“So that’s it, then,” said Mercury. “We’re screwed. Lucifer put the machine in place, and now Michelle is running it. There’s no stopping her from taking over the whole world and ruling it with an iron fist.”
“It doesn’t look good,” Perp agreed. “Most regimes built around the personality of a charismatic leader collapse when the leader dies. But with Michelle…”
“Yeah.” Mercury sighed heavily. “I wish there was something I could do about Suzy and Eddie, at least.”
“The terrorists who hang out with Chris Martin?”
“They don’t hang out with Chris Martin!” Mercury protested. “They’re friends of mine. They helped me get that bomb out of Grand Rapids. But they got captured, and now I don’t know where they are.”
“Well,” replied Perp. “I can tell you where they’re likely to end up. Possum Kingdom.”
“They’re going to end up in a Toadies song?”
“Possum Kingdom is a state park in Texas, about half an hour outside Dallas. A few years ago, a huge cave was discovered not far from the park. The authorities put fences up around the area, supposedly because the ground is unstable and could cave in. But a geologist from the University of Texas claimed that was a bunch of bunk. And then a hiker uploaded pictures of the fences they erected: thirty foot tall electrified chain-link fence topped with razor wire. There are two fences, about fifty feet apart—one with the razor wire facing out, and one with the razor wire facing in. Oh, and nobody knows what happened to the guy who took the pictures.”
“So what?” asked Mercury dubiously. “They’re running some kind of top secret underground prison?”
“Have you heard of Chaos Faction?”
“Yeah, they’re the ones the government is blaming for the bomb in Michigan.”
“Exactly. The government keeps trying to play up Chaos Faction as this big, bad terrorist organization, blaming them for every kidnapping in Baghdad or natural gas explosion in Pasadena. But I know for a fact that Tiamat and most of her minions were captured during an attempted attack on Fort Knox.”
“Wait, Tiamat is part of Chaos Faction?”
“Of course!” Perp exclaimed. “It’s her organization! She started it to cause problems for Michelle, to put a few speed bumps on the road to world domination. But Chaos Faction is a shell of its former self. All the key members, including Tiamat, have been captured. Which raises two key questions: first, who the hell is really running what’s left of Chaos Faction these days? And second, where the hell are Tiamat and her minions?”
“Well, we know the answer to number one,” said Mercury. “Michelle has co-opted the group for her own purposes.”
“And I’ll bet you anything Tiamat and her minions are in Possum Kingdom. And if your friends aren’t there yet, they soon will be. Along with Chris Martin and anybody else Michelle considers a threat.”
“Where do you hear all this stuff?” Mercury asked.
“You know me,” said Perp. “I find things out. But most of this stuff is available online. BitterAngels.net broke the story about Possum Kingdom last year, but none of the mainstream news organizations picked it up. I’m not sure if the news organizations are in Michelle’s pocket, or if they’re just incompetent and lazy. Either way, the information is out there, but hardly anybody seems to care.”
“Maybe they just don’t know what to do,” offered Mercury.
“Maybe,” said Perp. “But what’s the difference?”
Mercury nodded. It was true, as long as nobody stood up to Michelle, nothing was going to change. But what could anyone do? Mercury was an angel who had powers far surpassing those of an ordinary mortal, and he didn’t have a clue what to do. Not about Michelle’s plan for world domination, anyway. There was one thing he could do, though.
“So,” he said, “Let’s suppose you’re right about this Possum Kingdom place. How would you go about breaking someone out?”
Perp grinned at him. “Fools rush in where angels fear to tread,” he replied.
Chapter Thirty
Costa Rica; August 2016
The next day Mercury and Perp found themselves in the remote jungles of Costa Rica. Perp claimed to have a lead on an idea for breaking into Possum Kingdom, and Mercury, though dubious, had little choice but to go along.
“How do you even know where this place is?” asked Mercury, as they trudged through the jungle. Well, Mercury trudged, while Perp fluttered. They were on a sort of path, but it was fairly overgrown and occasionally Perp would make a slashing motion and a vine or branch would fall as if severed by an invisible machete.
“I told you,” said Perp. “I know things. Avoid eating bright red berries.”
“Nice to know you’re back to your old self,” replied Mercury. “Philosophical Perp was starting to get on my nerves.”
“I think it’s just ahead,” said Perp.
“OK,” said Mercury. “But for the record, I’d like to say that I don’t trust anyone who lives by himself in a remote cabin in the wilderness. It’s not normal. Also, those places smell terrible.”
“Agreed,” said Perp. “Nobody ever accused Balderhaz of being normal.”
Eventually they came upon the cabin, which turned out to be a mansion compared to Mercury’s now-obliterated hovel. The place was so well-camouflaged, though, that Mercury didn’t realized he was looking right at it until he was less than fifty feet away. It was a multi-leveled structure with an irregular, tiered roof that seemed intended to mimic the jungle from above. Knowing Balderhaz, the visual aspect was only one small part of the structure’s camouflage. He’d probably constructed the place with sound absorbing walls and heat signature dampeners, as well as some kind of device to hide any fluctuations in the interplanar energy levels that his work might cause. If Balderhaz didn’t want to be found, he was going to make damn sure he wasn’t found.
Which made it all the stranger that Perp seemed to know exactly where he was. Was this some sort of elaborate trap to lure Mercury into Michelle’s clutches? After all, Balderhaz had been working for Michelle up until not too long ago, when he disappeared. There were rumors that he had gone rogue and was hiding out somewhere on the Mundane Plane, but maybe that was just a cover story. Maybe he was still working for Michelle. Or, worse, Tiamat. Was Perp leading him into a trap?
Mercury paused, regarding the structure. No movement was visible inside. The place appeared deserted.
Perp stopped in mid-air when he realized Mercury wasn’t following. “What is it, Merc? Something wrong?”
“Nah,” said Mercury, and continued after Perp. If he couldn’t trust Perp, then he might as well pack it in.
Perp fluttered up to the door of the building. He knocked three times, paused, knocked twice more, paused again, and knocked six more times. “Secret knock,” he said.
Mercury nodded enthusiastically.
The door suddenly swung open, and a man with a long beard and long, dirty hair appeared. He wore nothing but a loincloth that appeared to have been constructed from a paisley necktie and Christmas-themed bath towels. “What are you doing out here?” he cried. “Get inside!”
Perp and Mercury hurried inside and the man slammed the door. The interior of the building appeared to be one big room, filled with tables and benches that were covered with vials, beakers, microscopes, stacks of paper, books, computers, various electronic components, and hundreds of other random items.
“What’s wrong?” asked Mercury.
“Why?” asked the man. “Didn’t you want to come inside?”
“Well, yeah,” replied Mercury. “But—”
“Then nothing’s wrong,” the man said. “Hi, Perp. Who’s Mr. Longshanks here?”
“His name is Mercury,” said Perp. “He’s a friend. Mercury, Balderhaz. Balderhaz, Mercury.”
“We have the same name, but backwards!” exclaimed Balderhaz, gripping Mercury in a hug.
“No, it’s not…” Mercury started, but when Perp cast him an anxious look, he drop
ped it. Balderhaz showed no signs of intending to let him go.
“It’s, um, nice to meet you as well,” said Mercury.
“It’s like meeting my twin brother for the first time,” said Balderhaz. Mercury felt something damp on his chest and realized that Balderhaz was weeping.
“Yeah, it’s pretty great,” said Mercury, patting Balderhaz on the back. “I’m familiar with some of your work. The Balderhaz Cube, that was some impressive stuff.”
“Get ahold of yourself, man!” said Balderhaz, pulling himself away from Mercury. “Uh-oh. Where’s Marcus Aurelius?” Balderhaz was scanning the interior of the building.
“Marcus Aurelius?” asked Perp. “The Roman Emperor?”
“No,” said Balderhaz. “Marcus Aurelius the white-headed capuchin monkey. He floats sometimes. Ah, there he is!”
Indeed, Mercury saw that about eight feet overhead, just below the peak of the vaulted ceiling, a capuchin monkey was floating. The monkey seemed mildly irritated but not really surprised, like someone who had just gotten a parking ticket for parking three feet too close to a hydrant.
“What are you doing up there, Marcus Aurelius?” demanded Balderhaz. He turned to Mercury. “It’s really not his fault, you know. I broke the laws of physics.”
“You did what?” asked Mercury.
“The laws of physics. I accidentally broke them a while back.”
“Isn’t that what we do whenever we perform miracles?” asked Mercury.
“Eh? No, no. We bend the laws of physics. They always snap back. Not this time, though. This time they’re broken.”
“But… you can fix them?”
“You can be assured that if anyone can, I can!” exclaimed Balderhaz.
Suddenly the monkey squealed and fell to the ground. It landed on all fours, shrieked at Mercury, and ran off.
“Does he just do that at random?” asked Perp.
“What, fall?” said Balderhaz. “No, the falling is perfectly ordered and natural. It’s the floating I can’t predict. What can I do for you boys?”
“We need to break someone out of Possum Kingdom,” said Perp.
“Possum Kingdom!” cried Balderhaz. “The Toadies song?”
“That’s what I said!” exclaimed Mercury.
“The secret underground prison,” said Perp.
“Oh!” said Balderhaz. “That’s good, because there’s no escaping that Toadies song. I’ve got just the thing.” Balderhaz dived under a table and began rooting through a cardboard box that appeared to be filled with Circus Peanuts. After a moment he produced something that looked like a hair dryer and handed it to Mercury.
“What is it?” asked Mercury.
“Anti-Balderhaz Field Gun. It temporarily cancels out the effects of a Balderhaz Cube within a limited range. I make them out of hair dryers. Try it.”
Mercury pointed the gun and pulled the trigger, releasing a blast of hot air.
“My mistake,” said Balderhaz. “That one’s still a hair dryer. But imagine, instead of hot air, a sort of invisible magic field being released!”
Mercury released the trigger and examined the device. “How does it work without being plugged in?”
Balderhaz frowned at him. “You just saw a floating monkey, and it’s the battery-powered hair dryer you’re having trouble with?” He went back to the box and found another device, which looked identical to the one Mercury was holding. “Here.”
Mercury took the gun and handed the hair dryer to Balderhaz. He pulled the trigger, but nothing happened.
“Aha!” cried Balderhaz. “See? I told you. Invisible magic field.”
“If you say so,” replied Mercury.
“We can’t really test it here, because I don’t have a Balderhaz Cube. Ironic, right? Everybody’s got one these days except old Balderhaz. But what it does is, it cancels out the effect of a Balderhaz Cube in a conical pattern, extending about fifty feet. It creates an anti-no-miracles zone, allowing you to manipulate interplanar energy even within a Balderhaz field. They’ve undoubtedly got a Balderhaz Cube in Possum Kingdom, to prevent the likes of you from doing what you’re planning on doing. But with this baby, you can perform all the miracles you like, as long as you’re standing more-or-less directly in front of the gun, and you’re between twenty-eight and fifty-two feet away.”
Mercury regarded the gun dubiously.
“You’re sure this one isn’t a hair dryer?” asked Mercury.
“Did it blow any air when you pulled the trigger?”
“No.”
“Then it’s not a hair dryer. Or the battery’s dead. But I’m pretty sure it’s not a hair dryer. Anymore. Uh-oh. Where’s Pliny the Elder?”
“Pliny the Elder the white-headed capuchin monkey?” Perp ventured.
“No, Pliny the Elder the albino boa constrictor.”
Chapter Thirty-one
Near Possum Kingdom State Park, west of Dallas, Texas; August 2016
Mercury and Perp approached the fence in near complete darkness. They had been mostly hidden by a few scraggly trees until they got within about fifty feet of the fence, but now they were completely in the open. They’d watched from the trees long enough to determine that there were two guards on duty, walking the perimeter of the fence at regular intervals. The outside fence was roughly square, about 300 yards on a side. Centered inside the fence was a small concrete building that presumably concealed the entrance to the cave. Next to the building was a thirty foot pole with an array of spotlights angled in several different directions, lighting up most of the yard inside the inner fence. The plan was to break through the fences, take out one of the lights, and then sprint to the building before they were seen.
“I don’t like this,” said Perp.
“What’s not to like about breaking into a secret underground prison in the middle of the night?” asked Mercury.
“I’m serious,” said Perp. “It’s too obvious. There’s no way they aren’t going to be ready for us, even if that hair dryer thing works. We have no idea who or what’s inside that building. What if Michelle’s got angels standing guard?”
“You think she’s got angels to spare?”
“To guard Tiamat and God-knows-how-many other demons? I think she could spare a few.”
“Ugh,” said Mercury. “Alright, back to the trees.”
They crept back under cover.
“So now what?” asked Mercury.
“Well, it’s a cave, right?” said Perp. “There have got to be other ways in.”
“I don’t know,” said Mercury. “They’ve got a pretty big area fenced in. What if the cave only extends inside that area?”
“Could be,” said Perp thoughtfully. “But I get the impression it’s a pretty big cave. There could be side tunnels that reach outside that area.”
“Alright, then,” replied Mercury. “How do we find one?”
Perp smiled. “Trial and error.”
“Ugh,” said Mercury again. “Sounds incredibly boring.”
It was incredibly boring. Worse than the Toadies’ second album, even. They walked along the edge of the Balderhaz field, occasionally attempting to levitate a small twig or pebble to gauge its strength. The boundary of the field lay some distance outside the outer fence, where the light from the spotlights didn’t reach. It was unlikely they’d be spotted in the moonless dark, but when a guard came within a hundred feet or so, they would lie down until the threat had passed.
Perp’s theory was that the fences were mostly for show, and that the real barrier to anyone trying to get in or out of the prison was the Balderhaz field. Well, that, and several hundred tons of sand and rock. When Perp saw what he identified as a “promising spot”—using criteria that were a complete enigma to Mercury—just inside the Balderhaz field, he would stand some thirty feet away from Mercury and aim the hair dryer at Mercury while Mercury harnessed interplanar energy to drill a small hole in the ground. The idea was that if the cave extended underneath them, eventually he would reach
an air pocket and he would feel a sudden decrease in resistance.
It seemed like a good idea in theory, but Mercury wasn’t cut out for what he called “mind-numbing manual labor.”
“Can’t we just storm the building?” he whined. “This is literally the worst job I’ve ever had. And I had to sit and watch Job scrape his boils with pot sherds for six weeks.”
“Focus, Merc!” snapped Perp. “If we want to get your terrorist friends out of prison, this is how we’re going to do it. I never promised it was going to be exciting. It is, after all, boring work.”
“If you make that joke one more time,” said Mercury, “I’m going to pull your wings off.”
“To get rid of garbage disposal odors,” Perp retorted, “drop in a cut-up lemon, some salt and a few ice cubes.”
“Super helpful,” grumbled Mercury.
Finally, when Mercury had burrowed almost twenty feet down on his sixteenth hole, he felt something give.
“Hey!” he exclaimed. “I think I’ve got something!”
“Shh!” whispered Perp, pointing to a guard heading their direction. The two huddled on the ground, not moving, while the guard strolled by, waving his flashlight lazily around in front of him.
“OK, dig it out,” said Perp.
Mercury harnessed as much interplanar energy as he could to weaken the bonds of the rock, turning it to sand and levitating it out of the way, while Perp kept the hair dryer trained on him. Mercury was making the hole just big enough for them to climb through, but as he got ten feet or so down, it was all he could do to keep the sand moving.
“Are you sure that thing is working?” he whispered to Perp.
“If it wasn’t working, you wouldn’t be able to move the rock at all,” answered Perp. “You’re probably getting closer to the Balderhaz Cube. Most likely they’ve got it underground, somewhere near the center of the cave.”
Mercury grunted in response. He was sweating from the effort of breaking up the rock.
Mercury Revolts: (Book Four of the Mercury Series) Page 18