by Brey Willows
“Then edit yourself. Pare it down to the important stuff. Sure, teach other things. But only document the big rules, the really important items.”
“And leave what we say out loud beyond those rules open to interpretation? Isn’t that counterproductive?” Horus glared at Zed, his falcon eyes black and unblinking.
“That’s the point of being back among them. You can actually talk to them, get them to understand what you really mean. When they go off on tangents about killing and hating, you can set them straight.”
“And if we don’t want to?” Shiva sat rigid, his fingers drumming lightly over his necklace of small skulls.
“That’s why you’re here. As part of Afterlife, you agree to the basic rules. If you go against the rules, if you fail to tell your followers, then you’ll be penalized. That’s the way we’ve done it since coming together, and it’s even more important now.”
Mohammed stood, his dark skin an almost shocking contrast to Zed’s paleness. “Zeus speaks true. If we are going to be what the humans need us to be, then we must abide by the constitution set in place. Those who willfully refuse to help make humanity better, as we should, will be fined or, should they continue to refuse, an announcement will be made, and they will be stripped of their godhood. They can fade, or they can live among humans. But they will no longer live as gods.”
Stunned silence filled the room. Tis knew there would be consequences, there had to be, but to strip a god of their title…
“Why would you put such penalties in place?”
That came from a god Tis didn’t recognize. Now that humans knew the gods existed, many of the ancient religions that had only had a few figureheads suddenly had many more followers, and were developing new ideas of their gods all the time. She’d been talking to someone before the meeting, and their face had blurred for a moment before changing and becoming defined. Some important follower had described the god in detail, and the followers, believing that description, had actually changed the face of the deity altogether. It was distracting and, she thought, a little scary. If humans truly understood the power they held over their gods, she couldn’t fathom the consequences.
“Because by placing ourselves among humans once again, we must hold ourselves accountable to the highest degree. We are supposed to make their lives better, help them understand something beyond themselves. As such, we must give them guidance, and be above reproach ourselves. Failing our followers, we fail in the essence of our existence.” Zed spoke softly, but his command was clear.
Tis cleared her throat. “I’ve put that in writing. So, to be clear: no violence, redo your texts for clarity. Anything else?”
The Christian God stood up, his presence heavy in the room. “I propose we hold one another to a level of respect. Now that humans know we all exist, there is no reason to say one of us is better than the other, or correct while another is not. We teach as we believe, as our followers want to believe, and let them choose between us. We don’t put one another down or disrespect one another. The world isn’t divided into religious sections anymore. Our followers live among one another, and dividing them can lead to conflict.”
Again, the room stayed quiet as everyone contemplated it. For a god who’d admitted to being jealous and offed vast groups of people for praying to other gods, it was a grand gesture indeed.
“I like it,” Tis said. “It’s competition at its most honest. Answer questions truthfully, directly. If you lose some followers because of it, so be it. You’ll probably gain them from elsewhere. Maybe by showing respect for one another on a celestial level, you can show them how to behave toward one another.” Again, there were nods of agreement, while others seemed reticent. “Can I write it down?”
Zed placed his thunderbolt on the table, and other gods placed their own items of power on the table to show they agreed. Those few who didn’t, mostly gods of dissention and destruction, were outvoted. Tis wrote it down.
“Okay. No violence. New texts. Show respect.” She pushed the parchment toward Zeus. “I suggest we get everyone to sign this one. It seems like these are the most important rules for the moment. You can handle the other stuff without me in the meantime.”
He waved his hand and his thunderbolt signature appeared on the bottom. So it went around the table, until it came back with all the signatures on it, even from those who weren’t happy about it. Tis took it and put her own signature below theirs. “This document is binding. Those who don’t abide by it will face the indicated consequences.” She stood. “Now, if you don’t mind, I’ll be going back to my vacation.”
Ama stepped outside with her. “I can’t imagine how difficult this must be, Tis. I’m sorry so much has fallen to you.”
Tis shook her head and shoved her hands into her pockets. “It’s just strange. There are so many beings at Afterlife who are capable, but they’ve chosen me?”
“It’s because you think that way that you’ve been chosen.” Ama laughed lightly. “Do you truly think anyone else in this building is capable of being as impartial as a fury?”
Tis sighed. It was true. Furies were, by nature, lawgivers, and because they didn’t require followers, they could stay above the fray. “Okay. I get it.” She gave Ama a hug. “Keep the old man in line.”
She smiled, but there was tension in her eyes. “I’m doing my best. Many of the old religions are gaining strength, especially the Greek and Roman pantheons. Hera is coming back for a visit next week. That should be…interesting.”
Tis winced. Hera was cold at best and irrationally ruthless at worst. “Well, if you need some time away too, come find me.”
Ama turned to go back into the conference room, where one of the newer gods was gesticulating wildly, looking decidedly ungodly. “Oh believe me, I will.”
Tis had to decide what to do. Should she head back to France or go talk to her sisters? Just as she was making up her mind to head to France, Dani walked in.
“Hey, Tis. I’m surprised to see you here. I thought you’d be with Meg and Alec.”
“Why? Is there a job?”
Dani looked less tired and far more alert than she’d seen her in years. “Yeah, a mass shooting at a university in Tennessee. Some kids saying they were told by Satan to do it. One took his own life; five others are still alive.”
Tis looked over her shoulder. Neither Satan nor Hades was in the conference room, and they were two beings who definitely should be. As major figureheads in their religions, they often weren’t given god titles, but nevertheless, people prayed to them, which gave them divine status. She realized none of the underworld gods were there, and that they’d intentionally been left out. That wouldn’t be good for anyone in the long run. “Would you mind letting Ama know and telling her I suggest getting the underworld gods involved in signing the legal documents too? I’ll head over to the shooting.”
Dani nodded and squeezed Tis’s shoulder. “Will do. One of my team is working that one, but if you feel like I need to be there, just give me a shout.”
Tis gave Dani a quick hug and hurried out the back entrance. She wanted to get there, understand what had happened, and who they felt had told them to do what they’d done. If they’d done it on their own, as was most often the case, they’d be punished as usual. But if one of the gods really had instructed their followers to harm others, it became something else entirely. She sent a mental message asking her sisters to wait until she got there.
So much for France. She wondered if she’d ever see Kera again.
* * *
“Thanks for waiting.”
She gave Alec and Meg quick hugs before closing her eyes and feeling the scene. Death was everywhere, and the five shooters still alive were strangely calm.
“No problem. We could have handled this one, Tis. You didn’t have to come.” Meg snapped her gum, looking at her curiously.
“It’s not that, Meg. I know you could have. Can we go see the shooters? I want to get a sense of them before we act. Then I’
ll explain.”
Alec pointed toward a set of large double doors. “They’re in there, against the back wall.”
They went in and stood before the five young people. Tis thought they were all in their early twenties, if that, and for the most part looked like normal university students. But their calm silence was bizarre. They looked at the furies without fear, without any emotion, really. Until one smiled slightly.
“You look like minions of our Master. Are you?”
Suddenly, they all looked interested.
Tis asked, “Who do you consider your Master?”
The boy smiled, and if she didn’t know better, she would have thought him a demon.
“Our Lord and Master Satan, of course. The one true Master. It must have been—” He began to choke, and his hands went to his throat as though trying to pry something away.
Tis and her sisters hissed, and their snakes came to life. Tis looked around but couldn’t see or feel any other deity in the area. She looked at Meg and Alec, who also looked confused. The boy choked and writhed, his eyes bulged. Tis searched his mind, but it was an oozing mass of black strings—chaos and anger. There wasn’t anyone in it, nor was there anything tangible for her to take hold of. The boy took a last gasp and was still, an eerie smirk on his lips.
The other four kids stared at him impassively. A girl said, “He knew better than to talk about it. We all know.” She settled back against the wall and closed her eyes.
What the hell just happened? She searched the girl’s mind but found it utterly blank. No thoughts, no emotions, no…anything. It was the same with the others; they were empty except for strange spaghetti-like strings of black muck. Shaken, she turned to go. One of Dani’s team on the death crew came in.
“Weird. I thought I’d gotten them all and was just about to go. Then this one…but it feels really different.”
Tis looked at the boy. “Does he? How so?”
The Death girl squinted as though trying to see something. “It’s like death came from an attack on the inside—not illness, but someone else causing it. Humans can’t do that, can they?”
“Not without weapons of some kind.” Alec looked irritated and turned to Tis. “Does this have something to do with why you came?”
Tis nodded and indicated they should go outside. The Death girl knelt to take the boy’s soul but stopped short. “Um, guys? You should probably know…his soul is already gone.” She looked stunned. “Dani’s going to be totally pissed. No one else can do that, right? Damn, is she going to be mad at me?”
Alec raised her hands to get the girl to stop talking. “Dani won’t be angry with you. This is new, and we’ll have to figure it out. Let her know what happened, though, and tell her we’ll come talk to her when we get back.”
The girl nodded, hitched her bulging backpack higher, and ran through the back wall.
Tis, Meg, and Alec went outside and sat next to a large fountain.
“What’s going on?” Meg asked.
“I got called back to the office today to start writing down some rules. I hadn’t noticed at the time, but neither Satan nor Hades were there, nor any of the other underworld gods. These kids say they were told by Satan to kill their fellow students and that boy died while trying to tell us something. What do you think?”
“Would Satan be that ballsy? Or Hades? The others definitely wouldn’t. I mean, to tell humans outright to commit murder…”
“This feels more like demon work to me,” Meg said. “They tried that stunt with Selene last year, after all.”
“Without their leader, they won’t be organized enough to do it on their own.” Tis sighed, thinking furiously. “Here’s the larger issue. Can we, legally and ethically, punish the kids in there if they were told by a god to do what they did? What if the god has a hold of them on a deeper level, if their free will has been taken away?”
It was a question they’d had to deal with five thousand years before, when gods freely mingled with humans, and there weren’t laws in place to protect them. Apparently, they’d have to look at the question again.
“I think we should head back to the office. I’ll get someone from Purgatory to place them in holding until we can figure out what to do with them, and so they don’t go killing anyone else. Let’s talk to Zed and see if we can get hold of the underworld gods. We’ll go from there.” Alec opened her wings and leapt into the air.
Tis and Meg followed Alec, but Tis barely saw the land below them slip away as they flew. If there were gods openly advocating violence, what did it do to the decisions the other gods had made? If they didn’t come to an agreement, what would happen to humanity? Was it now possible for the gods to become more than what their believers made them? If they developed autonomy, who was going to stop them?
The weight of the questions made her wonder how she managed to keep flying. And as the sun sank below the horizon, she fleetingly wondered what Kera was doing.
Chapter Eight
Kera smiled and shook people’s hands as she made her way through the party. A benefit of having parties at her place meant she could escape to the office, or to one of the upper floors, whenever she was tired of the corporate douchebags.
Tonight’s soiree, though, was about being present. GRADE was a sought-after partner by corporations all over the world, and she wanted a few new contracts so she could start some new projects she had in mind. She smiled for a photographer as she shook the president of OilCo’s hand.
“Nice to see you doing so well, Ms. Espinosa.”
His smarmy grin and flappy jowls made her want to wipe her palm on her date’s off-the-rack dress. Her date smiled prettily while holding on to Kera’s arm. To be sure, she looked the part; her red gown was cut down the front, all the way to her navel. Generous, probably fake, breasts were barely covered, and her long brown hair shone to perfection. She was stunning, and Kera would have no problem enjoying an hour or two between the sheets with her.
“Nice to see you too, Ed. How are the missus and the kids? And Marcy?”
He laughed again, but his expression was shrewd. “Only you would so indelicately bring up a man’s mistress, Ms. Espinosa.” He shrugged. “But everyone is fine, thank you for asking. Now, I wanted to talk to you about that parcel of land in Albertine Graben.”
Kera inclined her head slightly. “Happy to talk about it, Ed. But you know how popular that particular piece is. There must be a dozen other people here interested in it as well. What kind of terms are you interested in giving?”
His fake smile receded, and she saw the ravenous CEO rise to the surface. “I know your terms. And you know how we work. We haven’t had an accident or leak in more than a decade, and I know damn well no one else here can say that. We’ll hire thirty percent of our workforce from the local community.”
“Thirty percent? I hire more than that as kitchen staff. Enjoy your night, Ed.” Kera turned away, ignoring him as he tried to call her back. Each player in the game upped the stakes, and by the end of the night, she’d have not only that deal done, but half a dozen others as well.
They made the rounds, and she soon tired of her date hanging on her arm. “Feel free to roam, darling. I’ll catch up with you later.” She wasn’t worried about the woman’s discretion, nor her intelligence. She had clear parameters when it came to her dates. They needed to be smart, well-read, and able to handle themselves in a high-flying crowd. She didn’t have time to police what her date might say or do, and having a beautiful woman on her arm played nicely with the powerful old white guys. More than once, her date had overheard conversations that had proven extremely lucrative for Kera. Her dates were women she knew and liked, and even better, they all knew the rules of the game. She offered a good time, excellent wine, and even better sex. But that was all. She didn’t have time for more, and the dates she took to events like this one respected that. Briefly, she wondered how Tisera would do in a crowd like this. Kera looked around the room and studied her guests. How many of them
are on Tis’s naughty list? The thought was sobering. Could I be one of those people? Although the thought of being on the receiving end of Tis’s disciplinary action was chilling, more disturbing was the thought she wouldn’t want to disappoint her that way.
“Kera!”
Yanked from her thoughts, she focused on Ajan’s bear hug.
“You look like a promotional ad in a lesbian magazine.”
She straightened her waistcoat and tux shirt. “Yeah, well, you look like an ad for terrifying celebrity bodyguards.”
He laughed, looking decidedly uncomfortable in the expensive suit she’d had made for him. As her chief of staff, she needed him at functions like this occasionally, and he’d never buy something so extravagant for himself. She knew how important image was in the high stakes games they played, and she made sure they looked the part. Granted, she always looked the part, but it didn’t hurt to surround herself with people who looked like they knew the game too.
He touched her arm and gently guided her down the hall toward her office. “Can we speak privately for a second?”
“I’m not accepting your marriage proposal, no matter how many times you ask.”
He put a hand over his mouth. “That always makes me feel a bit sick. I’ve told you, you’re way too muscly and hard. I like my women soft.”
“Something we have in common, my friend.” She closed the office door behind him and flipped on the music to cover their conversation. “What’s up?”
He stared at her seriously for a minute. “I thought you should know, we’ve got a lead on Degrovesnik.”
She gripped the edge of her desk and leaned toward him. “Tell me.”
“Boss, are you sure you want to go down this road—”
“Ajan. Tell me.”
He sighed. “He reached out to one of our contacts. He wanted weapons, but our contact isn’t running them anymore. He left a number in Dermenino, Russia.”
“That area of Russia is mostly abandoned now. It makes sense that chickenshit would hide out someplace like that.”
