Angels and the Bad Man

by M. K. Gibson

  “Be at peace,” Michael whispered. I smiled in the warm confidence that the archangel radiated. He was a Power. And everyone in the room knew it.

  I looked at the archduchess and the demons in the room, took a deep, calming breath, then lit a smoke.

  “Do you, or do you not have The Tears of God?” Archduchess Bathin asked again, her voice a touch more impatient.

  “I do.”

  “Good. Hand them over.”

  “I have conditions first,” I said, puffing on my smoke.

  “Your deal was already brokered with Archbishop Maz’zael while you were incarcerated in Flotsam. The terms are non-negotiable.”

  I smiled. “I know. I was there. Atonement for my past crimes, right? I bring you the Tears of God and I get a clean slate. Löngutangar’s debt wiped away and with it, a two-year tithe immunity. All transgressions against the Kingdom of Ars Goetia, including Abraxas’s death, are now gone.” I took another drag off my smoke and steadied myself for the next part.

  “What are these conditions of yours?” Bathin asked, and I tsked.

  “I’ll get to that. For now, you have to make a ruling in the case between Andromalius and me, do you not? If I recall the charges correctly, it was two counts of Assault on a Noble, Abraxas and Andromalius. Murder of the Noble Abraxas. Destruction of Infernal Architecture. Murder of the licensed assassin Legion. And, Larceny without a Sanction against Andromalius. Did I miss anything?”

  “That’s fairly accurate.”

  “Then this should be open and shut then. Nice knowing you, Baron,” Andromalius said.

  “You know, normally I would beat you to death. Or just shoot you in the face. But recent events have taught me that I haven’t been using my mind as much as I once was. And for once, I feel like I am ahead of the curve.”

  “What does that even mean?” Andromalius asked.

  “Simple. You’re fucked,” I said, finishing my smoke and lighting another one.

  “Archduchess Bathin, Archduke Maz’zael, if I may?”

  “Proceed,” Bathin said. Her voice reminded me of those old police procedural TV shows. The part where the judge was telling the defending counsel they would allow it, but they were on thin ice. So I considered myself warned.

  I moved around the room, exploring the space and taking note of the various district lords and bishops in the room. Good to know who may one day be gunning for me.

  “Once I hand over The Tears of God, then I have made proper atonement. All matters concerning Abraxas are wiped away. Gone forever. The assault, the death, the destruction on property. Everything. Correct?”

  “Correct,” Bathin agreed.

  “And Andromalius’s filing for claim against my estate was based on the Infernal Laws of Right of Aggrieved Kin?”

  “Yes,” Bathin said. She wasn’t dumb; she saw what was coming. She smiled a vulpine grin. Andromalius, while dimmer, also picked up on what was coming next. He did not smile.

  “Thus, once my atonement is granted, that nullifies Andromalius’s claim and Granted Larceny against my estate. His case was based on nothing. He is then, in fact, guilty of assault and illegal larceny against a noble. And by law, upon the outcome of this arbitration, all that is his becomes mine.”

  “What?!” Andromalius yelled as he stood up. At a glance, Archduchess Bathin’s armed guards stepped in, apprehending Andromalius. “I am a bishop! Unhand me!”

  “No, Chuckles. Like I said, you’re fucked. You’re an amusement. A plaything. This sign language monkey just beat you,” I said, quoting his own words back to him. Just to accentuate the point, I flicked my cigarette butt at him.

  Andromalus was stronger than he looked. He twisted free of the guard’s grip, produced an inferium dagger, and lunged for me.

  Normally I would switch into fight mode and deal with this. But for some reason, and Lord only knew why, everyone seemed to forget the giant archangel standing behind me.

  Michael stepped forward and intercepted Andromalius, gripping the smaller demon’s wrist so tight his bones threatened to break. The demon dropped the blade. Michael shoved him back into the waiting arms of the guards.

  “Thank you, Archangel,” Archduchess Bathin said, actually sounding courteous.

  “Ma’am.” Michael nodded.

  “As I was saying,” I continued. “For the grievances brought against me and my estate by Bishop Andromalius, and pending any atonement you set for him, then all his assets belong to me provided I can pay for them. Correct?”

  “Correct,” Bathin agreed. “However, Bishop Andromalius has amassed quite a considerable fortune. Even with your wealth, and tithe immunity, you could not assume the fiscal responsibility for both your Barony of Löngutangar and Windy Spires.”

  “Not so, Archduchess. Once you rule in my favor, then his estate becomes part of my estate. And, as per our terms, my estate’s debts have been forgiven and given a two-year tithe immunity.”

  There it was. All tied up in a neat little bow. Damn, I love being me sometimes.

  However, Bathin did not seem to think the wrapping was all that pretty.

  “Archduchess, I can see your trepidation. So I am going to sweeten the deal so that it benefits you and me both,” I said.

  OK, deep breath. I set them up. Now time to knock it out of the park. “My conditions for turning over the Tears of God to you. I request a business license.”

  “What is the nature of this business?” Bathin asked, sounding intrigued.

  “A trans-kingdom, trans-global transportation system,” I said.

  The room fell silent. The demons seemed perplexed. Their human advisers whispered to them what the technological implications could mean. Surprisingly, Bathin spoke first.

  “Such a venture is impossible. You are not the first to consider this. The infrastructure is not fiscally, or technologically, sound. The vast expanses in the waste, outside the supercities, are too prone to Abomination attack. Across the great seas, any magna-rail would be destroyed by Deep One aggression. Your plan is outdated and laughable.”

  The room nodded in agreement. Great—a demonic echo chamber.

  “With every ounce of respect, ma’am, that’s not what I am proposing. I’m proposing Ley Line Transportation.”

  The room broke into chaos upon the words “Ley Lines.” But the Archduchess silenced them with a wave. “Explain yourself.”

  “Archduchess, demonic nobles, please—allow me to be frank for a moment. You have little to no power anymore. As time passes, you will have even less,” I said, and the room turned icy. But a resonating growl from Michael reminded them of his presence and his waning tolerance of demons.

  “Those of you who existed in the Infernal Realm had the power of infinite souls to draw upon. But once you came topside, that source of power was no longer available to you. What you have in your tanks is all you have left. But angels still have the ability to draw upon the power of people through belief and faith. I recently came upon a choir of them who have nothing. No direction, no purpose. And if you’re worried about it, your war is over. They are as stuck here as you are.

  “But, since New Golgotha, and pretty much every Supercity, already has the Magna-Rail infrastructure in place run by the Brotherhood, I propose Ley Line intersection junctions be set up and powered by these angels, who can utilize their power and transport people, goods, products— you name it—anywhere in the world. As people begin to see what this can do, they will have faith and believe in these angels, thereby ensuring their continued power.

  “I have allies in The Brotherhood. I know I can broker this deal. You judge in favor of me, and I will turn Windy Spires into the central hub for all Trans-Global ventures. I will place the demon Khurzon in Windy Spires as my proxy, so you won’t have to worry about not having demonic influence. Michael will serve as the leader of the angelic union. And when this is all set up and done, you, Archduchess, will be the one to revolutionize global economy. Your new power will rival Lemegeton and Archduke D
antalion’s.

  “So, I think this more than compensates for any perceived lost revenue from my acquisition of Andromalius’s holdings.”

  The room was quiet. Begrudgingly, there were nods all around the room.

  Goddamn, I was smooth.

  Or it could have been a certain ring I was wearing.

  So, that was it. All the cards on the table. Now it was Bathin’s turn.

  “So, m’lady, what do you say?”

  Chapter Fifty-Three

  Homecomings

  “Are you out of your goddamn mind!?” Reggie yelled at me through the vid screen.

  “It could work,” RM said from his side of the split-screen video conference call.

  I lit a smoke in the back of Archduchess Bathin’s hover-skiff. While not her personal transport, the skiff was used to ferry high-ranking people, or to collect nobles to face punishment. The bloodstains on the leather let me know not all of them chose to actually reach judgment. But hey, the bar was fully stocked. I mixed myself a whiskey sour and listened to The Brotherhood representatives argue.

  “Angels? Seriously?” Reggie reiterated. The oldhead lit a smoke and crossed his arms. He was old school and didn’t trust anything that wasn’t human flesh and blood.

  “Yeah, angels,” I said for what had to have been the thousandth time. “They aren’t mythical. They’ve been in hiding. I have some who are willing to help.”

  “And you want us to trust in ‘angel magic’?”

  I sighed. “Yeah, Reg, ‘angel magic’. In theory, it is simple. You transport your rail shipments like always. But once you hit a hub, the onboard angel will then use the power of the Ley Lines and the Well of Souls at the junction points to transport the entire shipment to the next hub. At which point you pick back up on the already installed magna-rails.”

  I could tell he still wasn’t buying it. So I hit him in his humanity. “Think about it, Reggie. Really think about it. The Brotherhood would have total global dominance of the transport of goods and services. You’ll expand into moving people all over the world. We are on the cusp of an entirely new world. People no longer afraid to leave the cities for fear of the Deep Ones, opening trade to the supercities around the world. And at the heart of it, full human control of it. So would you rather trust a demon or an angel?”

  “Fuck ’em both,” Reggie said as he rolled his eyes.

  “Reg, we go way way back,” RM said to his Brotherhood friend. “I trust Salem. This plan is rough, sure. It’ll take a couple of years to make the modifications. But we can be what we always wanted to be.”

  “Fine. Send me the tech specs. I’m sure there is more work to be done than you realize. I’ll make the calls to the other Brotherhood leaders and we’ll vote on it. When should we expect these angels to show up?”

  “Soon, man. Just review the specs. You know this is going to work.”

  “Yeah yeah. Damn kid’s going to be the death of me,” he said as he was about to sign off the vid conference.

  “Reggie,” I said.

  “Yeah?” he asked, pausing.

  “Thanks for your help. Those kids are alive because of you.”

  Reggie didn’t say anything. He just nodded and switched off his vid conference.

  “You know you just made him feel human emotion. Next time he sees you he is more than likely going to take a swing at you,” RM smirked.

  “Eh, worth it. So, you think the vote will pass? I am kinda banking on it under punishment of demonic law.”

  “Don’t worry, it’ll pass. It’s a good plan. Pretty smart thinking, by the way.”

  “Thanks. I appreciate your support.”

  “Always kid, always. So, are we on for dinner sometime?”

  I wasn’t sure how to answer. Seeing RM in person would be great. But seeing him again, socially, would be like picking open old wounds.

  Hell, wasn’t that what life was anyway?

  “Yeah. I have a mountain of things that need to get done here and at Windy Spires. So, it’ll be a while. I can’t say for sure when. Although I’m pardoned, there are no doubt some of Andromalius’s old guard who will try and make my life hell. I need to let the heat cool off.”

  “I understand, I understand. Take your time. But don’t forget about us. My sister Cara can’t wait. But you might wanna come armed. She’s still mad as hell at you. She also still has the hots for you. Throw in some menopause, lord only knows what’s going to happen. Women, right?”

  “RM?”

  “Yeah?”

  “Did Cara have a child that I never knew about?”

  “What?”

  “Remember when you helped smuggle Grimm and me into the city, and lied to me saying Cara was pregnant and lost the baby and killed herself? You did it as a sick joke to make me feel bad?”

  “Yeah,” he chuckled. “I did. I admit, I have a dark sense of humor. But it served you right for disappearing for thirty years and thinking I couldn’t handle your secrets.”

  “You said the story was bullshit.”

  “Yeah. Because it was bullshit. Cara never had a child. ”

  I nodded. “Thank you. I needed to hear that. I’ll be in touch soon.”

  RM nodded as I switched off the vid-com. I didn’t need Grimm’s supernatural ability to know that RM was lying. Knowing someone for years, even decades later, you can still pick up on their tells.

  Cara did have a child. My child. Jensen.

  I sipped at my drink and smoked my cigarette, thinking about the son who grew up in a world without a father.

  ********

  Gabrielle, true to her word, returned TJ earlier in the day. Naturally, the boy told almost everyone everything while making up the rest. I knew this because I was greeted at the gate by armed guards. They were laughing as they presented me with a cake.

  A cake shaped like an Abomination walker with a huge erection. Shit. I was never going to live this one down.

  ********

  All of Löngutangar was celebrating my return. Well, not just my return, but survival in general. A feast was going on in the great hall. The main fire was lit and people danced. They made music. God, they made music. Theirs hearts were lifted. Their spirits swelled. Their souls swelled. The people of Midheim already had it. But it would spread.

  I drank my drink and watched the party unfold. I sat in the most secluded shadowy back corner section of the mead hall and just watched.

  Would inspiration come back to all of humanity? Could I help foster that? I didn’t know. But my plan was to turn Löngutangar and the Trans-Global railway into a beacon of hope for humanity. If mankind needed a light to look to, now that the Tears of God were no longer in the Temple of Solomon, then I’d give them that light. I’d give them that hope. Before the darkness of the Deep Ones awakened.

  Shit, that was depressing.

  “Salem. Welcome home.”

  I looked up and saw Grimm, Vali, Vidar, Khurzon, Twitch, and Taylor standing at the table. They brought a bottle of very old and very expensive scotch. No doubt they raided it from my private stash. Considering the circumstances, I decided to let it slide.

  I stood and greeted my friends one by one with a hug. Taylor hugged me tight. The tall greasy mechanic thanked me over and over for bringing his son home alive and well. Even if the little guy was sporting frost-white hair, white eyes, and was acting more like me by the hour.

  He didn’t know that I knew who he was. Well, that would be a fun a conversation for later. With a smile, Taylor let me go and took a seat. I was picked up from behind with four arms in a massive hug.

  “Welcome back, jailbird.”

  Once I was put back on my feet, I turned and gave Khurzon a proper hug. “Thank you. You brought the kids home.”

  “And the house you promised to have built for me?”

  “You’re gonna need two. One here, and one in Windy Spires. I’ve got a new job lined up for you.”

  “Am I going to like it?”

  I smiled. “Do you l
ike wealth and power?”

  Khurzon smiled back. “Tell me more.”

  “Later.”

  Vali and Vidar both picked me up, then set me down at the table while Grimm poured everyone drinks. Vidar, per usual, bummed one of my smokes.

  Vali, though, just smiled at me. And I noticed that his glass was full of water.

  “On the wagon?” I asked.

  “A friend helped knock some sense into me.”

  “Some friend.”

  “Yeah. The best ones are the most honest.”

  “I don’t know what all TJ said—” I began.

  Vali cut me off. “He told me you saved us. All I need to hear.”

  “He doesn’t know everything. When I tried to take The Tears, I had . . . visions. Visions of you and what you did in Flotsam. Both of you,” I said, looking from Vali to Taylor. “Thank you.”

  “What do you mean?” Taylor asked. “What vision?”

  “I-I saw,” I said, my voice cracking slightly. I pointed to Vali’s eyepatch, then my hand went to my mouth while I tried to compose myself. “I saw what you two did there. How you suffered. And what you did. I’m sorry.”

  Vali reached across the table and grabbed my fist in both his hands. “And I know, what you went through . . . for all of us.”

  Letting my fist go, he touched the eyepatch. “This? Nothing I wouldn't do again.”

  Vali’s words hit me deep. I simply nodded, letting the unspoken bond of pain convey our meaning.

  “Twitch, Yeela, and Khlabra. Where are they?”

  “Right here, asshole,” Twitch said, coming through the party to stand at the table. After getting cleaned up and wearing more than prison rags, the cyber hacker looked human. She pointed her new bio-mech hand at me. “You left me for dead.”

  I stood and went to give her a hug, but Twitch waved me off. “No, no touchy. You owe me.”

  “I know. I owe you my life. I didn’t know you were alive. I swear. But I’ll make up for it. You’ll always have a home here.”

  “I believe you,” she said with a smirk. Quickly, she slapped me in the mouth with her metal hand.