“But our scholars teach that Marduk is the greatest warrior of all the gods,” Enoch said.
“Well, I don’t know about that,” Mercury replied, “but the guy can’t find the end zone to save his life. The point is, the sooner you drop all this polytheism stuff, the smoother the transition is going to be for you. There’s just the one God. Everybody else is just middle management.”
“Transition?” Enoch asked, puzzled. “Transition to what?”
“Ah, here it is!” Mercury exclaimed. Enoch turned to look in the direction of Mercury’s gaze.
A glowing pattern of light about two feet in diameter had appeared on the ground a few yards away.
“What on earth…?” Enoch gasped.
“Interplanar portal,” Mercury said. “Step on it, and it will take you where you need to go.”
“And where is that?”
“No exactly sure,” said Mercury. “They don’t tell me much. All I know is that my superiors have decided to extract you from this plane. Your gift, see, your musical ability? You weren’t really supposed to have it. Jazz music isn’t supposed to be invented for another 3800 years. Your presence here is screwing up the Divine Plan. I mean, already we’ve got speakeasies, the mafia and the Untouchables back there. What’s next? Flappers? Silent movies? This isn’t the Roaring 1920s B.C., you know.”
“I’m not sure I completely follow you,” admitted Enoch.
“Of course you don’t,” replied Mercury. “None of this should make any sense to you. It’s all one giant anachronistic fustercluck. Now step on the portal, please. Those things cost a fortune to keep open.”
“And if I don’t?”
“Well, presumably my bosses will have to extract you in another way. They’re itching to try out this new pillar of fire thing they’ve been working on.”
“So the gods are going to –”
“God,” corrected Mercury.
“So God is going to kill me because I play jazz?”
“That’s a vast oversimplification, but in the interest of keeping things moving – yes, God is going to kill you because you play jazz.”
Enoch frowned. “So I die in a pillar of fire or I die by stepping on this… portal.”
“Oh no,” said Mercury, reassuringly. “I mean, yeah, a pillar of fire will kill you, no doubt about that. But this,” he said, gesturing toward the glowing pattern, “This is just a portal. A doorway to another plane. You should feel flattered, really. This is the first time they’ve bothered with an actual extraction. Usually when they need to take someone out, they use lightning – or a pulmonary embolism, if they’re trying to be covert. So yeah, I’d go with the portal if I were you.”
“Fine,” grumbled Enoch, eyeing the portal. “I’ll go. I’ll even accept monotheism if I have to. But I want a new saxophone.”
“That shouldn’t be a problem,” said Mercury. When Phil comes by with your harp, tell him that Mercury said you could have a saxophone instead. He owes me one. A favor, I mean. Not a saxophone specifically.”
“Don’t move!” yelled a voice behind them. “You’re surrounded!”
Bronze Age G-men emerged from behind several boulders, spears at the ready.
“Go!” cried Mercury, and Enoch stepped onto the glowing disc. He immediately vanished, and a split second later the portal disappeared as well.
In unison, the men surrounding Mercury hurled their spears at him. Mercury stood unflinching in the midst of the assault as he was mercilessly pelted with what turned out to be half a dozen very confused iguanas.
The G-men, frightened and now unarmed, ran away screaming.
Mercury chuckled and picked up an iguana that was trying to hide behind a rock near his foot. “Another job well done, Spearie,” he said, stroking the iguana’s head. “Time to head back to Babylon. Those ziggurats aren’t going to build themselves.”
Follow the angel Mercury as he gets into even more trouble in Mercury Rises!
* * *
[1] The Domesday Book used by the angelic Apocalypse Division is not to be confused with the survey of England conducted by the Normans in 1086 A.D. For one thing, despite the name, the Norman record is oddly unconcerned with domes. In contrast, the angelic Domesday Book is, as the name indicates, largely a schedule of dome construction.
[2] In 1921 B.C., the Spiritual Gifts Department was still part of Prophecy Division. Given Prophecy’s tendency to “give away the store,” as the mortals say, it’s no surprise that humanity was subjected to such absurdities as Samson killing 300 Philistines with the jawbone of a donkey and the prophet Balaam being rebuked by his own ass. These and several other regrettable ass-related incidents led eventually to the infamous “Special Commission on Miraculous Asses” (SCOMA) and, ultimately, the restructuring of Prophecy Division.
[3] Two-handed applause had not yet been invented.
Table of Contents
[1]
[2]
[3]
Mercury Swings Page 2
