by Ciaran Nagle
Flying Hippo, 25000 feet above Sahara Desert
Jabez peered out from the Fundial and took in the sights below. It was night-time over North Africa and the Earth's surface looked both lonely and desolate with only moonlight to display its wonders. Beautiful too though, in its own way.
The four-engined plane carrying Nancy, Adima and Jimoh Bah was just a few hundred metres off his side. He had watched it take off, waited till it had got to altitude and spent a few minutes cruising beside it, taking in its bulky beauty and its thundering ruggedness.
Now's the time, he said to himself.
Jabez could have done this operation without the Fundial. Angels could stay hidden on Earth, when they wanted to. But he needed to avoid oversight not just from people but from Infernals who might be tracking Nancy at all times.
Jabez swung his craft in towards the Hippo. He took the Fundial right inside the aluminium plane until he was inside the cabin. He leaned out of the craft's side window, found the clock in front of Jimoh Bah and breathed his instruction upon it. Then he breathed on Jimoh Bah's watch. Finally he did the same to the clock in front of Nancy. He paused to observe her for a moment. She seemed happy, excited and making plans about the future. He looked into her mind and saw what she was thinking and was sad for a moment. She was a nice girl who'd simply run into some very bad luck when Bezejel had decided to make her a project. I will protect you, I will bring you back, whispered Jabez. Jimoh Bah's watch and both clocks were showing 1.11 as Jabez swung the Fundial out of the Hercules and soared up into the sky. He took it away from Earth, past Mars, Jupiter and Saturn and out to Alpha Centauri and beyond. He looked down at the thousands of planets and systems where he knew angels were working, preparing for the day when the drawstring would be pulled that would untangle the convoluted chemics to create new heavens. What delights lay in store for humankind, he thought. What shining physics and twists of bio forms lay waiting for them to discover and explore. Oh how they would marvel.
His thoughts turned homeward and he selected a nearby gateway to take him back into the Fifth. Shortly he returned to the heavenly shore and was trudging over the shingle to his rustic accommodation and hammock. Agatha had sent him more tea and biscuits. He supped the hot brew and crunched the wafers and thought about friends.
On the Flying Hippo, Zhivkin fumed. The tough satyr was on sentry duty that night, watching Nancy. 'Someone's been here,' he called angrily to Kodrob. 'Someone's messed with my stuff. They've changed things right in front of me. I was watching, didn't take my eyes off her, but they've been here. The filthy white boys have been here. I'll have them. Nobody sneaks up on me and gets away with it. I'll have them.'
Eilat, Israel
'I want another mission,' repeated Nancy. 'Oh, and I'd quite like to be paid. And I want to meet your boss.'
'And perhaps you'd like my job too,' replied Habib sarcastically. 'And my Swiss bank account numbers.'
'All in good time,' rejoined Nancy, equally sarcastic.
They were sitting in Habib's car in the parking lot at the secret Eilat airport where Nancy had first embarked. Habib had been waiting for her off the plane and at first had been hard-faced and stern. But he was thrown off balance when Nancy had walked towards him bearing a smile. A smile indeed!
'Look, for the thousandth time,' she continued, 'when you sent me off to Gambia I hated you for manipulating me. I was frightened. I was angry. But something happened out there. I discovered myself. I found myself. I can't just go back to a nothing job in a wet high street travel agency.'
'Wet? What means wet?'
Nancy was enjoying Habib's discomfiture. She knew he was prepared to deal with tears, anger, threats and blame. For all of those he had a strategy worked out. He knew how to confront force, even violence, and turn them aside to get his way. He was a seasoned manipulator. But this was totally unexpected. Nancy had thrown him by asking for a job. With Brother. No-one worked for Brother unless they were already outside the law. Even with her crumpled clothes and unwashed hair Nancy knew she was the image of civility and niceness.
'Surely you can see that my story makes sense?' As Habib looked away Nancy tapped him heavily on the shoulder to bring him back, force him to look at her. Two could play bully.
Habib regarded her with frustration.
'Lafi,' he almost spat the word out. 'That no-good son of a camel. Yes, Nancy, it makes sense. It's just like him to think he could run a secret business on the side, using Brother's resources to help him. Probably thought he was really clever. Child-trafficking too. Now that really is evil.' He looked at her with feeling. Habib has values. Oh, really?
'If what you're saying is true he put in danger the entire cocaine supply chain from South America to Europe.' This was becoming personal, Nancy could see. If Lafi brought down the supply chain, Habib would go down with it.
'It took Brother years to put that together. And I was part of it.'
It was personal.
'If those villagers hadn't killed him, I would have.' Habib came the closest to losing his temper that Nancy had ever seen him. 'Plenty of others who can take his place.' He stared out of his side window and this time Nancy allowed him.
'I will verify your story, Nancy,' he said after a moment, his usual self-control restored. He leaned towards her, the bullying side of his character returning, staring menacingly into her eyes. 'If you have lied to me, I will hurt you and your friends. It would be better you leave Israel than wait to see what I will do.'
Nancy absorbed his stare. She returned it with a glare of her own.
She could see he didn't enjoy being put on the spot. Habib was used to forcing decisions on other people. Now he found himself backed into a corner by an enigmatic whirlwind he couldn't read. A whirlwind who was clearly in no fear of him at all. He needed space.
'OK Nancy, here what we do. First, you off the hook. For now. While I check your story. You free to have your holiday. You go home to your three boy friends.' Nancy gave him a sour look. 'Tell them your aunt OK, false alarm. Second, if you tell anyone about your mission, ever, we come after you. Even in ten years' time. We have people in England too. Understand?' She nodded. 'Third, meet me in Café Haifa on the beach front in two days. At noon. If your story is true, who knows? Brother always looking for people with ability. Maybe we use you.'
She nodded again.
'We talk more then. But I make no promise. OK?'
'Fair enough,' Nancy replied after a moment. 'I'll see you then.'
Nancy wanted to say more, but she realised she would only damage her prospects if she kept haranguing him with the same demand. She was also keenly aware of the irony that a man who had threatened her and her friends and forced her into a perilous situation was a man that she was now asking, voluntarily, to help her find a place in his organisation. But in the back of her mind she also knew that a future in Brother might open a lot of doors and one of them just might lead to an opportunity to pay him back.
Enough of that now, she thought, she mustn't let him think for a second that revenge might be on her mind.
Habib drove them back to Eilat town and dropped Nancy near the beach. It was 9.00am and she didn't want to face the boys just yet. Even though she was dirty and desperately wanted to wash her hair she stopped at a café and ordered tea and toast. The Gulf of Eilat was a perfect blue while the still air and cloudless sky promised another hot day. Windsurfers and swimmers were already out in the bay, sharing the warm water's hospitality. Almost, she felt she could relax. A solitary dinghy came past cutting a fine dash through the water and displaying the number 1.11 on its sail in bold lettering. Nancy's breakfast arrived and she ate it quickly then paid without waiting for change and went home. As she entered the shower and looked in the mirror she remembered the R and shuddered.
Red. 1.11.
Bugger it. Bugger it all.
Inferno
'I want the TRUTH,' Bezejel yelled at Zhivkin, 'how did it happen?'
She was pinning Zhivk
in against the wall by his neck with her left hand while her right was drawn back in a fist ready to strike him. Bezejel was slighter in stature than most male demons, petite almost. But the Leader of Inferno had endowed her with great strength and she had the ability to husk even the mighty Zhivkin with a single blow. If Zhivkin had thought Bezejel might be a pretty little plaything to spend some horizontal time with after work one day, he had changed that view within the last couple of minutes.
'Truth, ma'am, I give you truth,' Zhivkin was looking directly into Bezejel's eyes. 'I watch the girl all the time. How they change clocks I not know. No-one tell me to look at clocks. Many things on plane. Why I look at clocks?'
It was true that Zhivkin had raised the alarm with Kodrob. He hadn't hidden his mistake, he had reported it straightaway. For that she couldn't fault him. But Bezejel was so angry that she was minded to smash Zhivkin anyway. Just in time she reminded herself that he was part of a team and if she husked him without good reason she would lose the team's confidence.
She pulled her hand back and Zhivkin dropped to the floor.
'There's something going on that we haven't seen before,' Bezejel addressed Kodrob and the rest of the squad who were standing to attention behind her. 'Somehow, an angel got inside that airplane without being seen. Kodrob, you're in charge of finding out how and of making sure it doesn't happen again. Who's with Nancy now?'
'Lafarge is on watch, Madam Bezejel,' replied Kodrob. 'He will be relieved by Holzman later.'
'I want every one of you to keep a log when you're on Earth,' ordered Bezejel sternly. 'Report anything unusual. Angels have a habit of upgrading their tricks and playing new games. But we can catch them out and turn the tables on them if we're vigilant. We've done it before. Sooner or later they'll get complacent and then we'll pounce.' She looked down at the floor. 'Zhivkin, pick yourself up.'
The relieved demon got to his feet, glad that he was not about to be reduced to an imp or worse.
'You've an opportunity to make amends for your poor performance,' she announced sharply. See that you take it, there won't be another warning.'
'Ma'am,' he muttered, rubbing his neck.
Nancy's Apartment, Eilat, Israel
'Oh, it's been such a lovely day. The water is warm and the people are so friendly. How are you all? Have you had a good day digging?'
Martin Pete and Andy looked at Nancy in shock.
'Nancy, we were so worried about you?' Scrawny Pete.
What's this about your aunt? we didn't know if we should believe it.' Tawny Andy.
'We thought you'd been kidnapped.' Brawny Martin.
Nancy put down her beach bag in the TV room and slumped into a chair.
'I'm gasping for a cup of tea. Be a love would you, Martin, and put the kettle on?'
'Not till you tell us where you've been,' replied the latter, almost falling out of his chair. 'Was your aunt really sick?'
'Oh yes. It was all a false alarm,' replied Nancy breezily. 'Lots of planes, trains and buses all for nothing. She'll live another hundred years, I'm sure. I'll tell you all about it over dinner. But it's very boring. Anyway, all behind us now. I can get on and enjoy the rest of the holiday.'
Nancy could see they were all trying to work out if she was hiding something.
'So tell me, how is the dig going?'
'It's very interesting,' said Martin unconvincingly.
'But boring.' Pete.
'Lots of scratching away sand and earth with small trowels while baking in the sun.' This from Andy. Nancy noticed they took it in turns to speak. No-one liked to be left out.
'Oh,' said Nancy.
'But that's why we're home early,' continued Andy. 'It's too hot to work in the afternoon.'
'Well I think you should all get your trunks on and go down to the beach. I'll come too. I only came back here for my sun hat.'
'Sounds good,' said Pete. 'What do you say guys?'
'Oh by the way,' interrupted Nancy. 'Andy here has kindly offered to drive me to see my great uncle. Near Jerusalem. Andy, do you mind if we go tomorrow?'
'Oh is that still on? Fantastic.'
The others showed no surprise at this. Clearly Andy had boasted that he would get to meet a famous archaeologist if he drove her to her relative.
'Yeah, that'll be fine,' he added. 'I've already spoken to Professor Aaronovitch about it. He said I can have a day off. But where's the car Nancy? Have you arranged a hire car?'
'It's all in hand.' Nancy flashed her eyes at Pete. 'There's a car hire company only two streets from here that has what we want. You simply walk to the top of our lane, turn right, then take the second left and walk to the end of the road and there it is.' She hoped her directions were clear enough for Pete to follow.
'They're open from 8 till 6,' she added, not looking at anyone in particular.
'Well, that's great,' said Andy. 'We'll have an early start in the morning so we can be there when it opens. What kind of car have you hired?'
'Oh, I think you'll like it,' said Nancy smugly after a moment's thought. 'It's a nice car. So, shall we all go down to the beach?'
'Sure,' said Andy and Martin together.
'Er..I'll join you all later,' put in Pete hesitantly. 'I want to do some souvenir shopping. And I don't want to leave it too late. So, er..I'll see you on the beach in about an hour.'
Pete made eye contact with Nancy. Their clandestine agreement was still in place. Good. Otherwise she'd be in trouble.
'Though I think you should know...'
Trouble.
'…that we've experienced a shocking outburst of truth-telling while you've been away.'
All three were now looking at Nancy. All three wore smug grins.
'Go on.'
'I'm poor,' said Andy, the tawny one.
'And I'm rich,' said Pete, the scrawny one.
There was a long pause while they looked around at each other, pleased with themselves. Finally the other two looked at Martin and waited.
'And I'm gay,' said the rugby-playing brawny one.
Kibbutz Ramat Rachel, near Jerusalem
Andy turned the wheel gently and the supercat's engine almost purred with pleasure as it entered the kibbutz gates. A scruffy teenager in dusty trainers watched them suspiciously while continuing to bite on the chicken wing between his fingers. The sub-machine gun slung over his shoulder was like an extension of his body. He could bring it to bear in an instant if he sensed trouble, Nancy had no doubt.
'I wonder how many Jags they've seen in here before,' Andy remarked.
'None so beautifully driven,' replied Nancy. 'You could always be a chauffeur if digging up broken pieces of pottery ever gets you down.'
Andy was not going to be diminished. 'Every shard tells a story. Every bone is a life rediscovered. Stories and lives. That's what archaeology is all about.'
Andy noticed the signs pointing to the kibbutz car park. He kept the 12 cylinder engine to a 5 mph crawl.
'Very poetic,' agreed Nancy. 'If you had spoken to me romantically like that the other day you wouldn't have had to work so hard to get me into bed.'
'I didn't have to work hard Nancy. You were practically there before me,' he replied drily.
'Funny how men remember everything differently from how it really happened.' She leaned forward to direct the air conditioning vent at her face. 'But anyway, wasn't it good that Martin came out? He must be so relieved.'
'Yes, but it's not like it was a secret.'
'What do you mean?'
'Well, we all knew. Pete and I knew anyway.'
'How?'
'Well, there are only so many times that a guy can say 'no, she's not my type' at a disco before you start to realise that no girl is going to be his type.'
'So what did you think when I called him into the bedroom with me?'
Andy laughed. 'Pete and I just looked at each other and smiled. We knew it wasn't going to happen. It was just a matter of time before it all came out.'
Andy ch
ecked his mirrors as he reversed the big saloon into a tiny space.
He turned to Nancy. 'Well, we're here at the kibbutz. What now?'
'Let's go and find out.'
Twenty minutes later, after asking directions, Nancy and Andy walked into an apartment block on the kibbutz campus. They sat down on a sofa in the communal day room on the ground floor and waited.
'I'm a little nervous,' Nancy whispered to Andy. 'If truth be told.'
A vigorous shuffling could be heard approaching from the corridor outside. Then a figure appeared at the door and peered in. Nancy looked at him uncertainly. He was a short man of about eighty years, wearing a dressing gown and carrying a Hebrew language newspaper.
The man looked at Nancy and broke into a huge smile. His hands flew up in the air and he started to run towards her. 'Nancy,' he shouted in accented English. 'Nancy, I am so pleased to meet you at last.'
'Great Uncle Shai.' And Nancy found she couldn't move and waited for the old man to reach her. When he grasped her in his arms she was already crying.
'Oh, Great Uncle Shai…'
'Just call me Shai. I haven't got time left for great uncle. I might die before you get my name out again.' Accented but perfect English.
Nancy laughed through her tears. 'Shai. OK then. Oh, I didn't know I'd get so emotional. Oh my goodness. Till now I didn't really believe I had a living relative.'
'You got lots of them. But after your parents died everyone lost touch. Half of them went to California. The other half went to Brazil. Or Argentina.' He looked up pensively. 'Who cares? It was South Africa somewhere.'
