To Beat the Devil (The Technomancer Novels Book 1)

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To Beat the Devil (The Technomancer Novels Book 1) Page 35

by M. K. Gibson


  “Are you Loki?” I asked point blank. After all that had happened and after all the booze I had recently drunk, I decided to fuck subtly.

  “Yes,” he said without missing a beat in his dancing muscle routine. “It was one of my aspects, one of the many names I have been known by. Loki, god of mischief. God of fire.”

  I looked at Grimm for some kind of support, but he only shook his head at me and swirled his brandy. I was on my own in this.

  “What other names then?”

  “Prometheus.”

  “The Titan who brought fire to mankind.”

  “Yep. Sensing a trend?” Ricky stopped his biceps flex routine to ash his cigar and look at me, leaning forward. “I am sure Grimm has clued you into a bit on the nature of the universe?” he asked and nodded. “Once I was a celestial being, one of the old ones who came before. An Angel. You humans called them Giants or Titans, and a myriad of other things. I have always been on mankind’s side. I have always been the one to point your kind to enlightenment. And usually, I got punished for it.”

  “Didn’t you trick Hod into killing Baldr? Isn’t that kind of why Vali was created? To kill Hod for what you did?”

  “Fuck Hod and fuck Baldr,” Ricky said, spitting the words. “Listen up, kiddo. You never met a bunch of more egomaniacal pricks than the Aesir and Vanir. Take Valhalla, for example. You only get there for dying in battle, right? Well, what happens if you were smart and crafty and just plain ol’ badass? You defeat all your enemies and die in your bed? Are you rewarded? No. Only the dumbasses who got dead got to go to Valhalla. And to do what? Fight and die every day for the gods’ amusement only so you can feast and be reborn and do it all over again. Sounds kind of like Hell, doesn’t it? So I taught the Norse a lesson or two. They needed to be humbled from time to time, and reminded of what they were. Vali and Vidar were born into a world they only think they knew.”

  “Now you sling drinks?”

  “Remember when we met? I wasn’t slinging drinks then.”

  “No, you weren’t.” I recalled the incident. The bloodlust and the horror of it. “You killed demons. You fought alongside mankind.”

  “Always have, and always will. Who I am isn’t important. My deeds make me who I am. You were a piece of trash self-centered twat. Now look at ya. A little over two hundred and all grown up.” Ricky chuckled. I flipped him the bird and he laughed more.

  “But yeah, I sling drinks. Well, I pay people to sling drinks. As I am sure you heard, when God left, those of us here on Earth were stuck here. But what you don’t know is that most of our power went with him. We were shadows of our former selves. And when Hell rose up, most of the heavenly host hid. Too afraid to fight or to do anything. There were some who became more human and filled their roles per their mythology, like Vali and Vidar. They were born that way. But there were and are many run-of-the-mill angels out there still licking their wounds. Cut off from their power. Nameless. Faithless. That is why I became what I am. Power, no power—I just refuse to roll over and die.”

  I nodded. It was a good speech and one that didn’t need comment. I had a few more suspicions as to who Ricky could be. I also had a buttload of other questions. Like, are we alone in the universe? If not, did God abandon those worlds as well? What about quantum theory of multiple dimensions? Aliens? But I left them all alone for the now. I think drunk and smoking a cigar with the being that gave mankind fire is a hell of a way to cap off an evening.

  “Well, I used to pay people to sling drinks. I am out two bartenders.” Ricky turned to Grimm. “Need a job?”

  “No. Not really,” Grimm said. “I am vastly wealthy. But I can hang around for a while. Something tells me things are going to get interesting around here pretty soon.”

  Ricky snorted in agreement. “Your turn to answer some questions,” Ricky said to me.

  “Shoot.”

  “How did you know?”

  “Know?”

  “Your little speech, before outing Jensen. How did you know it was him?” Ricky leaned forward, interested.

  “His vid message. Jensen was usually my point of contact for my lightrunning clients. When I was to meet Grimm that night, Ricky himself set up the meet. Jensen didn’t know the name of the client. But, that night after I got home, I had a vid from Jensen. He called him Father Grimm. You weren’t exactly chatty that night, Rick, and our conversation was masked. So either he knew all along, or he was tipped off.”

  “Pretty flimsy,” Ricky said while he puffed on the cigar and swirled his brandy. I shrugged and relit my cigar.

  “Yeah it was. It was why I wasn’t curious yet. But all the dirt Jensen dug up on Grimm and gave me. It was too much. No one should have that much information that fast. Just a little suspicious. Then when Grimm and I got back from Midheim, I felt something was up with him. It was confirmed by Grimm when Jensen lied about being happy to see me. Then the raid by Abraxas’s men. Jensen didn’t get picked up with everyone else? How? Unless he knew it was coming. Finally, tonight when we got here, I got the last piece. Grimm and I found an ArcTech VK-7 Jammer by his place after it had been fire bombed. That is some serious tech. And very expensive. While my dad is no The Field, he knows his way around the Ultra Net. And he found that Jensen had purchased one around that time. I put the pieces together coupled with his lack of autonomic responses tonight. When I announced that I was a cyborg, everyone’s blood ran hotter. You guys, Vali and Vidar and Maz were all in the know, so no reaction. But Jensen, he was cool. He already knew.”

  “I am sorry. I know he was your friend,” Grimm said sincerely.

  “Thanks. But there is something else there. The way he spoke, the way he acted. Even how he tried to get me not involved with you. No, there was something personal about this. And his last comment. About ‘the mark.’ That’s twice now I’ve heard it. I just don’t know what it all means yet.”

  Ricky leaned over and refilled my glass. “Well, you aren’t going to figure it out tonight.”

  “True enough.” I raised my full glass, thanking him.

  After another hour or so, Ricky kicked us out. He told Grimm and me that we needed our beds and a day or two to nurse the hangovers we were going to have. We laughed but knew he was right. We hailed a taxi to drop us off near the limits of my property, the soon-to-be Löngutangar—once Maz filed the correct paperwork for us and Vidar and Vali got the rest of Midheim to move in topside. Yeah, things were going to change soon. Land Baron Salem. I was going to be responsible for over two thousand people.

  Hell.

  The thought of that nearly sobered me up. Well, not really, but it did focus me for a few seconds. If I wanted to, I could burn the alcohol out of my system in a few seconds, but for now I was just enjoying the buzz. Grimm staggered along with me up the winding path into the undeveloped zone I called home. Even drunk, he managed to walk like he had a stick in his ass.

  “You ever going to tell me who you really are?”

  “One day. When I feel I am able.”

  “Any clues?”

  “You have already heard many. You just decided not to comprehend them,” Grimm said with a little smirk. I glowered at him, ready to shoot him in the leg. Then I remembered I no longer had my guns. OK, fine. When I get new guns, then I shoot him in the leg.

  Grimm saw my grimace and rolled his eyes. “Glare all you like. If you figure it out, I will tell you if you are right. However, as Rictus said, it is not who I am or who I was. It is my deeds upon which you should judge me.”

  “And you should be more respectful to your baron, peasant!”

  “Come on, my lord. Tomorrow starts a new day.”

  The door to the elevator opened and I stopped and looked back on my land. Heh, my land. It looked like a waste now. But I could see it. I could see a possible future. Humanity does have hope. Drunk or not, for a moment, I truly saw it.

  “Salem.”

  “Yeah?”

  “What did Jensen say to you? To make you stop hitting him. H
e whispered something.”

  “Yeah. He said, ‘Dad, stop.’”

  Epilogue

  The entity known as “Ricky” locked the main door of his establishment known as Dante’s. The bar was silent. He was alone. He removed his sunglasses to reveal the pure white opalescent spheres of light that served as his eyes. He closed them for a moment, and his form began to change. He stretched and blurred changing forms, blinking from one to another.

  A Norse diety.

  A Grecian Titan.

  A Native American Coyote.

  A Spider, a Raven. Blink blink blink blinkblinkblink.

  In the center of Dante’s bar stood a nude Angelic being, giant, tall, and beautiful. Golden hair cascaded down its back. Outstretched feathered wings sprouted from its back nearly touched the opposite walls. The Angel radiated light and warmth. He was simply perfect.

  “Nice look, boss,” said a voice from across the bar.

  The entity known as “Ricky” turned to the voice, glowing white eyes blazing.

  “Pazuzu. You are late.”

  The air seemed to shimmer, then materialize as the air demon came into focus. Pazuzu walked to the bar and poured himself a drink.

  “Late? You know how much prep work goes into these rituals of yours?”

  “I do not care,” the entity known as Ricky said.

  “Come on, boss. Your guests just left anyway. If I was here any earlier they might have noticed me. Grimm would have probably sensed me and that cyborg kid isn’t an idiot. Oh, and by the way, losing archbishop status to that topsider sucks,” Pazuzu commented as he sipped his drink. His lion face made traditional drinking difficult, but he lapped at the bourbon.

  The giant angel crossed the space between them and knocked the drink from Pazuzu’s hand.

  “Boss? Urk!” Pazuzu gasped as the entity known as “Ricky” clutched at the air demon’s throat and held him aloft.

  “Who owns you?”

  “You do, Lord,” Pazuzu squeaked as he fought for air. The entity known as “Ricky” seemed to consider his prey, as any predator would.

  “Oh, put him down. And for Hell’s sake, put some clothes on,” a new voice chimed.

  A blue-skinned demoness stepped out of the portal in space-time she had created into Dante’s and slinked her way to the bar and sat down, the portal shutting behind her. She wore the same black corset as she had the previous night when she had carried Ricky’s message to the lightrunner and mage. Her braid had been let down, letting her white hair fly free.

  The entity known as “Ricky” blinked and shifted back to his contemporary form, that of the short, stocky, tattooed proprietor of Dante’s. Sunglasses intact, the entity known as “Ricky” embraced the female demon in a sensual hug and passionate kiss.

  “My lady Bathin, Archduke of the Central Kingdom of Ars Goetia.”

  “It worked. I can’t believe it worked.”

  “Oh ye of little faith,” the entity known as “Ricky” said as he moved behind the bar and began pouring a few drinks. “Pazuzu, get over here and get a drink.” The air demon obeyed his lord and joined Archduke Bathin at the bar.

  “You put a lot of faith in the lightrunner. There were no guarantees he would take the bait,” Bathin said.

  “Don’t doubt me, Bathin; it’s a bad bet to take. Grimm would naturally investigate the missing souls. That particular mystery has been his white whale since England. So I played up the shut-in routine. Acted crazier than usual. Then I let Grimm know about the bodies and hooked him up with Salem. He would have tracked it back to us sooner or later. I needed someone to spark his interest, while simultaneously leading them away from us and to Abraxas.”

  “Why not lead Grimm to Abraxas to begin with?”

  “I got this one, boss,” Pazuzu chimed in. “Because Abraxas’s operation was too clean. His machines nibbled at souls over time. When he was done with the bodies, they were incinerated. There was nothing to begin the search. Ricky set me up there as Abraxas’s archbishop to snoop it out. Abraxas was good at what he did. He would have eventually risen to power and he needed to be removed.”

  “Indeed,” the entity known as “Ricky” said. “Using my old spell to strip a soul away was the best way to lead them off. Just like I had done in England. I gave them a reason to investigate.”

  “What of the cyborg female? The dead one?”

  “She overheard me feeding info to Abraxas. She approached him on her own. Maybe to rise in station, or to surprise me with her initiative. But I think she just had a mad for Salem. Regardless, poor bitch got a raw deal. Well, play with fire and all that.” The entity shrugged, sipping at his drink.

  “The other cyborg. The traitor? Did you know he was spying for the princes?” Bathin asked. Ricky cocked his head and stared at the blue-skinned demon. “Right right, of course you did.”

  “The princes never forgave me for being better than them. Or more famous. I let Jensen pass back whatever he liked to them. But I made extra sure he never knew everything I was up to. If the princes thought me weak, they would move. Too powerful and they would move. I had to walk the fine line of mysterious and dangerous to keep them away.”

  The entity refilled his drink and topped off those of his companions. “By being selective of what I let Jensen see and know, I could indirectly control the princes. Which in turn let me control how they would react. Dantalion’s attack on Midheim and the firebombing of Grimm’s home was just the right push to solidify Grimm and Salem’s course.”

  “And my appointment? I thank you, lover, but how could you be sure they would think of choosing me?”

  “Because Salem thinks like a villain. As much as a hero as Grimm is making him into, he has spent a longer time in the presence of demons than without. His plan was simple. Once he knew who the source of the soul issue was, he had Maz’ael approach the demon who would help the most, while blackmailing the biggest threat. Now enough of this. If you are going to rule this kingdom, you will need extra power. Pazuzu, is everything ready?”

  “Of course, boss.”

  “Good.” The entity known as “Ricky” made his way to his private elevator shaft. Lady Bathin and Pazuzu followed. They reached the basement level and turned down the dark hallway. “Ricky” tapped a series of cinder blocks and a passage opened before the group with only the slightest grating of stone on stone.

  The passage was dark, and the entity removed his sunglasses. Pure white light flooded the dark corridor and the group made their way. The passage ended in a large circular altar, where three men and four women were bound by leather and chain. Precious stones and rare metals formed the outer circle with Denochian characters etched throughout.

  “Pazuzu, when we are done, you will need to dispose of the bodies very carefully. I don’t want them to surface and have Grimm or Salem thinking there is a new player in town. Not yet, anyway.”

  The demon nodded obligingly.

  “Are you ready?” the entity asked Bathin. The female demon took her customary spot. She paused a moment and turned to “Ricky.”

  “Are you sure you don’t need the extra juice?”

  The entity smiled and laughed softly. “No, but thank you. The greatest trick I ever pulled wasn’t convincing mankind I didn’t exist. It was convincing them that I was on their side. Everyone forgets that I am an angel, not a demon.”

  “Ahh, yes.” Bathin nodded, seeing “Ricky’s” train of thought. “Demons obtain soul power through trade and angels through faith, or rather, belief.”

  “Exactly. And everyone believes in The Devil,” said Lucifer, the entity known as “Ricky.”

  About the Author

  M. K. Gibson is a husband, father, a retired USAF MSgt and a lifetime geek. Ever since he saw the Rankin-Bass The Hobbit movie in 1980, all he ever wanted to do was create and tell fantastical stories.

  M. K. Gibson lives in Mt. Airy, MD with his wife, and first-line editor, Valerie, their son Jack, their schnauzer Murphy, newfoundland Sully and their ca
t Mini.

  Follow M. K. Gibson on Twitter at @GibsonMK1, Facebook author page and read updates and insane blogs at MKGibson.com.

  Table of Contents

  Foreword

  Chapter One

  A Faint Whiff of Decadence and Sulfur

  Chapter Two

  Sexual Desire and Booze Lubricant

  Chapter Three

  A Vinyl String Bikini and Booty Shorts

  Chapter Four

  Fucking with a Mechsquatch

  Chapter Five

  A Century of Re-runs Sucks Balls

  Chapter Six

  A Highly Metallic Plastic Protein Smoothie

  Chapter Seven

  An Odd Case of Pica

  Chapter Eight

  Blood, Oil, Death, and Cordite

  Chapter Nine

  Metal in Their Asses and Guns in Their Chests

  Chapter Ten

  I Hated

  Chapter Eleven

  Meet the Devil

  Chapter Twelve

  To Talk to Some Gods

  Chapter Thirteen

  The Origins of God at 180 mph

  Chapter Fourteen

  The Riders of Rohan Meet Delta Force

  Chapter Fifteen

  The Holy JC

  Chapter Sixteen

  Lightning Mixed with a Steroid Orgasm

  Chapter Seventeen

  To Toast and Brag and Exult and Live

  Chapter Eighteen

  Liquid Fire

  Chapter Nineteen

  Let the Burn Ignite Old Memories

  Chapter Twenty

  Always Absent the Light of Living

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Super Groovy Spooky Shuffle

 

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