a stack of boulders. A member of Commander Sett’s first graduating class, when Perseus wasn’t in the field, he was teaching seminars on tactics, intelligence gathering, and special weapons training. Over his career he had received among other awards: The Distinguished Service Crossbow, Silver Star, Bronze Star for Valor, and Legion of Merit. Perseus was Sett’s go-to cupid whenever he needed something done right the first time.
The younger Lieutenant Jason was of average height and build, but what he lacked in brute strength he made up for in speed, dexterity, and unbridled ruthlessness. Lieutenant Jason didn’t just kill yetzers; he savaged them. Having lost his best friend on an early mission soon after graduating from commando school, he saw every yetzer as a means for revenge.
Jason too had his share of medals. His decorations included a Silver Star, two Bronze Stars for Valor, and six Purple Hearts. The Purple Hearts were evidence of the lieutenant’s derring-do, though many would say, recklessness.
“Captain,” Jason said, stuffing a wad of fresh chewing tobacco into his mouth, “why didn’t we do the couple while we had them together?”
“Because that isn’t the mission at this time, Lieutenant. Sett gave strict orders. No interdiction. Intelligence gathering only.”
“What is Sett so worried about? Why all the precautions?”
“Lieutenant, it is not our position to question orders.”
“Just sayin’.” He spat some tobacco juice on the floor.
“Besides, I agree that there is something fishy here.”
“Like what? I mean besides all these nutjobs traipsing into her office. You know it kills me to see so many damn demons in one place and not being allowed to blow their freaky heads off. It kills me, Captain.”
He withdrew a device from his holster the shape and size of a flashlight. He pointed it at Helena Blavatsky, and clicked it on. An ultraviolet light poured over the woman.
“Look at this old witch here,” he said. “What a stinkin’ mess. One…two…four frickin’ fear demons slithering around in her, and that’s without me stirring the nest.”
“I hate it as much as you do, Lieutenant, but we’ve got our orders. You didn’t notice anything else?”
“No.”
“The Veetal woman was about to turn down the guy for that date, but then she changed her mind.”
“I thought you had something to do with that.”
Perseus shook his head. “I didn’t do a damn thing.”
“Hmm,” Jason said, dribbling more tobacco juice onto the floor.
Perseus grimaced at the brown puddle and shook his head. “And there’s something else,” he said. “Turn your demon gauge on the Veetal woman.”
Jason shined the light on Ellen Veetal. Puzzled, he walked closer and gave her a more thorough examination. He turned to Perseus, “Demon-free?”
“Uh-huh,” Perseus said.
“The Professor too?”
Perseus nodded. “Nothing there either.”
“So, what’s stopping them?”
“That’s what’s fishy, Lieutenant. Someone or something is screwing with us.”
“Maybe Cyrus exterminated them before we downdrafted his ass.”
“Or,” Perseus said. “It could be a trap, and that’s why Sett is being extra careful.”
“What kind of trap? If there are demons, we kill the bastards, juice the humans, make sure they get to their stupid wedding, and call it a match. What’s the big deal?” He dropped another mouthful of spittle onto the floor.
“The big deal, Lieutenant, is that fear demons aren’t our only concern down here. Does the name Anteros ring a bell?”
“Sure, but he’s long gone.”
“He may be, but not his followers.”
“What are those ass-wipes doing down here?”
“Trying to get back up there,” Perseus replied coolly, pointing heavenward.
“What do these Anteros traitors look like?”
“They look like us. They look like them.” He nodded towards the two humans. “And they can even appear as that hairy, slobbering, barb-toothed Self-loathing Demon staring at you right now.”
“Really?” Jason’s hand instinctively wrapped around the butt of his demon duster.
“Nah, just messin’ with ya. Truth is, Lieutenant, between you and me, Anteros isn’t so bad. Most of what we’re told about them is BS. Academy propaganda. But you did not hear that from me. Got it?”
“No sweat, Captain,” Jason said, and spat again. “I figured as much anyway.”
Perseus looked at the puddle of brown spittle at Jason’s feet. “Lieutenant?”
“Yeah?”
“You’re disgusting, you know that?”
Lieutenant Jason grinned big and proud. “Yes, Sir.”
29
Castaways
Captain Volk overshot his mark by thirty yards and splashed feet first into the South Pacific. He bobbed to the surface, looked around for his baseball cap and spotted it floating a few strokes away. He bodysurfed to the shore of a tiny, lush, uninhabited tropical island.
Strutting out of the water, Volk slapped his cap across his thigh and tugged it onto his head. He chugged up the white sandy beach to where it met with the edge of the dense, nearly impenetrable rainforest. Spotting a large tree that had washed up onto the beach in the last typhoon between the shoreline and the jungle’s edge, he walked over to it and sat down to watch the approaching sunset.
As the sun morphed into a huge, glowing crimson orb fastened by pink and violet ribbons to the indigo sky, he heard a rustle coming from the jungle behind him.
Shooting Eros - The Emuna Chronicles: Book 1: Hell-bent (Shooting Eros Series) Page 17
