by Jaxon Reed
The man stood at a decent height, but he was not muscle-bound. He had what might be considered an average appearance in most of the European nations throughout the multiverse.
In fact, Darius Booker considered himself American. He hailed from Chicago, and he was recently murdered by Al Capone back in his home alternate.
When he was alive, he wore glasses and served as an accountant for Capone’s Outfit on his alternate.
His resurrected body needed no glasses, and with extraordinarily advanced technology representing thousands of years of human advancement, he could alter his appearance at will on the molecular level.
But already he felt comfortable enough with his new body that he did not bother altering it.
Besides, this was how Tiff knew him. When he found her, he wanted to look like somebody she remembered.
The young woman was called Niko. She was Japanese, and had passed away in the late 19th century on her alternate. In more ways than one, she was older than Booker.
While the spiritual battles were waged between fallen angels, humans and holy angels on the first world, the fae abandoned O-Earth early.
Sensing the ultimate defeat of evil on the first plane of existence, they sought to spread it throughout the multiverse. Likewise, they fought to prolong their existence before facing judgment. Long after Armageddon and Judgment Day on O-Earth, the fae continued wandering the alternates, sewing evil and chaos in their wake.
Jason Walker was tasked by the Archangel Michael with stopping them. He set up a headquarters outside time and space and recruited hunters from across the alternates to seek and kill the fae in whatever reality they infested.
Niko was currently ranked third in the Fae Killers’ hierarchy in terms of number of kills. Consequently, she was well known and very much hated by the enemy.
Niko placed the bag down on shin-high green grass and opened it, swirls of mist coalescing around her.
“Here,” she said handing Booker an iron dagger. “I’ve got other stuff too, if we need it. Let me plant a sensor for Cait.”
Booker added the dagger to his own personal inventory of iron weapons while Niko pulled out something that looked like a small rock. She placed it on the ground as the doorway to Headquarters winked shut behind her.
Niko said, “Everything good, Cait?”
The computer’s voice came back in her head, and in Booker’s also.
“Yes. Ideally, I need one sensor per continent. But, at least one more on the other side of the globe will do for now.”
“We’ll get it,” Niko said.
She hoisted the bag back over her shoulder and smiled up at Booker.
“It will take less energy for Cait if we make our own way around. Lead on, McDuff!”
Booker grimaced. He said, “I’m not that good at this flying thing. But, I’ll try.”
Niko laughed and said, “Cait, make us invisible so no one can see how clumsy Darius is.”
Instantly, both Niko and Booker disappeared from sight.
He could make out a faint outline of the petite woman standing nearby, but he knew they were completely invisible to anyone else.
He had a flashback to when he first met Tiff, when she accompanied him to work each day invisibly.
“I don’t think anybody can see us in this fog, anyway,” he muttered, pulling himself back into the present.
He saw the transparent image of Niko smile at him.
Booker took a deep breath, concentrated, then slowly floated up into the mist-filled air.
-+-
The intercom on Ezekiel Oldman’s desk buzzed.
His office was well apportioned. The desk Oldman sat at was a metal monstrosity with an expensive leather top, made in America by the Midwest Metallic and Manufactory Co. of Kansas City, Missouri.
A solid wood office chair, built to last practically forever no matter how long it remained in use, held an older man bent over a ledger and various piles of paper scattered on the desktop.
The chair was made by the Arboreal Seating Co., of Kansas City, Kansas. The two furniture companies remained crosstown and intrastate rivals.
Oldman frowned at the intercom, as if he could transmit the frown electronically to his secretary.
He was in his 60s, with gray hair and a widening bald spot on the back of his head.
His suit was dark blue, and expensive. He purchased it on a business trip to Chicago last summer, in fact. The calendar on the wall behind him read August, 1933.
The device buzzed again.
Annoyed, he pressed the intercom’s button and said, “Anna, I asked not to be disturbed.”
“I know, Mr. Oldman. But you have a visitor and he is insistent on seeing you. He won’t go away, and he won’t take ‘no’ for an answer.”
Oldman sighed. Anna was far too nice. She had worked tirelessly as his secretary for 21 years. He was godfather to her children, and he attended the weddings, funerals and other social events of her family while she did the same for his. He played golf with her husband. Everybody traded gifts at birthdays and Christmas.
But she was really far too nice with visitors. And he could never fuss at her about it since her feelings were made of glass. They shattered easily.
So he stifled his annoyance instead of biting her head off when he pressed the button again. His voice nonetheless held a strained note of mild irritation. That would be enough to convey to her, and hopefully the visitor, that he was not pleased.
“Send them in, then.”
The entrance to Oldman’s office consisted of two oak doors, intricately carved by hand to show a pastoral scene depicting a western ranch. It reminded Ezekiel of home.
The second door stayed shut most all the time, so the expense for the custom work could have been halved. But when Oldman commissioned the doors, when this office was new, the Roaring Twenties were in full swing and there was money to spare for such luxuries in the world of banking.
And Ezekiel Oldman had done very well in the financial realm. This bank, of which he remained President, was the largest in terms of assets in the entire state.
Nonetheless, he sometimes thought that a single door would have been adequate, since the other one was never used for anything.
Well, come to think of it . . . he did open the second door when this giant desk was delivered.
In the middle of his thoughts, a dead man walked into his office.
Jason Walker smiled at him.
“Hello, Zeke.”
Oldman’s mouth dropped open in astonishment.
Jason looked just as Oldman remembered him years ago, when he first showed up one night at the ranch killing zombies.
As if fighting zombies weren’t enough, Jason and Oldman’s older brother followed a tear in reality and brought a group of Indian warriors to battle Germans in London on an alternate world.
Jason stayed with their mother, recently widowed, remaining with her until she passed away. Oldman had not seen his stepfather in almost 20 years.
“What . . . Jason . . . you’re . . . you’re . . .”
The obviously young and no longer aged version of Jason Walker chuckled.
He said, “Dead? No, of course not. I explained to you and your brother years ago who I am. Or, have you forgotten? I am the Walker. I walk among the alternates.”
The buzzer sounded again and Anna’s electronic voice came over the speaker.
“Mr. Oldman, you have a call on—”
“Hold my calls, Anna. And, no visitors!”
He punched the button in annoyance.
Jason smiled and said, “She’s nice.”
“Too nice,” Oldman grumbled.
He leaned back in his wooden chair and frowned at the man before him.
“Jason, I haven’t seen you since Mom died in ’14. You literally rode off into the sunset, never to be seen nor heard from again.”
He looked older then, too. At the funeral, he looked the same age as the boys’ mother. But Ezekiel did not menti
on that. He knew that Jason was . . . immortal. The aging was to make everyone around him comfortable. And it avoided awkward questions by those who did now know who he was.
Come to think of it, Oldman thought, his aging like that probably made Mom comfortable, too.
The Walker said, “That’s right. I said my goodbyes to you and Eli both, back then. And your families. But, I wanted to pay you a final visit. There’s some important things happening in your world soon, and I thought you might like to know about them ahead of time. At least enough to keep you and this bank you’ve built out of trouble.”
Oldman’s nerves tingled with excitement. Before he “died,” or left or whatever, Jason explained to the boys the causes of the Great War and how the United States would be dragged into it. He had been correct, of course, and everything played out exactly as Jason predicted.
Oldman waited with expectation to hear what the Walker had to say now.
Jason said, “On every alternate like this one, just about, we see the same pattern play out. Germany suffers punitive damage after an initial world war, then gets taken over by a dictator and begins surreptitiously rearming for another round.
“But before that, before the U.S. gets involved again, this country and others go through the worst economic depression ever seen to this point. The timing is slightly different on every alternate. And this world is overdue.”
Oldman sighed deeply as the repercussions of what Jason was saying hit home.
He said, “And things were going so well.”
“Too well. If you have any stocks, Zeke, now is the time to sell. Sell them even if they’re at record highs and you think they’re going higher. The entire market will collapse soon. It’ll take months, but Wall Street will hit record lows and stay there for a long time. If you’re sitting on cash, you might be able to scoop up some bargains after the fall, but many businesses will go belly up, so be careful.
“Know that many financial institutions won’t survive either. There will be runs on local branches as depositors withdraw all their funds in a single day. If you want this bank to survive, you need to be in the best position possible before the crash.
“Finally, if you have any loans outstanding, any debt at all, pay them off if you can. I know Eli and his family are running the ranch. Let him know this is coming, too. Make sure he doesn’t have a mortgage on the ranch. A lot of people are going to lose everything.”
Oldman mentally made notes about what the Walker said.
Out loud he said, “How long will this go on?”
“The Great Depression does not end until World War Two, I’m afraid. You’re looking at ten or more years of trouble ahead. Already, a dictator has taken over Germany.”
Oldman nodded. He said, “Hitler. Henry Ford likes him. So does Charles Lindbergh.”
“They’ll change their tune soon enough.”
The two talked for another hour. After the momentous news of impending calamity had sunk in, Oldman asked the Walker several more questions. Once his curiosity was satisfied they reminisced about the old days, of Ezekiel and his brother growing up on the ranch out west.
At last, the Walker stood up to go.
“Tell Eli I said hello.”
“He is going to be so jealous he missed you.”
The Walker shrugged. He said, “Well, he got to go fight Nazis decades before they sprang into existence here. Remind him of that if he complains.”
Jason reached across the desk and gripped Oldman’s hand.
Ezekiel said, “Are we going to see you again? Are you going to keep an eye on us and our children down through the years?”
“No. I just came back to this one instance before leaving this alternate for good. Fae influence has waned here, and I don’t expect to return unless I have to. I’ve got other places to be.”
Oldman looked crestfallen.
Jason said, “You and your descendants will do fine. Keep the faith. Remember, the only way into heaven is through Jesus. Pass that along to your kids and grandkids, and you’ll all see one another again in the afterlife.”
He squeezed Oldman’s hand again then he departed with a final smile, walking out the ornate door.
“Wait! Jason!”
Oldman ran around the desk and opened the door, looking in both directions.
Anna stared back at him from her reception desk.
He said, “Where’d he go?”
“Where’d who go?”
“The man who was in my office, who just left!”
“Oh. I didn’t see him leave. Are you all right? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”
Oldman took a deep breath, held it, then let it out in a rush.
“Call the board members, Anna. We’ve got to hold an emergency meeting as soon as possible. There’s a storm brewing, and I want to be on top of it.”
-+-
Everything, Booker realized, was covered in mist. No matter how far they flew, fog was everywhere, blanketing the land.
In desperation, he headed straight up. He rose higher and higher, Niko following.
At last, on the outer edge of the atmosphere, he looked at the globe splayed out before him. Cait automatically surrounded the pair with a sphere of warm air so they could breathe at this altitude.
Booker said, “The whole world is covered in fog!”
Niko nodded and said, “This is the primordial mist. It won’t go away until a comet hits. That leads to the Flood, and atmospheric changes. The impact puts a tilt on the axis too, if I remember correctly.”
“Wow. I’ve never seen it. Now that you mention it, though, I guess I’ve read about the primordial mist before. Well, I think it stinks. You can’t see anything.”
They looked down on the cloud-shrouded world in silence for a moment.
Booker said, “So, what are we doing about sensors again?”
“Let’s plant at least one more.”
Booker nodded, and they started back down toward the planet’s surface. They flew fast for a while, letting the world rotate below them so they would land roughly on the other side of the globe.
Soon they were surrounded by mist again as they dropped back down toward the surface.
“This really reduces visibility,” Booker grumbled.
“Don’t worry about it,” Niko said. “We’re somewhere above Europe at the moment. Or, what’s probably going to become Europe in this alternate’s future.”
They dropped closer to the ground and could only see a few miles in all directions.
“Look at that,” Niko said, pointing.
As the mist cleared, they saw two groups of large men with spears racing toward each other and screaming. They collided with force, sharp flint points clacking on wood and thunking into flesh. Screams of hate and pain filled the foggy air.
“Those guys are huge,” Booker said, awestruck at the primitive violence below.
“The Nephilim,” Niko said. “Giants of old, both before and after the Flood.”
They watched as both sides battled it out, stone knives now appearing in the hands of some as they closed the ground with vicious slashes, drawing blood. The wounded were not spared either, with quick jabs to the throat putting them out of their misery.
“Should we take a side?” Booker said, a touch of awe in his voice.
Niko said, “Nah. Besides, they’re all going to be wiped out when that comet hits.”
Booker looked at her, startled.
He said, “I hadn’t thought about that. So everybody down there dies?”
“Come on, Darius. You know the story of Noah and the ark. His three sons are the fathers of the three races in human history after the Flood. It’s the same on virtually every alternate.”
“Right, right. Yeah, I know the story.”
“Let’s go down over there, away from the fighting. That looks like as good a place as any.”
They alighted in an empty field. Niko pulled out another sensor and dropped it on the ground.
�
�Let us know if you see anything on this world, Cait.”
Cait’s voice came back to both their implants.
“Will do, Niko.”
“Okay. Open a door, and we’ll go to the next one.”
A horizontal slit appeared in the air and they walked through it, remaining invisible.
The slit closed, winking out of sight.
For several minutes, nothing happened in the field or in the trees surrounding it.
Then, an eye appeared, hovering in the air. It was big, and black, staring where the slit had made its brief appearance.
No one saw the eye floating in the air, certainly not the Nephilim fighting some distance away.
After a moment, the eye closed. Then it disappeared, too.
2
Pierre looked at Rick with an odd expression on his face.
Both could hardly see one another in the gloom. It was a moonless night on the French Atlantic coast, and the men were in Lorient, near the water.
They both wore black frog suits, although Pierre had no intention of getting into the water. He was just along to carry supplies.
Rick pulled a metal tank over his back and strapped on a mask with hoses stretching back.
“This is an underwater breathing apparatus,” he said to Pierre in French.
“Ah, oui,” Pierre said. “A Frenchman has invented such a device. Jacques Cousteau.”
Rick nodded. “Yes, the Aqualung. But this one is different. It was modified by OSS to be recirculating, so there are no bubbles rising to the surface.”
Pierre’s eyes widened as he grasped the implications.
He said, “So the watchmen looking over the water, they will never see you coming.”
“Precisely. And, that’s a Texas innovation.”
Pierre smiled in the dim light. They had traded friendly barbs about the question of superiority between their two countries for months now.
Rick was technically an American, but since the United States did not exist on this alternate, he encouraged Pierre’s belief that he and Nancy Chance were from Texas.
All the roles the US played in his home world were carried out by the country of Texas in this alternate. It stretched west of the Mississippi to the California coast. It also took out a larger chunk of Mexico’s traditional territory, including the Baja Peninsula.