Archangel Protocol

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Archangel Protocol Page 14

by Lyda Morehouse


  He offered me a white lily. The sheen of dew sparkled deep in its alabaster throat.

  "Remember me. Some things done in the name of love have a bitter edge, Deidre."

  I looked up to see the face of Morningstar superimposed over Michael's smiling face. I looked down to find the lily in my hands. I didn't remember taking it. A blast of wind fluttered through my blue robes. I looked up to see a wheel of six wings spinning through the air. It was monstrous. The apparition seemed to stare at me with Michael's eyes. URGENT MESSAGE. The sunshine disappeared behind a dark thundercloud. Lightning flashed. I saw a silhouette of an enormous wing across the office wall. URGENT MESSAGE. Locusts plagued the Nile Valley. A red mark turned avenging angels away from the door. Michael's voice echoed, "I am the archangel Michael."

  URGENT MESSAGE. I woke up with a start. Running my fingers through my tangled hair, I yawned. The afternoon sun was hazy. Fishing for my blouse, I found Michael's tee shirt instead. I let my fingers caress the edges of a small rip in the material fondly with the memory of our lovemaking. URGENT MESSAGE. Pulling the shirt over my head, I mentally triggered the go-ahead switch.

  Mouse was sitting in an Egyptian cafe. The setting sun bathed the whitewashed walls in a pinkish glow. The place was filled with smoke and conversation. Mouse's usually pleasant face was twisted into a scowling frown.

  Well, good afternoon, I said, even though I knew it was late in the evening Cairo time. I wiped the sleep from my eyes, and stifled another yawn.

  Cut the crap, Dee, he said. You're holding out on me.

  Reducing his image to a small window, I mentally placed it in the right corner of my vision. I shifted part of my concentration to finding my underwear. I don't know what you're talking about, Mouse.

  I'm not saying I'm not impressed, but I'm dying to know who've you got doing your hack work. You boosted Daniel from jail, right? Very clever. He smiled. The expression was eerie on the page; it was almost too realistic. I swear I saw a cold fire behind Mouse's eyes. Maybe I wasn't talking to the page after all, but the real McCoy.

  Mouse, is that you?

  What? Of course it's me. After all this excitement, I've given you your own dedicated line, girlfriend. My page is out of the loop. Anyway, he's got plenty to do running mousenet. Now tell me – where are you hiding Danny boy? When you see him, tell him his sig file is all over this latest. Hot.

  I missed something in the translation, Mouse. What are you talking about?

  Well, someone must've sprung Danny out of the old loony bin. Who else could pull off a stunt like this?

  I stopped my search and sat down hard on the cool wooden floor. My heart was racing. I had to struggle to keep my voice subvocal. Daniel escaped?

  Cute, but innocence never played very well on you, girl. Who else could it be? Mouse shook his head, tipping his teacup in my direction in a salute. If it wasn't you, tell me who browned out New York?

  You did. Even my electronic voice sounded unsure, as I asked, Didn't you?

  Fifty-three cases of severe cybernetic trauma, you think I did that? He jabbed his thumb at his chest to emphasize his point.

  Fifty-three cases ... I repeated, shell-shocked.

  Traffic control blown, he ticked off the offenses on his fingers – brownouts in seven precincts, including backup generator failure across the board; FBI headquarters in DC hacked, seventeen local bureaus down; and New Jersey State Penitentiary blacked out. He waved his hands in exasperation. Ah, the brotherhood of police... I never counted on Daniel still having loyal friends after all this time. I suppose you had someone in the prison system, maybe the warden, and then there was your grand escape. I was sure you were tapped out of friends on the force. Mouse lifted the teacup to his mouth distractedly. A deep frown slashed his boyish face. How many people are on your side anyway? Who's doing the coordinating of that army?

  Are they all right?

  Mouse blinked. Setting his cup down slowly, he cocked his head at me curiously. Who?

  The fifty-three cases.

  Mouse's eyes scanned an invisible report. Two reported heart attacks. Ten dead and several people wounded in traffic accidents. All fifty-three cyber-trauma cases reported in stable condition. He pursed his lips, then a smile spread across his face. You could have done that yourself, Dee. What is it about you that always makes me give you free intel?

  I shook my head mutely. My mouth twitched as I tried to smile back at Mouse's beaming grin.

  Mouse stared at me, as if measuring me up. So ... he said slowly, you scrubbed the agents, eh? The way you boosted onto the LINK was awfully powerful, now that I think about it ... do you have some kind of new tech or something?

  "I don't know ..." I finally found my voice. I also spotted my underwear across the room, but I didn't have the energy to retrieve it.

  What? Subvocal, Dee. I didn't catch all of that.

  Daniel ... did he escape? I had to know.

  Mouse shook his head slowly from side to side. Barter, girlfriend. You already owe me for the hospital report.

  I got up and crossed the room. You picked a fine time to start playing hardball, Mouse. Anyway, if I remember correctly, you still owe me. All I got from you about Angelucci and Morningstar was that Michael was no angel ... and I intelled that one myself. I glance over to where Michael lay sprawled. Definitely not an angel, I smiled. Before slipping into my underwear, I quickly constructed a mental image of them. I sent the visual to Mouse as an addendum.

  Mouse raised his eyebrows appreciatively. Bonus! Don't think I'm not going to post that to your bulletin board. You know, you really need to take some time to construct a page, Dee, or at least get a better camera eye going. I'm getting tired of this shoddy work; I'm used to better from you.

  You of all people know I don't have the time to devote to making an Al right now. Tell me about Daniel. You think he's out?

  I don't know. The prison is still in chaos. Some people escaped, that much is certain, but nobody is making official reports on anything I can access. Frankly, Dee, I'm surprised you don't know. Are you saying you didn't black out the prison?

  I thought back to how easily I hacked the FBI frequency. I'd blasted Dorshak and the FBI agents with barely a thought. Mouse was right. Jibril's tech must be more powerful than anything I'd ever seen or used before. "If I did, it was unconscious. Christ, what am I capable of?"

  Mouse cursed in Arabic. I heard something, but it wasn't clear. Repeat?

  Sorry. I need to think about all this, Mouse. And – I looked over at Michael – there's a lot going on this end. I need to call you back okay?

  No, wait, Dee... I'm on my way there. I need to talk to you.

  It has to wait. Sorry. I broke the LINK connection and mentally turned off the urgent message override command. I needed some time for uninterrupted thinking. Looking over at Michael, I smiled. He moaned and rolled over. My eyes followed the muscles as they rippled along his body ... just as they should. There was nothing unearthly about the man lying here, no. I shivered and hugged my arms around my waist, feeling the firmness of my hips.

  I shook my head, brushing aside the eerie feeling creeping across my skin. The strangeness of my dream still haunted me, no doubt. I stretched my arm experimentally. I could've sworn I'd been shot last night at the police station. There was no sign of a bullet hole, not even a bruise. I pulled back the fabric of the tee shirt and touched the flesh of my shoulder tentatively, as if it didn't belong to me, or as if I expected mere contact to dispel the illusion and reveal a horrible wound. There was nothing. My skin was unbroken. It was a miracle. I looked over at Michael. His penis twitched in a dream, and a smile touched his lips.

  "I must have dreamed the wound," I told myself in a voice that sounded unconvinced. "I must've dreamed it. I must have." A six-winged creature with Michael's voice flitted through my mind, dream words echoed: I am the arch ... "No," I stopped myself. "No."

  Reaching out, I grabbed Michael's leather jacket. It was solid, not an apparition. "S
ee," I whispered. "Real."

  Michael stirred at the sound. With a groan, he stretched. The noon sun spread across his body as he unfurled. Seeing me, he smiled. "Morning."

  "Hi." My voice sounded small. Looking at my hands, I realized I was still clutching his leather jacket. Even though I knew I must look foolish standing there with his tee shirt on, stroking the contours of the soft leather, I couldn't quite bring myself to relinquish my hold on the jacket.

  "You okay?"

  I glanced up at him. He had propped himself up by the elbows to take a better look at me. Even in his nakedness, his pose held the relaxed confidence of a statue of a Roman god. I laughed nervously at the thought. Michael's association with divinity was hardly in the small "g" category, I reminded myself ... or was it?

  "Deidre?"

  "When you said you were too busy to have ... um, when you said that earlier, what were you too busy doing? No, uhm, that didn't make any sense, did it?" I suppressed a nervous laugh and clutched the jacket. My stomach lurched. "Michael, are you ... Michael, what are you?"

  He scratched his chin, considering. Then, he stood up and walked over to where his jeans and underwear were wedged into the corner. Stomping into them, he said, "I knew I should have told you before."

  He glanced up from buttoning his fly, and his eyes locked on mine. The sound of torrential fluttering of six powerful wings filled my ears. A monster with Michael's soft gray eyes said, I am the arch ...

  I shook my head. "You know what? I changed my mind. Maybe I don't want to know." I jettisoned the jacket and started frantically gathering my remaining clothes. "In fact, I really have to go. I talked to Mouse a second ago and found out that Daniel escaped. I don't know what Danny's planning on doing, but I can guess his target. I think I need to intercept him before he goes after Letourneau. I mean, who knows what kind of mental state he's in? The last letter of his I finally read ... man, he sounded a few bytes short of RAM, if you know what I mean. Daniel could be a real liability. He could damage our ability to have a little surprise on our side – not that we have any real plan, which is something else we have to ... Oh."

  My breath caught in my throat as Michael slid his arms around my waist from behind. His arms were strong and solid, but the center of his chest burned with that strange warmth I had felt in the police station. I remembered the vision from my piggyback into the FBI agent's eyes: a glimmering bow tie of heat radiated from a molten center, it was as though what seemed to be Michael's body was a shell, and the real beast lay under the surface.

  "I've never been a LINK-angel, Dee."

  His arms around my waist squeezed me tightly, but comfortably. I squirmed in his embrace. "Michael, I really don't want to know this." I whispered. "I'm afraid it will change things."

  "Like what?"

  I turned around to face him and put my hands on his smooth chest. "Like this." I stroked his rib cage with my fingernail. He shivered.

  "Why would that have to change?" He smiled, tightening his grip around my waist. "I kind of like that new development. It was nice ... twice."

  "Michael ..." I was dumbfounded. I searched his face for some comprehension, but he just smiled rakishly. "What about chastity and celibacy?"

  "What about them?" Stepping back from our embrace, he frowned. He looked me up and down. "Are you telling me you took a vow of celibacy? Deidre! This is a fine time to tell me that."

  "No," I started pacing and was on the verge of shouting. "Not me, you. You're the one who's supposed to be chaste, pure ..."

  "Why? Says who?"

  I stared at him. Despite the sun, the wood floor felt cold. I was uncomfortably aware of my body: the heaviness of my breasts; the feather-light touch of the oversize tee shirt against my nipples; and the empty ache between my thighs.

  Standing there in just his jeans, he reminded me of so many of my lovers. The dark mass of his hair was tousled, and his underwear peeked out of where he'd left the last button of his fly undone. The sun highlighted the wisps of hair on his arms.

  I slapped his face with my open palm. The connection was solid, and I was rewarded with a satisfying tingle in my palm. Staggering back in surprise, he cupped his chin in his hand.

  "Deidre! What possessed you to do that?"

  "I just wanted to know."

  "Know what?" Michael rubbed his chin. From an unreadable face, his gray eyes watched me intently.

  "I just wanted to know if you could see it coming." Relieved, I took in a deep breath. I let the tension drop from my shoulders.

  "What do you think that proves?" Michael asked, buttoning the last of his fly. Not waiting for a response, he continued, "This is exactly what Morningstar has been trying to remind me of since I got here."

  I stared at him. "What?"

  "This level precludes predetermination. Here, the apple has been eaten, as it were."

  He leaned against the narrow wall space between the windows. His tall body was cast in shadow, and the light streaming in formed bright semioval shapes on either side of him like wings. From the shadows, his eyes seemed to glow with an inhuman light. I gasped and shook my head.

  "This is all crazy. Listen to you, you're spouting nonsense like the Revelation preacher."

  "Am I?" Michael crossed his arms in front of his chest. Though most of his body was still shrouded in shadows, the sunlight outlined the muscles of his arm. Only a few hours ago, those arms held me. Looking at the hard lines of his body, I desperately wanted to believe he was a solid, normal man. I tried to deny the truth, but I knew.

  I remembered the moments he was on top of me. The usual comforting feeling of being held down by another's weight was missing. First time, I’d tried to pull him tighter. I could feel the outlines of his flesh, but without the mass. Later, I'd rolled us over, trying to banish the sensation replaced by something worse. When I was atop him, it had felt as though I were floating on air.

  Now, it was my head that felt light, and I swallowed, hard. "Michael, I'm not ready for this."

  Michael stood very still, as though afraid that with any sudden move I might bolt from the room. He chose his words carefully, slowly. "I think you've suspected for a long time, Dee."

  My fingers brushed the live connection of the LINK implant. What was once dead, had been revived ... resurrected ... and with such strange timing. It was almost as if, the moment I chose not to betray Michael the way I had betrayed Daniel, it came alive. No, I shook my head mutely. It couldn't be.

  Pulling my hand away from the implant, I flexed my fingers and felt the strength in my muscles move all the way up to my shoulder. "Miracles."

  "Yes, miracles," Michael said quietly. He turned to look out the window at the smog-shrouded city. "So incredibly precious. So costly. Every time I come, I'm given a purpose and allowed one miracle to use to that end. One. It irks me, you know? Morningstar is right. I should have trusted you to make the right choice. Jibril trusted you. But, I didn't want to risk it. I have been trying to stack the deck, and very ungenerously, I might add. I used Morningstar, I used Jibril, because I didn't want to tarnish myself. You see, a miracle is a manipulation ... and when you manipulate the universal fabric like that, you take the easy road, you turn away, yetzer-ha-ra, sin ..."

  "Sin?" I asked. "As in fallen angel? Like Morningstar?"

  "No," Michael shook his head. "Morningstar is different – an angel of darkness. He is night to my day. And, like the daylight, we wax and wane in our strength, but in the end there are never more of them then there are of us; it's an eternal balance."

  Michael turned to look at me. Seemingly unaware of my stricken look and the cold, hard feeling in the pit of my stomache continued, I’ve been trying to do the right thing, the slow and hard way, yet I've probably botched the whole operation. Making a deal with him was stupid, but I needed an ace in the hole. We were trumped. It could have been the end of the whole thing. So, I used my one phone call, and I called him. I'm in danger of embracing darkness; I could lose my high place ..."

/>   Michael looked out the window at the bright sunlight. "But to truly fall is to die. To never return to the other place."

  "Other place?" I asked, then shook my head. I didn't want to hear him say it. He looked as though he would answer me anyway, so I quickly added, "What makes you fall?"

  "I don't know; God decides."

  "God ... uh-huh." I ran my hands through my hair. With the simple gesture, I tried to ground myself. The belfry seemed too airy all of a sudden. I felt too exposed under its vaulted ceiling. The coldness in my stomach crept outward toward my limbs. "Michael ... what you're saying ... what you imply ..." I stopped, then restarted, "I mean, what about us?"

  "Oh." Michael shook his head, as if to get back on track. "The whole thing about women needing to cover their heads in church so as not to tempt us – that's totally a myth. It's the abuse of power that corrupts, not flesh itself."

  It finally broke. A wave crashed over the shoal of my reality.

  "Thanks for the clarification," I said suddenly, with more sarcasm than I intended. "Look, I've got to go. Take a walk or something; clear my head. I've got to figure out what to do about Daniel. I've got to figure out what to do about you."

  Michael's eyes were on me, burning through to my soul. "You can't. The police are looking for us. It's dangerous out there."

  "It's dangerous in here." I gave him a weak smile. I turned on my heels to go, afraid of what I might say if I stayed. My hand on the door, I said, "I need to do some things out on my own, okay? Just give me ten minutes. We can talk about it then."

  As the door swung shut I heard him say, "I love you, Deidre."

  Eion met me halfway down the stairs with a smile and a tray of fruit.

  "I was just coming up to check on you and Michael," he said cheerily. Then, his face registered the fact I was wearing Michael's tee shirt and not much else. Eion looked at my bare legs and blushed.

  Under normal circumstances I might have enjoyed taunting Eion, but with Michael half-naked just beyond the belfry door, I froze.

 

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