The Everything Box

by Richard Kadrey

  “Hey, man, I’m not sure this is a ‘we’ situation.”

  “What does that mean?” said Steve.

  “It means you were the boss. You fucked something up. Plus, you let your brain-dead kid lose the silver dagger.”

  Steve and Jorge grabbed each other and fell over onto the boar. Jerry pulled at his father’s sleeve.

  “Goddammit, Dad,” yelled Jerry. “Turn around.”

  Steve looked over his shoulder at the horde of vampires and werewolves, the ones that had missed out on Mr. Lemmy and his boys. Their fangs glittered jewel-like in the dark.

  “Fuck Caleximus,” he said, and they all ran for the escalator.

  Jerry had run track in high school, so even with his aching ribs, he was the fastest down all thirteen floors. When he hit the lobby level, he pumped a fist in the air and whooped. Everybody, the gill people, the ghosts, the human tourists, and the security guards, all stared at him.

  When he turned and looked back up the escalator, he realized there was no one behind him.

  “Oh, crap.”

  Upstairs, a lone figure streaked with other people’s blood came stumbling past the corpses, the dead beasts, and the mass of feeding bloodsuckers and wolves. They took absolutely no interest in the dead man at all.

  Salzman made it all the way back to where the search had started. He stopped just a few feet away from Coop and thrust the box into his face, almost colliding with Coop’s nose.

  “I win,” he said.

  “Excuse me,” said an old woman. She tapped Salzman on the shoulder. He looked down at her, wondering where the old biddy had come from.

  “I’ve been looking for a box just like that for my niece,” she said.

  “It’s for her sweet sixteen,” said the old man by her side.

  “Go away,” said Salzman.

  “The box,” said the old woman. “We’d like to buy the box.”

  “It’s not for sale, Granny. Beat it.”

  “You don’t have to be rude about it,” said the old woman.

  “Yes. Manners,” said the old man. He pulled a knife from his pocket and stabbed Salzman in the side. The old woman pulled her own knife and stabbed him in the other side. Salzman gasped. Being dead already, the knives couldn’t kill him, but they sure stung like hell.

  Leviathan and Beelzebub smiled wide, revealing as much of their faces as they could. Salzman, a man who’d been alive, then dead, then sort of alive again, and was unused to surprises, was surprised. He stopped struggling with the knives for a second. It was the teeth that fascinated him. So big. So gray and dirty. So many bugs running around them.

  And then Leviathan bit off his head, swallowing it whole. Salzman dropped the box and Beelzebub picked it up.

  “I guess we win,” she said.

  “Not necessarily,” said Coop.

  “Not necessarily at all,” said Qaphsiel, strolling over from the elevator. He pushed past Coop and lunged at Beelzebub, snatching the box from her hands.

  “It’s mine,” Qaphsiel yelled, using his thundery voice. He held the box over his head. “Mankind, prepare to meet thy doom,” he said, and slowly, delicately—savoring every second of it—began to open the box’s lid.

  “Stop!” yelled the stranger.

  “Do you have any idea who these people are?” said Bayliss.

  Coop shrugged. “I gave up when the fish showed up.”

  The stranger lay his hand over Qaphsiel’s, pushing the box’s lid down firmly. Qaphsiel looked at the stranger up and down in disbelief. “Raphael?” he said.

  “Yes. It’s I,” said the angel. “Your old friend Raphael. Embrace me, brother.”

  Qaphsiel opened his arms to his old friend, and Raphael dove for the box, knocking Qaphsiel flat onto his back.

  “What’s wrong with you?” said Qaphsiel, struggling to his feet.

  Raphael stepped back. “I can’t let you do it, old friend. This world isn’t going to be destroyed. Not tonight and not by you.”

  “What are you talking about? This is my divine quest,” said Qaphsiel.

  “It was. It’s not anymore.”

  “You’ve spoken to God?”

  “Yes,” said Raphael brightly. “He said you should forget the whole quest and come back home.”

  Qaphsiel frowned. “I know angels aren’t supposed to lie, but I think you might be doing it right now.”

  “Nope. That’s exactly what he said.”

  Qaphsiel’s eyes narrowed. “I don’t believe you.”

  “Who cares? I have the box. It’s over.”

  It wasn’t over.

  Qaphsiel threw himself at Raphael, knocking the box from the angel’s hand. It spun in the air, turning, somersaulting, and twirling, before smashing into the floor and breaking into a hundred pieces.

  Nothing happened. There were no earthquakes. No volcanoes. No tidal waves. No one even got indigestion. The world remained very much intact. Raphael and Qaphsiel looked at Coop.

  “Did I mention that’s not the real box?” he said.

  “But that’s the box. I know it is,” said Qaphsiel.

  “Maybe your memory is a little shaky after four thousand years.”

  Raphael got to his feet. “Where is the real one?” said Raphael.

  “I forget.”

  “Maybe this’ll help,” said a familiar voice.

  Coop turned as the gun went off. He twisted and fell to the ground. Someone screamed. He hoped it was someone he knew and not one of the idiots. It meant someone liked him enough to care when he croaked.

  Nelson walked over to him, moving the gun back and forth, keeping everyone covered. “Where’s Salzman?” he said.

  “Dead,” said Bayliss. “How did you find us?”

  “He called me, you nitwit. The moment your pal here called him. But now he’s dead. Boo-hoo. I guess the box is mine. Where is it?”

  “Gosh, Mr. Wizard. I just can’t remember,” said Coop as it gradually occurred to him that he wasn’t dead and merely shot painfully in the arm.

  Nelson put the muzzle of his gun to Coop’s head. “I couldn’t hear you. Where did you say it is?”

  “Here,” shouted Bayliss. She took something out of Coop’s bag and brought it over. Nelson snatched it from her.

  “Oh, right. That’s it,” said Qaphsiel. “I remember now.”

  “Thanks for the confirmation, whoever the hell you are,” Nelson said. He turned back to Coop. “As for you, you pain in the ass . . .” His finger tightened on the trigger. But that’s all it did, because a fraction of a second later, there was a bang and a large, bloody hole appeared in Nelson’s chest. He looked over at Bayliss, who kept her gun pointed at him. “I’m going to give you such a lousy review,” he said. And collapsed next to Coop. The box skittered from his hand across the floor.

  Qaphsiel and Raphael dove for it. Qaphsiel was faster. “It’s mine again,” he said. “After all these years.”

  “Stop for one second and listen to me,” said Raphael.

  “No more lies,” said Qaphsiel.

  Raphael held up his hands. “Just the truth from here on. I didn’t want to tell you the real reason you can’t destroy the world.”

  “Why?”

  “Because it’s going to upset you.” Raphael pulled a battered green folder from his coat pocket. Coop blinked. It looked exactly like the one he’d stolen from the Bellicose Manor safe.

  “How did you . . . ?” he said, but couldn’t get out the rest.

  “What is that?” said Qaphsiel.

  “The deed,” said Raphael.

  “To what? The box?”

  “To Earth.”

  “Pardon me?” said Qaphsiel, his voice cracking a little.

  “You heard me. God gave me the Earth. Well, not ‘gave it to me’ gave it to me. I won it. Since you’ve been gone, he’s developed quite a taste for Texas Hold’em. The problem is . . .” Raphael looked around conspiratorially and touched the side of his nose. “God’s got a tell.”

&n
bsp; Qaphsiel stared. “I’ve been here for four thousand years, searching and searching, and it meant nothing?”

  “Not nothing,” said Raphael. “Everyone upstairs is very impressed with your stick-to-itiveness. They’re even going to give you your old job back. Though I’m afraid after four thousand years, the office-supplies closet is a pretty big mess.”

  Qaphsiel sat down on a bench against the wall. “This can’t be real. The world can’t be yours,” he said.

  “I’m afraid it is. In fact, I’ve already been redecorating as I walked here. Little things at first. Then San Francisco. Soon I’ll start on Los Angeles.” Raphael shook his head. “I’m sorry, old friend, but your journey is null and void.” Raphael rolled the folder up and put it back in his pocket.

  Coop tried to struggle to his feet. He put out his arm and Giselle helped him up.

  “You should stay down,” she said.

  “I want you to push me,” he said.

  “What about the bomb?”

  “There is no bomb. And if you care anything about me, push me.”

  Giselle gave Coop a hard shove. He stumbled back, fell against Raphael, and slid to the ground. Raphael stared in revulsion at the blood streaked down his coat.

  “You see what I’m talking about?” he said. “This is exactly the kind of thing that’s going to stop now that I’m in charge. I’m going to make this world into a new Heaven.”

  “That’s ridiculous,” said Qaphsiel. “The Earth wasn’t meant to be Heaven. It’s a flawed place and meant to be so.”

  “Not anymore,” said Raphael, sitting down next to the other angel. “People, animals, plants, they’re all going to straighten up now that I’m in charge. And no more of this continental drift nonsense. The continents are fine where they are.”

  “You simply can’t make these arbitrary decisions,” said Qaphsiel, exasperated by the whole discussion.

  “Yes, I can. I can be every bit as arbitrary as I like. It’s mine.”

  “Raphael is kind of a dick,” said Sally.

  “That’s being cruel to dicks,” said Giselle.

  “Sorry. You like them more than I do.”

  “That’s true.”

  Coop crawled away from the angels. Giselle and Sally pulled him to his feet. “Someone cloud someone’s mind and let’s get out of here,” he said.

  “I can’t leave Nelson,” said Bayliss.

  “Fine,” said Coop. “But you drag his sorry ass. I’m not helping.”

  They left as quietly and invisibly as they could. If either of the angels had looked around, he would have noticed them missing and the twin trails of blood leading to the escalator. But neither did.

  Beelzebub and Leviathan looked around at the carnage and the bickering angels, feeling as frustrated and disgusted with the planet as two salaried demons could.

  “Those two aren’t going to stop, are they?” said Leviathan.

  “Doesn’t look like it,” said Beelzebub.

  “Still. It doesn’t sound like the world’s going to end right away.”

  “True. Lucifer will be pleased.”

  “Pleased enough to let us off this shit assignment and come home?” said Leviathan.

  Beelzebub looked at his friend. “There’s only one way to find out.”

  Arm in arm, they disappeared in a puff of sulfurous smoke.

  The other angels, Heaven’s good angels, just kept on arguing into the night.

  THIRTY-FIVE

  THE WELCOME-HOME PARTY TOOK PLACE AT MORTY’S apartment exactly one week later, when Coop was released from the DOPS special clinic. To his surprise, they’d actually done a pretty good job on him. Under his bandages they’d attached several extraterrestrial parasites to his shoulder. The parasites ate skin flakes and injected a carefully controlled combination of bone and muscle into his bullet wound. It was only creepy when he thought about it, so Coop went to great effort not to think about it. It wasn’t all that hard with so much going on.

  Morty had come through his first kidnapping with only a minor twitch whenever anyone stood behind him. He spent most of the party positioning himself with his back to hard surfaces—walls, doors, the refrigerator—anything where he had a clear view of the room and its exits.

  “How are you doing?” said Coop.

  “Coming along. Coming along,” said Morty. “Tell me, as someone who’s been kidnapped more than me, how long does it take to get over one of these things?”

  “I’ll let you know when I do.”

  “You’re useless,” said Morty, and he and Coop clinked their bottles of beer together.

  Giselle popped into sight with her own beer. “See? I told you my head’s back on straight. I can cloud minds with the best of them.”

  “You always could,” said Coop. He looked across the room and saw Sally and Tintin in an intense conversation. Over the last week, Coop had grown used to the idea that he’d taken the DOPS job and that it would keep him close to Giselle. Still, he was going to miss clandestine meetings with Sally and Tintin. Now when he planned a job they’d want him to fill out forms in triplicate. Not that that was ever going to happen.

  “I know how you feel,” said Giselle.

  “You reading my mind?” Coop said.

  “With you it isn’t that hard. You’ll get used to the straight life. I did. And not looking over your shoulder all the time isn’t such a bad feeling.”

  “I like being paranoid. It makes even the most boring things interesting. I was once convinced I was being followed by a whole Yakuza army while doing my laundry. It made the spin cycle fly by.”

  “Why the Yakuza?”

  “It’s a long story.”

  “I guess I’ll have to stick around if I want to hear it.”

  “Only if you want to hear it.”

  “I’ll think about it,” she said.

  There was a knock at the door. Morty opened it and Bayliss came in with a package wrapped in a bow. She walked over, kissed Coop on the cheek, and gave Giselle a big hug.

  “Looks like the promotion’s perked you up,” said Coop.

  “Yep. I officially got Nelson’s old job. And I got a new partner.”

  “Who’s that?”

  “Guess,” said a voice in Coop’s head.

  “Phil? They gave you Phil?” he said. “Who hates you that much?”

  “Hey, I resent that. Tell him,” Phil said.

  Bayliss nodded. “It’s not bad having a partner who can do his surveillance right in people’s minds. Plus, he doesn’t eat, so no more of Nelson’s ptomaine tacos.” She held out the package. “Which brings me to this. Consider it an early Christmas present. Open it.”

  Coop held up his injured shoulder. “I’m not sure I can yet.”

  “I’ll do it for you,” Bayliss said, even as Giselle and Morty said, “You big baby.” She untied the ribbon and took the top of the box off. Inside was a framed photo of a pale man in an ill-fitting suit that was clearly cut for someone else.

  “Who is that?” said Giselle. “He looks familiar.”

  “It’s Nelson,” said Coop.

  Bayliss nodded. “Say hello to the newest mailroom mook.”

  Coop took the picture out of the box and put it on Morty’s mantel. “I’ll cherish it always,” he said.

  The manta bats flashed by overhead, margarita glasses dangling from their slit mouths. One flew low and handed a drink to Bayliss before flying out the back door.

  “I’ve been so out of it these past few days, I never found out what you told Woolrich about the box,” he said.

  Bayliss sipped her margarita. “I told him that it broke when Salzman was killed. I got a few pieces of the fake box that broke when the angels were fighting.”

  “And Woolrich brought that story?”

  “I think he was just happy to have the box gone and not his responsibility anymore,” she said. “On the other hand, he hated paying for all the damages at Jinx Town.”

  “Boo-hoo,” said Coop. “If they w
ant the story covered up, they get to pay for it.”

  Giselle sipped her beer and said, “What no one can figure out is what happened to the big fish thing and the boar.”

  “That’s easy,” said Coop. “Go back and check out that dark-floor butcher shop. I guarantee you they’re still having specials on sushi and ribs.”

  “That’s a pretty picture. Thanks for putting that in my head,” said Phil.

  “You don’t have a head, Phil,” said Bayliss.

  “And thank you, boss, for that pep talk. I’m going now.”

  One of the DOPS tentacle twins waddled over and said, “Someone’s at the door for you, Coop.”

  “Thanks, Jimmy,” Coop said. He and Giselle went to see who it was. They left Bayliss chatting with a scientist whose head was a large ladybug in a bell jar.

  Coop wasn’t exactly shocked by what was waiting for him at the door. He was momentarily terrified of divine retribution, but then resigned himself to whatever fate waited for him.

  At the door was Qaphsiel, smiling, dressed in a tailored gray suit.

  “Look at you,” said Coop. “You look like you’re doing all right for yourself.”

  “It’s better than a green Windbreaker,” Qaphsiel said.

  “Are you here for any, uh, particular reason?” said Coop a little nervously. “I mean if you want to come in, there’s beer out back and the manta bats are mixing margaritas.”

  Qaphsiel shook his head. “No, thanks. I just thought that you might like to know that a certain box is back in Heaven, safe and sound.”

  “Really?” said Coop. “And what if someone gets a bug up their ass about destroying the world again?”

  “I said it was safe and sound,” said Qaphsiel. “I didn’t say where it was. In fact, no one knows where it is.” He shrugged. “Somehow it got misplaced.”

  “And it’s going to stay lost?”

  “We, that is Heaven, don’t own the world anymore. Which brings me to the other reason I came by. You don’t know where the deed went, do you? It wasn’t in Raphael’s pocket when we were called home.”

  Coop looked at Giselle and back at Qaphsiel. “I guess it got misplaced.”

  “Oh, well. These things happen,” said the angel. “Well, I’ll leave you to your friends. Have a nice party.”