Modern Magic
Page 224
Richard hit the bag again, then once more, harder, making his fist throb. He turned to face Amelia.
“OK,” he said. “Train me.”
Amelia punched him in the stomach, dropping him to his knees, barely able to breathe.
“Rule one. Never let your guard down.”
“Noted,” he wheezed.
Dr. Know watched the banks of monitors before him, barely listening to Nobody’s words.
“Funny,” said Nobody. “I thought you’d be happy I decided to stick around.”
“These are not cheerful times for me, Richard. My years of hard work seem to be unraveling before my eyes. The Middle East is on the brink of self-destruction. The more effort I place on securing peace, the more the people clamor for war. Baby Gun’s attack on Jerusalem has taken on some sort of prophetic significance, I fear. He’s being seen as an avenging angel, martyred by Israeli jets. There’s no rationale, no logic behind what is happening there. To bring peace, I’ve channeled enormous resources to provide all citizens of the area with a strong economy, with good health and fair laws. Our dome project for Palestine will transform desert into cropland and allow people to live in a modern paradise. Yet everyone seems ready to throw these things away, all in the name of religion. The mention of the word Jerusalem seems to destroy all reason among residents of the area.”
“It’s been that way forever,” said Nobody. “Don’t blame yourself. Oh, wait, I bet Amelia gets her blame philosophy directly from you. You like blaming yourself for all of this don’t you?”
“Don’t be absurd,” said Dr. Know. “I don’t like blaming myself. But as long as we are discussing blame, I want to find out how you feel about my role in Veronica’s death.”
“Your role? What role did you play?”
“After you left, I placed Veronica and your parents under surveillance, guessing you might attempt to contact them. Rex Monday seems to be aware of your existence, and I feared he might try to use them to manipulate you.”
“How does he know about me? He seemed aware of me from the very first mission.”
“I don’t know. I can only speculate he has some method of spying upon my electronic communications.”
“That was a pretty clever gadget he cooked up to see me, that hood. Why don’t you fix me up with something like that, maybe in reverse? A suit I wear that lets people see me?”
“The hood’s circuitry was too damaged to reconstruct. But I can work to develop something comparable.”
“So maybe Rex Monday is another mad scientist with super-telepathy?” Nobody said. “That would explain a lot.”
“It would,” said Dr. Know. “But while I’m perfectly aware of the many absurdities of my existence, I’m not quite prepared to accept that I have an evil twin.”
“I guess that is a stretch,” said Nobody. “But here’s what I’m prepared to believe. I believe you want to make things better. So I’m signing on. I know you have projects all around the world. But if you need an invisible man on the ground anywhere, you can put me on a plane tomorrow.”
“Yes,” said Dr. Know. “Yes, I can make use of you. Get some rest. You’ll accompany Sarah to Jerusalem tomorrow. She is overseeing an important development.”
“Oh?”
“I’m taking the Old City of Jerusalem away from Israel. I’m making it a world city, under the protection of the United Nations. It will be ruled by a triumvirate of clerics, one Jew, one Christian, and one Muslim.”
“I can’t imagine many people are going to be happy about that,” said Nobody.
“I’m not searching for happiness. Only fairness and peace.”
“And you think people will go along with this?”
“Sarah can be very persuasive,” said Dr. Know.
“True,” said Nobody.
Jerusalem turned out to be many cities. Nobody wandered the streets, amazed at the contrast between the different cultures and eras. In the space of an hour, he could walk from modern shopping districts almost indistinguishable from an American city to the Old City, where narrow, sunken streets formed labyrinths through stone buildings unchanged for centuries. The whole city, old and new, was a trip back to the stone age. The rocks quarried from the land had a distinctive whiteness, and all buildings, old and new, were built using this stone. Nobody guessed it must be part of the zoning.
The other continuity was guns. Every shop, every intersection had guards, now wearing the baby blue helmets of UN peacekeepers. Nobody hung out in the restaurants, getting a feel for how people felt about this. Not many people spoke English, although many of the signs and menus sported it. He picked up enough to know that the average citizen, both Jew and Arab, viewed the UN troops with a feeling of dread. It was only a matter of time before the peacekeepers were tested for readiness by a suicide bomber.
Still, Dr. Know seemed on top of this. Nobody had been run ragged for a month, invisibly thwarting the plans of terrorists Dr. Know found with his telepathy. There had been a lot of bombs that failed to explode lately, and a lot of vehicles prepared for suicide runs that had mysteriously developed slashed radiator hoses and ruptured fuel lines.
Only this morning he had managed to put a stop to a situation in a hospital on the edge of Jerusalem. This time it had been an Israeli settler that had taken hostages on the third floor of the hospital, saying he would kill one person per hour until the Peacekeepers withdrew from the city and returned it to the sovereign rule of Israel. Nobody had reached the scene before Sarah, who was on the other side of town when the crisis broke out. He had infiltrated the third floor and discovered, to his great relief, that the hostages were already being released as the UN negotiator demanded. Then the gunman threw his guns out the window, and Nobody felt like his work there was done.
Then he saw the gunman set the timer on the bomb vest he wore under his coat.
“I’m coming out with my hands in the air,” said the gunman. “Don’t shoot.”
Nobody studied the bomb. The timer read ninety seconds. Just enough time to ride the elevator to the ground floor and be surrounded by a dozen UN Peacekeepers.
Nobody walked backwards as the gunman walked toward the elevator. Nobody ran his ghostly fingers along the wiring, searching for some pattern in the multicolored spaghetti. It was possible he might be able to pull a wire while the gunman was distracted, but which one?
Just then the elevator door slid open, the Thrill stepped out, looked at the gunman, and said, “Sleep.”
The gunman smiled as his eyes rolled up into his head. He swayed backward on his feet. A sickening hollow formed in Nobody’s stomach as he realized he was suddenly solid again, in the absence of any observers other than Sarah. Worse, he’d materialized in such a way that a green wire from the bomb was actually looped through the buttonhole on the sleeve of his shirt. He tried to keep the gunman from falling backwards, to no avail. The man slipped from his grasp and the wire popped out of the bomb with a barely audible snap. The timer froze at seventy-three.
The Thrill looked at the timer, then patted Nobody on the back. “Good work on the bomb,” she said. “How’d you know which wire to pull?”
“I always knew one day I’d sell my soul to the devil,” said Nobody.
The Israelis had once asked for a week without bombings. Thanks to Nobody, they’d had a month.
And what a whirlwind month it had been. The agreement had been announced shortly after he arrived. As far as the world knew, the agreement had been hammered out over long weeks of negotiations by the American President, the Israeli Prime Minister, and representatives from several Arab nations. Nobody knew the reality involved very little arm-twisting. The Thrill had just told those concerned what needed to be done, and they did it, with smiles on their faces.
Sitting in a street café on the edge of the Old City, eating falafel and humus, Nobody listened in on those conversations he could follow. Dr. Know’s scheme was accepted by most people. Or, if not accepted, tolerated. People here were used to the w
orld’s meddling.
The deployment of United Nations troops in the Old City was almost complete. A ceremony was planned at the square edged by the Wailing Wall. The three ruling clerics were to sign a treaty and take command of the city. Nobody rubbed his tired shins. It had been a long while since he’d had a day off. But he wasn’t complaining. He finally felt he was on the right team, that he could make a difference in the world. It was a good feeling.
Rail Blade joined the Thrill and Nobody the day before the ceremony.
“It’s been quiet,” said Nobody. “People seem to have accepted this world city idea.”
Rail Blade looked at him like he was a foolish child. “Rex Monday has something planned. He’ll do whatever it takes to stop this ceremony.”
“I can’t imagine how we can be any better prepared,” the Thrill said. “We’ve got UN troops everywhere. Everyone who enters the square to witness the signing will be checked for weapons. And of course, we have you scanning for weapons as well. If there’s going to be trouble, it won’t be coming from the crowd.”
“I still think something bad will happen,” said Rail Blade.
“We’ll be careful,” said Nobody. “Trust me, we aren’t complacent about this.”
“Good,” said Rail Blade. “Because these are the most serious stakes you can imagine. If something does go wrong, it could plunge the whole region into war, and drag the rest of the world with it. One false move, and we could trigger the Apocalypse.”
Nobody started to tell her to lighten up. But he wasn’t in the mood for another punch in the stomach, so he kept quiet.
A circular platform was erected in the middle of the square. Nobody stood at the foot of the Wailing Wall, staring at all the slips of paper stuck into the cracks. Studying it, he finally understood something about the sacredness of this place. He was cynical enough to doubt that the world truly held sacred spaces, especially now that he’d met the man who claimed to have assembled the world. But maybe it all came down to what people believed. He believed he was real, and so he lingered on despite the accident. People believed this ground sacred, and that was enough to make it so. He felt once more that he was grappling with things his mind hadn’t been fully prepared for, concepts too large to fit neatly inside his skull. No wonder Dr. Know used spares.
The signing was scheduled to take place at noon. Blue UN peacekeepers helmets were everywhere. A half dozen television cameras were set up to record the ceremony, with feeds available to all networks and news media. Ten thousand citizens of Jerusalem—Muslim, Jew, and Christian—had won tickets in a lottery to witness the signing, and the square was packed. Nobody walked through the crowd, keeping an eye out for anything that looked suspicious. Too many people were wearing loose clothes for his comfort. He kept imagining dynamite beneath every burqa or plastique in every suit. But Rail Blade would sense anything if there was trouble, and Dr. Know was on the lookout for minds shut to him, a sure sign of Rex Monday’s involvement. For the most part, people seemed excited and happy. Had Sarah talked to every resident of the city individually?
“Things look good here on the ground,” he said into his radio. “How’s the sky look?”
“All clear here,” said the Thrill. She was stationed nearly a mile overhead. The sky above the city had been declared a no-fly zone, and the Thrill was there to enforce it. “How you doing, Rail Blade?”
“I detect no unusual magnetic movement,” Rail Blade answered. She was hidden just outside the walls of the city, spreading her iron awareness to its limits. If anyone other than the UN troops tried to bring in a weapon, she would know it.
“Looks like the show is getting underway,” said Nobody, moving to the front of the crowd.
The three clerics solemnly strode onto the stage. The cameras recorded them as they took their seats at the large round table.
And then, without a noise of warning, the three clerics vanished. Their seats were empty. The crowd murmured in confusion.
“Something’s wrong,” said Rail Blade.
“What just happened?” said the Thrill.
Nobody ran toward the stage.
With a silent flicker, the three clerics reappeared.
Only, on second glance, Nobody saw the clerics weren’t the ones who had reappeared. They had been replaced.
By a skinny, scab-faced old man.
By a flame-haired woman whose chair was smoldering.
And by a teenage boy in jeans and a tee shirt, who knocked his chair backwards as he jumped on the table, faced the crowd, and shouted, “Boo!”
Chapter Fourteen
The Great, Big, Final Smackdown!
“Live from the Apocalypse!” said the Panic, facing the camera. “Citizens of Earth! Rise up! It’s time to riot in the streets! It’s time to take what you deserve! It’s the End Time, Armageddon, the Great, Big, Final Smackdown! Waaaaahoooo!”
Nobody’s stomach twisted in knots. All around him, panicked people were stampeding, trampling those too young or too old to move out of the way. Sundancer rose into the air, flinging glowing balls of plasma at the United Nation guards, who screamed as their weapons melted in their grasps. Pit Geek belched, bringing up a buckle to his lips. He tugged on the buckle, and dragged out a bandolier of hand grenades.
“Crap,” said the Thrill, her voice crackling over the radio. “Trouble. A dozen helicopters just popped up from nowhere. They—shit! Missiles fired! Missiles fired!”
“On it,” said Rail Blade.
In the distance, loud explosions could be heard. “Sarah, get down here and calm the crowd,” said Nobody. “People are dying.”
“Oh no,” said the Thrill. “Tanks. We have tanks moving in on the edges of the Old City.”
“Do what you can with the crowd,” said Rail Blade. “I’ll stop the hardware.”
High overhead, a glimmer of light, a daytime star, grew brighter and larger. In seconds, the image had resolved itself into the Thrill, clad in mirror armor, wielding her glowing sword.
The Panic looked up.
“Ex—” he said, and vanished, just as the Thrill reached him, slashing the air where he had stood. With grim satisfaction, Nobody noted a stream of blood whip from the sword as the Thrill pulled from her dive and shot back into the sky. Apparently, the Panic had been a little slow.
“Think I got him,” the Thrill said, her voice strained. “Felt like I got a solid hit.”
“Watch out!” said Nobody.
Sundancer blazed a trail behind the Thrill, slamming into her back with a hard tackle. The Thrill went into a spin but pulled up before hitting the ground.
“Monday’s pulled out all the stops,” Rail Blade complained over the radio. “Every tank I tear apart, two more pop up. I’ve never seen him use his teleporter so aggressively.”
Nobody wasn’t exactly focused on her words. Even with the Panic gone, the crowd was still going crazy. By now, Pit Geek had strapped on the bandolier and stood on the edge of the stage, lobbing grenades into the mob, laughing.
Nobody raced onto the stage, banging his fists on the treaty table to get Pit Geek’s attention. It didn’t work.
He noticed the treaty on the table. The formal, gold-rimmed parchment had vanished. In its place was a sheet torn from a notebook, with words written in red marker: “Screw it! Let’s just fight!” Beneath it were three neat signatures.
“Doc,” said Nobody. “The clerics. When Monday teleported them, could you follow them? Can you track them?”
“They reappeared beneath the ocean,” said Dr. Know. “They died in seconds.”
The platform shook as though an earthquake had struck. Nobody was thrown from his feet. The Thrill lay beside him, among shattered boards, shaking her head. She still had her shield, but had lost her sword.
“I’m so sick of this bitch,” she grumbled.
Nobody rolled aside as a ball of flame smashed into the Thrill’s shield. The Thrill flew into the air, deflecting another ball of flame, then buzzed over a UN guard wh
o was trying to carry a wounded child to safety.
“A little help here,” she yelled. “Shoot her.”
The guard dropped the child and placed his rifle to his shoulder, unleashing a stream of bullets toward Sundancer. Sundancer motioned toward the gun, melting its barrel, causing it to explode in the guard’s hand.
The Thrill swooped in, using the momentary distraction, screaming her best kung fu yelp as she delivered a powerful kick to Sundancer’s head. The burning woman spun backward, looking surprised and disoriented. The Thrill pressed forward with her attack, continuing to deliver savage kicks with her metal boots. The boots glowed red hot, but if the Thrill felt any pain, she didn’t show it. Instead, her features locked in an angry grimace as she struck Sundancer again and again.
“Come on, Sunny,” Pit Geek screamed. “Take her! You’re making us look bad.”
Sundancer didn’t have anything witty to say in response. Instead, she crashed to the ground, hard, rolling to a stop on the pavement stones. The Thrill swooped down, continuing her assault.
Pit Geek pulled a pin on a grenade and lobbed it toward the fighting women. It bounced on the stones, and burst open in a loud flash. Nobody ducked and covered his eyes as shrapnel ricocheted around him.
He blinked, trying to make sense of the smoking aftermath. The Thrill had been thrown back, lying still against the pavement, though her armor appeared to be intact. Sundancer was screaming. Her left leg was gone from the knee down, and jets of flame spurted from her wounds with each heartbeat.
“Oops,” said Pit Geek.
Nobody spun around, running toward the filthy bum. Pit Geek didn’t notice him. Nobody passed through him, and turned around. There were grenades on the back of the bandolier as well. Gritting his teeth, he pulled one, two, three pins, then ran. He was knocked to the ground by the explosion seconds later. Pit Geek’s head bounced to the ground in front of him, his eyes blinking wide, his lips mouthing words that Nobody couldn’t make out.