Ballistic Kiss

by Richard Kadrey

  Vidocq is mummified in layers of silk and cotton sheets. I lay him out flat with his head angled facing the wild expanse of stars in the dark northern sky.

  For a few minutes we all stand around looking at each other and the dark outlines of nearby mountains and cliffs. Up here, it’s cooler than in the city this time of night, and a light wind blows down from the higher peaks.

  Allegra gives me one of Vidocq’s old books. It’s small. One of those travel books the rich used to haul all over Europe a couple of hundred years ago. Get a case of these books, and you’d have all of the world’s knowledge at your fingertips. I like this little book because I know Vidocq well enough to be certain that he stole a whole set from some rich French prick touring the continent who would never miss the thing. I can’t read a word of French, but Allegra tells me that it’s a history of Egypt, including one of the first collections of their mythology. Vidocq loved the hand-colored illustrations most of all. They reminded him of his youth, when he was a simple thief and not a doomed-to-live-forever mad scientist. I hold on to the book with both hands as I start talking, like if I don’t it’s going to run away like a jackrabbit.

  “Vidocq always said that he didn’t like being two hundred years old, but I think he was lying. After all those years, a lot of them running from the law, I think he liked where he ended up. Here. With us. He got me through a lot of bad times, before I went Downtown and after. He knew everything about me, but now that he’s gone I don’t think I ever knew enough about him. I never thought I was smart enough to understand his alchemical work, so I never tried to. Now I know I didn’t have to be smart. He was smart. If I’d asked him more he could have explained it so I’d understand. I feel shitty that I never thought of that until now. I took him for granted. He was always going to be here. Way after I was gone. Now I can’t tell him I’m sorry. He was a smart guy. A good one too. I always said that I never had a father. But that wasn’t entirely true. Goodbye, old man. I’m going to miss you like crazy.”

  I put the book in my pocket and step away from his body. On one side, Janet takes my hand. On the other, Candy loops her arm in mine. Good thing. Looking at Vidocq lying there, I get that disembodied feeling again, like maybe if someone wasn’t holding me I’d blow away on the breeze.

  Allegra puts a rose and a piece of blue amber on Vidocq’s body before saying anything. Her voice cracks the first time she tries to speak, but then she gets it under control.

  “Vidocq was my love. We had our problems, but we’d worked them out. You know, I was this close to moving back in with him. I knew it was going to happen, but I was waiting for the right moment. Now that’s never going to happen. Don’t make the same mistake I made. Whatever you love, whoever you love, hold on to them tight. The world doesn’t need more proud or stubborn people. We have enough of those already. Hang on to everyone around you. They’re all that matter. As for Vidocq, I’m not going to say goodbye. Just good night. I’ll find you in Hell or Heaven, my love.”

  She stops and nods, a few tears running down her face.

  “Yeah. I’ll find him.”

  When she’s done, she comes over to me and says, “Do it.”

  I look at her, lit up under a billion little points of light.

  “Don’t you want to?”

  She blinks a couple of times and wipes her eyes.

  “Don’t fuck around, man. Just burn him.”

  But I pull her back to Vidocq’s body.

  “Remember when we first met and I told you about magic? I taught you how to make fire dance across your fingers.”

  She opens and closes her hands.

  “I haven’t tried that in a long time. You think I can still do it?”

  “I guarantee.”

  “Okay. Let’s do it together.”

  “Yeah.”

  She puts her hands on the white layers of cloth.

  “One . . . two . . . three.”

  Flames spring from our hands and move across the sheets. They catch quickly and in a few seconds Vidocq’s body is burning, a ball of orange radiance against the stark peaks. A crow circles around us a few times, then is joined by a second one. After a few passes, they take off together and we disappear into the dark. Just a couple of dumb birds or a psychopomp coming to take the old man away? I’ll have to ask him one day when we’re all back together again.

  We stay with the pyre under the stars until dawn, then let the morning winds carry Vidocq’s ashes away. When it’s done, we go back down the mountain and I drive everyone home to rest for a while, because the day isn’t over yet.

  When I get to Bamboo House of Dolls around noon there’s a big sign out front:

  PRIVATE PARTY. CLOSED UNTIL 2.

  Fuck Hollywood is outside in my torn-up coat that I gave her. She stares at the sign all agitated, like a cat that found the kitty door into the house locked.

  I say, “What are you doing here?”

  She looks surprised when she sees me.

  “I heard that Carlos is looking for a bar back. I was going to ask him for the job, but I guess I should come back later.”

  “Maybe not. Come with me.”

  It’s strange going inside at this time of day, with no crowd and the jukebox quiet. Carlos is behind the bar and Ray is blowing up a few last balloons. There’s sparkly “Happy Birthday” bunting up over the bar.

  When he sees me, Carlos says, “The party store was out of wedding decorations, but I think this is still goddamn festive.”

  There are flowers, a cake, and paper plates on a nearby table.

  I look at them both.

  “It looks great.”

  With a hand on her shoulder, I say, “Carlos, this is Fuck Hollywood. You should give her a job.”

  He looks her over for a moment.

  “You have bar experience?”

  She shakes her head.

  “No.”

  “Do you know how to mix cocktails?”

  “Jack and Coke.”

  “Do you have any experience at all in the beverage or service industry?”

  “I used to dance and serve drinks at the Big Red Rocket in Glendale.”

  “Did you bother Stark here the other night?”

  Fuck Hollywood gives me a slightly panicked look.

  I say, “Would I have given her my coat if she did?”

  Carlos motions to her to come over.

  “Let me see your hands.”

  She holds them up.

  “They’re little,” he says. “And too pretty. Cleaning glasses all night is going to fuck them up. You’re going to need to moisturize and take better care of them.”

  Her eyes widen.

  “Does that mean I get the job?”

  “Provisionally.”

  Fuck Hollywood jumps up and down a little in my oversize coat.

  “Thank you. Thank you.”

  She grabs me in a hug, then abruptly lets go.

  She says, “Sorry. That’s probably inappropriate workplace behavior.”

  “Not today,” I tell her.

  Soon, the others begin to arrive.

  Candy and Alessa bring Allegra and Brigitte. She’s a knockout in a shiny black cocktail dress. Everyone is goofy, smiling and hugging each other. I try to stay out of range but get caught by a few cruise missiles of happiness.

  Janet arrives a few minutes after that in a dark blue tailored men’s three-piece suit, complete with pocket square. They, too, look amazing.

  After a few drinks, Ray takes Janet and Brigitte to the center of the room, where the chairs have been cleared out. The rest of us gather around them.

  Ray says, “Welcome, everybody. I know that the day started off on a somber note, but I hope it can end on a joyous and legally binding one.”

  He takes Janet and Brigitte’s hands in his.

  “Do you, Janet Peterson, take Jaroslava Schallerová to be your lawful spouse, to learn all about her so you can answer stupid questions, and to go to USCIS meetings with her until the federal
government pulls its head out of its ass?”

  “I do,” says Janet.

  Jaroslava Schallerová. I’ve never heard Brigitte’s real name before. I sort of forgot she had one. Too late for her. She’ll always be Brigitte Bardo, ace killer, to me.

  Ray says, “And do you, Jaroslava Schallerová, take Janet Peterson to be your lawful spouse until it’s safe for you to stay here with us without harassment, and we find the stupid bastard who narced on you and kick his ass?”

  “I do,” says Brigitte.

  He puts Janet and Brigitte’s hands together and says, “By the power vested in me by the St. Dagon United Internet Church and the state of California, I now pronounce you married.”

  Janet and Brigitte kiss. Candy and Alessa throw confetti at them.

  When all that nonsense is over, Ray puts the marriage license on the bar. Allegra signs as one of the witnesses, then everybody looks at me.

  I crook a finger at Fuck Hollywood.

  “Are you a felon or anything?”

  “No.”

  “Can you write?”

  “Yeah,” she says sarcastically.

  “Then here’s your first job. Be a witness.”

  She grabs the pen and signs.

  “Cool. I’ve never done this before.”

  Carlos says, “Welcome to Bamboo House of Dolls, girlie. Stick around here and you’ll end up doing lots weirder things than that before it’s over.”

  I bark a little Hellion and hoodoo up a knife that I give to Fuck Hollywood.

  “Whoa,” she says.

  “Here’s your second job. You can cut the cake and serve it.”

  But I don’t think she hears me. She just turns the gleaming white knife over in her hands.

  “What kind of knife is this?”

  “It’s a chip from the chicken legs that hold up Baba Yaga’s house. A good-luck charm. Keep it if you want. Just don’t tell Baba Yaga you got it from me.”

  She looks at me with great intensity.

  “That’s. So. Metal.”

  We drink and eat for another hour before Carlos has Fuck Hollywood take the sign down to let in the afternoon crowd. They devour the last of the cake and buy Janet and Brigitte drinks for hours.

  Vidocq would have loved it.

  I get back to the flying saucer house around ten. The others are still partying, but after all that’s happened I need a break. I take a PTSD pill and put on some coffee in the kitchen.

  When I go into the living room Samantha is waiting for me. She’s perched on the back of the sofa with her wings wrapped around her like a giant bird of prey. She’s wearing Thivierge’s emerald earrings and still looking like she’s not a day over twenty-five. So, she’s not a Drifter.

  She’s Samael’s lost angel.

  “Hello, Zadkiel.”

  She says, “Hello, Abomination.”

  I lean against the wall.

  “Save that ‘Abomination’ crap for someone who cares. You look ridiculous like that.”

  “You really are as thick as they say. A big mouth and no sense of the inevitable.”

  “Which is what exactly?”

  She raises her head in the annoying imperious way angels do.

  “Your death and obliteration from the universe.”

  I wave a hand at her.

  “Please. I hear that every time I get day-old pork buns from the Lucky Phoenix.”

  Her voice turns sad.

  “You sent Chris away.”

  “It was that or kill him for good. I didn’t get the feeling that’s what you wanted.”

  “No. I didn’t. I suppose I owe you that much.”

  “You know what bugs me? It’s not that you’re wearing those earrings or that you’re here to kill me. It’s that I should have figured all this out days ago.”

  “What should you have figured out?”

  I point at her.

  “You were so good at covering your tracks for forty years that you got sloppy. You said something to me that very first time we met. It’s been sitting in the back of my head ever since.”

  “Please tell me. What was it?”

  “The story you told about Brendan Mullen talking to you at the Masque. The club closed in ’78. If you’d been there back then you’d be in your sixties. But it didn’t all come together until I saw your photo.”

  “So, Danny Gentry, Avani Chanchala, and Lisa Thivierge all died because of you.”

  “Because of you actually, but maybe if I was smarter I could have done something to stop you sooner.”

  “But you weren’t. So, you didn’t.”

  I look at her, trying to find some trace of the thing that once loved Chris Stein.

  “What was in the rest of the note you sent Stein? The ‘forever yours, forever mine’ one.”

  She blinks once.

  “That’s private.”

  “You really loved him, didn’t you?”

  “Do you doubt it?”

  “No. Not since I figured out what exactly happened between you and Chris. The last thing he said to me in Little Cairo was ‘Heaven.’ Lisa Thivierge told me his secret love wanted something from him he didn’t want or couldn’t give. You wanted him to die, didn’t you? You’re the Opener of the Ways. You told him you could get him into Heaven and you could be together forever. But he wasn’t ready to go. You lost your temper and killed him anyway. You sent him straight to Hell, where he’s been looking for you ever since.”

  She gets that haughty look again.

  “You really think you’re so much better than me, Abomination?”

  “Yeah, I do. People can do all kinds of fucked-up things for love. I get that. But what you did . . . What happened to twist you up so much?”

  “Nothing. I’m proud of what I was and what I am.”

  I take out one of my few remaining Maledictions and light it. I figure I can at least bother her with its Hellion goodness. After a couple of puffs she coughs. It’s delightful.

  “Come on. Mr. Muninn made you Opener of the Ways, but you ran off to watch Behind the Green Door for the next few decades. That’s a little pathological.”

  She looks away like she’s remembering something.

  “That was Chris. He loved going to the movies.”

  “That’s not what Thivierge said. She said that you were the wild one.”

  She looks serious.

  “Chris’s views on what was fun and what was possible were limited. I expanded his horizons.”

  “You taught him to steal. He could get through any lock. That’s something else I should have picked up on, Opener.”

  “I guess you’re not very good at your job.”

  “You’re weren’t my job. You’re just trash a friend asked me to clean up for him. Like, I was just trying to save one poor slob and there you were, trying to gut Janet like a catfish.”

  She smiles slyly. “Admit it. She’s not Sub Rosa. She’s not an Abomination like you. She’s just your plaything.”

  I tick things off on my fingers.

  “First off, you’re wrong. Second, Janet’s pronouns are ‘they’ and ‘them.’ You’re an angel. You ought to pick up on these things.”

  She ignores that.

  “All of your other friends are special in some way. Poor Janet is utterly, banally human. How could you possibly care for the creature?”

  I look at Zadkiel hard.

  “Since we’re at a Dear Abby moment about relationships, I have a question for you. Were you going to do to Manimal Mike what you did to Chris? Get him to love you and then, when he finally figured out what a lunatic you are, cut him in half with your Gladius?”

  “Mike is nice. But he’s not Chris. I doubt I would have cut him. You, on the other hand—”

  “You’re welcome to try.”

  She gets down from the sofa and takes a couple of steps in my direction.

  “I don’t want to fight you, Abomination. Rather, I have a proposition for you.”

  “Oh good. I love making
deals with crazy people.”

  “I’ll leave Los Angeles. And if you agree to not hunt for me, I’ll give you something you’ve always wanted.”

  “An Aqua Regia hot tub?”

  “Your old life back.”

  Zadkiel holds up something small and shiny.

  “Recognize this? It’s an asphodel seed. Polished and cared for. Turned into a potent charm by Heaven’s most powerful builders. It can give you anything you want.”

  “I guess you haven’t heard of Amazon. They’ll even bring me socks.”

  “Can they give you your old life? Can they give you Alice back? Think of it. Just swallow the seed and your fondest wish will come true. You can be back with your first love. You can escape Hell and all the misery it’s brought you. You can be human again.”

  I’m not sure how far I can trust crazy pants here, but for a moment the deal is tempting. But not enough, because it’s based on a lie.

  “Here’s the problem. I’m not human. I’m exactly who I’m supposed to be and I’m not interested in your deal.”

  She smiles and holds up a finger.

  “You say that with your voice, but I can see into the greedy human part of you. I’ll just place the seed on this table for when you change your mind.”

  She sets it on the coffee table.

  “I’ll admit it. The thought is tempting. A few years ago, I’d have jumped all over a deal like that. But not now. Keep your charm.”

  Zadkiel seems to consider this for a moment.

  She says, “I have one more offer. Something I know you’ll have to agree to: I’ll open the gates of Heaven. Think of it. All the damned souls you care so much about finally free to make their way into Heaven and bask in the glory and love of God, the Father. I know it’s what Samael wants.”

  “And all I have to do is let you walk away like none of this ever happened?”

  “Yes. Make a wise choice, Abomination. A billion souls are in your hands.”

  “If I say yes, how do I know you’ll do it?”

  “The oath of an angel is binding.”