No Surrender, No Retreat

by L. J. LaBarthe

  “Agrat and Raphael, yes?” At Adramelek’s nod, Ondrass nodded as well. He removed a silver-chased cigar case from the pocket of his very expensive navy-blue wool coat, opened it, and removed three cigars. Using his power to light them with a twitch of his index finger, Ondrass handed one to Markus and one to Adramelek, then placed the third between his lips.

  “So who is involved?” Markus asked as he nodded his thanks to Ondrass.

  Adramelek pulled a face. “One of my least favorite Fallen Ones—Marchosias. And one whom we know quite well, so I was rather surprised when Lightbringer told me.”

  “Who?” Ondrass asked, unable to keep the curiosity out of his voice.

  “Uphir.”

  “What?” Ondrass sounded shocked.

  “Mm, yes, that was my reaction when Lightbringer told me.” Adramelek shook his head as he remembered their conversation.

  “He was very angry, wasn’t he,” Ondrass said, and it wasn’t a question.

  “I don’t think there’s a word yet to describe how furious he was.” Adramelek sighed.

  “What did he say?”

  “Once I got to the Castle of Black Ice, Ba’al—his seneschal—showed me to the balcony that overlooks the Lake of the Eternal Flame. Never a happy spot in Hell, as you know. Lightbringer was pacing, which I knew meant he was going to be in a mood.”

  “It amazes me sometimes that you and he remain on such good terms,” Ondrass noted.

  Adramelek laughed. “We were very good friends in Heaven. I joined him because I agreed with him. I didn’t join him for personal gain. That he rewarded me with power, prestige, and position was his own choice. I didn’t ask for it. But”—he grinned boyishly—”I’m not so foolish as to turn all the trappings of power and rank down, either.”

  “Of course not.” Ondrass laughed. “You wouldn’t have Fallen with him otherwise.”

  “We all are selfish from time to time.” Adramelek looked up at the sky, the clouds dark and threatening, fitful pellets of snow and ice spitting down from them. “At any rate, Lightbringer told me what was going on, that some enterprising greedy humans had been sought out by Uphir and Marchosias and a deal had been struck. Uphir and Marchosias think that because Lightbringer is unable to leave Hell—at least not yet—that because he is stuck there, he would be unaware of what they were up to here on Earth. That was their first mistake.

  “Their second mistake was using their powers, which they come by from Lightbringer’s gifts, to make the serum that renders an angel unconscious; to secure locations around the world to hide the angels who are kidnapped; and to set up the means by which to hide the humans’ transactions as the angels are bid on by the wealthy and the foolish.”

  Ondrass hummed. “What are you going to do to Uphir and Marchosias?”

  “Uphir, I haven’t decided yet. Marchosias… well, Marchosias is going to be enjoying my skills in the fine art of torture for a very, very long time.”

  “Can you perhaps get him to speak in the modern idiom while he’s screaming and begging on your rack, sir?” Markus asked. “I wouldn’t mind him blathering in ye olde English if only he used the correct syntax.”

  Ondrass and Adramelek burst out laughing.

  “He does have difficulty in using his thees, thous, and forasmuches correctly, doesn’t he?” Adramelek was amused. “You find it as irritating as I do?”

  “I do.” Markus wrinkled his nose. “I enjoy Shakespeare as much as the next demon, sir, and it hurts my ears when Marchosias tries to emulate the idiom of The Bard. And fails.”

  “It hurts my very grubby soul,” Adramelek agreed whimsically. He put on a fatuous, vapid expression and in a whiny voice said, “Please, my good lord, darling, sweetie, thou art very wonderful and so are thee and thine.” Adramelek rolled his eyes. “I don’t think I can imitate him properly. It hurts me to try, and I used the vernacular better in that terrible attempt at imitation than he does on a daily basis.”

  “He’s a fop and an idiot,” Ondrass agreed. “I shan’t be sad to see him go.”

  “We’ll drink to it,” Adramelek agreed. “Maybe I’ll cut out his tongue. He’ll still be able to scream, but he won’t be able to form sentences of poorly constructed overblown Elizabethan English.”

  “I’ll drink to that.” Ondrass inclined his head.

  “Amen,” Markus said fervently.

  “So, Uphir,” Ondrass said, his voice like ice.

  “Am I to take it that you have something in mind?” Adramelek raised an eyebrow as he looked at Ondrass.

  “Perhaps, yes. We brought him into our circle of influence when that ridiculous farce with the Grigori charms was being perpetrated. He was eager enough then to form an alliance with the Brotherhood of Archangels, and now he’s actively aiding and abetting humans owning them as pets? I take offense at having my good character blemished by his actions.”

  “Lightbringer knows that you, Melcherisa, and Lix Tetrax aren’t involved in this,” Adramelek pointed out.

  “I have no doubt. It’s a matter of personal pride, however.” Ondrass’s face was stern. “It would not surprise me to learn that this was his plan from the beginning and he took us all for a ride, as the humans say.”

  Adramelek widened his eyes then narrowed them to slits. The wind howled around him, echoed by the wolves in the ruined city below.

  “If that proves to be true,” Adramelek said in a cold voice, “then I shall personally rip out his soul.”

  “Will His Majesty wish to question Uphir and Marchosias before turning them over to you for their final and eternal punishment?” Markus asked.

  “That was his order, yes. As I said, Lightbringer is one pissed-off ruler right now.”

  “Perhaps get a confession from the pair of them prior to taking them to the Castle of Black Ice,” Markus suggested. “Something signed in blood.”

  “Hm.” Adramelek considered it. “That isn’t a bad idea. Thank you for suggesting it, Markus.”

  “I live only to serve, sir.” Markus bowed.

  “I can see why you two get along so well.” Adramelek’s expression was sly. “You think along the same lines.”

  “We’ve been together a long time.” Ondrass shrugged. “In all senses of the phrase ‘been together’.”

  “I thought as much. Congratulations on your couplehood.” Adramelek rolled his shoulders. “Uriel will be here in fifteen minutes. Will you stay?”

  “We would be delighted.” Ondrass lifted his cigar to his lips. “Oh, perhaps Markus and I should be… circumspect while you and Uriel speak.”

  “I was about to suggest that.” Adramelek turned back to the roof and pointed at a large hulk of rusted metal that had once been an air-conditioning unit. “Behind that. He’ll be so focused on me and on getting the information he wants, he won’t be scouring this spot for anyone else.”

  “All right. Oh, one more thing—where are Uphir and Marchosias and their little human friends keeping the angels?”

  Adramelek grinned. “Australia.”

  Ondrass looked surprised. “That wasn’t what I was expecting you to say.”

  “What better place to hide, then? It’s the least expected.” Adramelek gestured. “Uriel comes.”

  “Right.” Ondrass and Markus moved quickly to hide behind the pile of metal, and Adramelek lazily pulled a pair of chairs up from one of the empty apartments and sat down in one. He continued to gaze out over the dead city, watching a herd of Przewalski horses trot down what had once been the main road through the city as the sound of an Archangel appearing filled the air.

  “Uriel.” Adramelek didn’t turn. “Take a seat.”

  Uriel stomped over to the other chair, the gravel that covered the roof crunching loudly beneath his feet. He sat and glared at Adramelek. “I am not happy to see you,” he said.

  “Likewise. You stink of purity and goodness.” Adramelek wrinkled his nose.

  “Oh shut up. I don’t have a lot of time.” Uriel leaned forward. “Why are we
here, in this dead place?”

  “It suits me.” Adramelek looked at Uriel calmly. “So, business, then?”

  “Yes.” Uriel growled. “Then I can leave this stinking town.”

  “How droll.” Adramelek rolled his eyes. “Very well. Terms?”

  “I won’t kill you… yet.” Uriel looked as if he were choking on the words. “And we’ll have Pax until this situation is resolved.”

  “Done.” Adramelek spat on his hand and held it out to Uriel to shake. After a moment, the Archangel followed suit and they shook hands.

  13

  “WHERE do you want me to begin?” Adramelek stretched out his legs as he sprawled on the rickety chair.

  Uriel shrugged. “Wherever you want. I just want information.”

  Adramelek couldn’t resist teasing. “You’ll have to be more specific. Information about what?”

  Rolling his eyes, Uriel said, “You know what. Don’t waste my time, Adramelek, I don’t have a lot of it. What is going on with these kidnappings?”

  “You really hate having to come to us for this, don’t you.” It wasn’t a question. Adramelek regarded Uriel thoughtfully. “It really gets your goat that your mighty Brotherhood has exhausted all possible leads and has to come to a Fallen One for the most important information.”

  “It’s not my favorite thing, no.” Uriel scowled. “Look, we know how to neutralize these collars, we know what the cells holding our kind are like. We know that they’re being sold on the black market via the Internet. What we don’t know is who is doing this, how, and where they’re keeping our kind.”

  “Then I shall be glad to fill you in.” Adramelek took in Uriel’s skeptical expression and met it with a raised eyebrow. “What? Why wouldn’t I be? This situation annoys me greatly, and Lightbringer is what you might call beyond enraged.”

  Uriel grunted at that. “Lightbringer’s temper tantrums don’t concern me.”

  “They should.” Adramelek’s voice was severe. “The day of his rising will come, Uriel. And when it does, Michael and he will face each other and fight it out.”

  “After years of suffering and bloodshed, yeah, yeah, I know.” Uriel waved a hand, impatience written all over his face. The wind blew his blond hair back, and Adramelek could see the worry lines on Uriel’s forehead.

  “It must be wonderful to be so blasé.” Adramelek shook his head. “Very well. First, though, when I give you the names of the Archdemons involved in this, I am also telling you that under no circumstances are you or any angel—especially any of the Brotherhood of Archangels—to kill them.”

  “Why?” Uriel looked as if Adramelek had taken away his favorite puppy.

  “Because that pleasure goes to me, and I have plans for them. Very long, painful plans. Plans that are far worse than anything you lot can devise.”

  Uriel considered that and nodded curtly. “All right, done.”

  “Uphir and Marchosias are working with some greedy humans. Uphir has concocted a sedative of sorts that knocks an angel unconscious. He and Marchosias have been providing the power and resources to hide the cells the angels are kept in while the humans use their technologies to facilitate the sales.”

  Uriel gaped. “Uphir? The same Uphir who was all buddy-buddy with us before the damn war?”

  “Yes.”

  Uriel’s eyes narrowed. “Can I punch him in the head just a bit?”

  Adramelek pretended to think that over. “I don’t see why not.”

  “You’re too kind.”

  “I am, really. You’re very lucky to be dealing with me.”

  Uriel barked a harsh laugh. “All right, then, so what’s going to happen with Marchosias?”

  Adramelek flexed his fingers like large talons and smiled a nasty little smile. “Oh, Marchosias is going to be a guest of mine for some time. You could say he’ll spend eternity fully comprehending the stupidity of his choices and actions.”

  “Lightbringer know they were planning this?”

  “No.” Adramelek shook his head. “He knew when they started, because their power comes from him. Marchosias less so than Uphir, of course. Marchosias is a former angel, after all. However, Marchosias presumes too much and takes too many liberties with the gifts Lightbringer gave him to start with.”

  “And Lightbringer isn’t known for his forgiveness,” Uriel mused.

  “He has a temper, yes. But so do you.” Adramelek shrugged. “All you firstborn do. Some of you are slower to lose it than others, but you all have a good chunk of that Old Testament wrath of God within you.”

  Uriel sighed. “I suppose. Okay, so Uphir and Marchosias, and they’re marked for some fun times in Hell. I can live with that. So, who are the humans?”

  “A consortium of businessmen who buy and sell goods and services that should not be for sale.” Adramelek pulled a face. “They work behind the scenes of governments, they outfit extremist militias, they meddle and stir the pots of paranoias. And they make a lot of money out of selling drugs, sex, and weapons. Angels are considered the most exclusive of purchases. They’re a status symbol of the highest sort among humans of the nastiest sort. Humans who will, upon their deaths, be flung down to await the pleasure of Lightbringer at the Castle of Black Ice.”

  Uriel’s scowl deepened. “Good. Slavery’s disgusting.”

  “I agree.”

  “You know,” Uriel drawled, “we aren’t supposed to agree on anything, you and I. And yet, this is the second time in a century.”

  “I know.” Adramelek grinned. “It’s one of the seven signs of the Apocalypse.”

  Uriel laughed at that. “Probably. Okay, so Sophiel can deal with the Internet thing. She’s the techy angel. It’s not out of her abilities. I’m sure Tzadkiel, Brieus, and she will come up with something brilliant to deal with that. So the last thing I need to know is, where are Raphael and Agrat?”

  “Australia.” Adramelek lit another cigarette. “Maralinga, to be precise.”

  “Mara-whata?”

  “Mahr-ahh-ling-gah.” Adramelek said it slowly, enunciating clearly.

  “Where’s that?”

  “Oh, Uriel.” Adramelek shook his head in disgust. “Do you not pay attention to the way humans name their places?”

  “Not so much. I concern myself only with the Gates of Hell, the city of Eden, and wherever Raz is. The rest doesn’t interest me.”

  “How is Raziel, by the by?” Adramelek asked.

  “Tangential question. He’s all right. Stressed.” Uriel tapped one foot impatiently.

  “Hm. I would imagine so.” Adramelek sat up a little straighter. “All right, pay attention. I’m about to give you a bit of information about Maralinga, and you need to know these things.”

  “Fine.” Uriel sighed theatrically.

  “You’re such a child, Uriel.”

  “Takes one to know one,” was the tart reply.

  Adramelek pinched the bridge of his nose, shook his head, and began. “In the fifties and sixties of the twentieth century, the British did a load of nuclear tests in Australia, in a spot in the desert called Maralinga and Emu Fields. Seven major tests were conducted and hundreds of minor ones. Naturally, as with this once thriving city of Pripyat, the radiation levels were ridiculously high and humanity could not withstand them. The term ‘dead Earth’ applies perfectly to the area of Maralinga.

  “There have been quite a few attempted cleanups of the area, but the fact is that the region is simply too soaked in radiation to allow humans to live there. As it is desert anyway, that isn’t such an issue in terms of flora and fauna, but for the indigenous Australians, it is a huge issue, as the area is sacred land. There have been a lot of people who have been made very, very sick by exposure to the testing, and there was talk of suing the British government toward the end of the twentieth century.”

  Uriel frowned, puzzled. “Okay, so a patch of desert in the middle of Australia—”

  “—middle of the state of South Australia,” Adramelek interrupted.
>
  “Whatever. There. So this desert, that’s basically like this God-forgotten city in the Ukraine, soaked in nuclear radiation… I don’t get it. Why there? I mean, there’s loads of desolate places all over the world.”

  “Tell me,” Adramelek said, “the cells you found in northern Russia. Where were they, exactly?”

  “Near Archangelsk, I’m told.”

  “Mm. And what do they do in Archangelsk?”

  Uriel sighed. Loudly. “How would I know?”

  Adramelek echoed his sigh. “How on Earth do you manage with your head stuck in the sand like an ostrich, Uriel? Very well. Archangelsk has a very large, very new and shiny uranium processing plant. It was built during the war to process raw uranium for nuclear power plants, providing an alternate fuel source. Do you think, then, that maybe, just maybe, uranium or similar radioactive material might be part of what Uphir and Marchosias use to keep these cells containing the angels hidden from everyone?”

  Uriel frowned. “Okay, sure, but what about the carbon apes they have working with them?”

  Adramelek wriggled his fingers. “Magic,” he said, drawling the word.

  Uriel clenched his jaw. “I really want to punch you,” he said.

  “I know. Infuriating, isn’t it?” Adramelek grinned. “Go back to the Brotherhood, Uriel, and tell them what I’ve told you. Your beloved will figure out how to put it all together.”

  “Raziel needs to rest,” Uriel growled.

  “He can rest later,” Adramelek said. He raised his voice as Uriel snarled, and said, “He does not have the leisure to do so yet. When you, Gabriel, Michael, Samael, and the armies of Heaven go marching in, then he can rest. For now, his giant Archangel brain is needed. And Tzadkiel’s as well.”

  Uriel shook his head. “I really dislike you, you know that?”

  “The feeling is entirely mutual. Incidentally, the robes these humans wear protect them from radiation. That’s a little trick of Uphir’s.” Adramelek waved a hand. “Go. Did you or did you not say that time was limited?”