“No.” Simon’s voice was flat. “No, I can’t accept that.”
“I’m sorry, Simon. Really, really sorry.” Angela wiped her nose and regarded him. “He was the General in the war that destroyed my world and drove us all here. My partner, the Soul Thief, infected us all with the poison of war, and now we’re reliving it in this world.”
“What the hell are you talking about?” he asked in that same flat voice.
Angela told him about her and Cassandra’s origins in the prehuman world. “But this time, who’s going to stop the war? There are no good leaders. There’s no Council. There’s only us.”
CHAPTER SEVENTY
Enlightenment
Her greatest friend is introduced
To secret lore, and disabused
Of that which formed his old beliefs
And misconceptions so profuse.
“Eric?” Angela paced, phone to her ear.
“Angela, I—”
“I’m not going to close the clinic. That was crazy talk.”
He exhaled loudly. “Thank God. I don’t know what happened on the phone.”
“I think I do, but let’s not go into it right now. I just wanted to let you know I’m okay. And I’m really sorry about what happened.”
“Hon, I’m coming over,” Eric said.
“It’s late.” Angela shook her head. “Anyway, I’m not at home.”
“Angela, look. I know you, and I know there’s more going on than you’re letting on. Right now, what I bet you need the most is the company of the people who love you.”
After a few more minutes of back and forth, Angela invited Eric over to Simon’s place for a late-night powwow. He was right. The need to keep her mundane and paranormal worlds separate seemed much less important after what she had gone through.
Simon was in the kitchen making tea and snacks, and Angela’s stomach rumbled in anticipation. Cassandra, exhausted, had gone to sleep in the apartment’s only bedroom but had first extracted a promise that Angela would do nothing without waking her.
There was a knock at the door.
“C’mon in,” she called out.
Eric opened the door and peered warily at her. “Angela?”
Seeing his hesitation, she got up and walked over to enfold him in a warm hug. “I’m really sorry, Eric.”
He gingerly hugged her back. “It’s okay,” he murmured.
Stepping back, she clasped his upper arms and smiled through her exhaustion. “Make yourself comfortable. Want some tea? There’s hot water.”
“That’d be great, hon.”
“I’ve got it.” Simon came into the room with a tray balanced on his lap. Steam curled from three cups. He looked curiously at Angela’s visitor.
Angela gestured. “Simon, this is Eric. Eric, Simon. He’s been helping us with our work.”
Simon set the tray down on the coffee table and shook hands with Eric. “Glad to finally meet you. Angela’s said good things about you.” He gestured. “What kind of tea do you want?”
Eric selected a green tea, dunked it in the cup, and sat on the couch with Angela. They looked at each other, and he raised an eyebrow.
“I need to explain some things to you.” Angela clasped her hands tightly.
“Okay.”
She paused, studying his face. “I’m engaged in a… research project. You may have noticed a strangely belligerent atmosphere all over lately.”
He nodded. “Everybody wants to fight. Hell, I pushed a guy at the club the other night. Of course, I was a little drunk, but…”
“That’s not like you. Yeah. Look, you know about memetics, right?”
“A little.” He sounded hesitant.
She explained what she had learned, skirting the supernatural elements.
Eric nodded. “So there’s a meme outbreak. What’s your angle? I mean, I know you. You don’t just observe. You look for solutions.”
“I have no idea how to counter this one. It’s pervasive, persuasive, and highly invasive.”
“You’re a poet! I never knew.”
Angela shuddered, unable for a moment to match his humor. She reached out to touch his shoulder. “Sorry, man. I’m having trouble laughing right now.” She paused. “I just don’t have any idea where to start. I’ve crafted a few memes, but nothing like the kind of thing that could help stop this roller-coaster ride to hell.”
Simon chimed in. “It’s not like we haven’t been at war for the last two hundred years. Did you know that there’s a statue of Ares in DC? We’re in the habit of worshipping the god of battles.”
Angela looked at him. “What did you say?”
Simon raised his hand. “I only said that the good old USA is used to fighting war.”
“I mean, what did you call Ares? God of Battles?”
“Yeah. That’s what I call him, anyway.” He set his spoon down and scratched his face reflectively
Angela thought back on what Iron Star had said to her. “He was talking about Ares.”
“Who?” Eric’s face was wrinkled in a frown.
“Never mind. How can you win a battle against the god of war?”
Eric lifted an eyebrow. “Simple. With love.”
Simon grunted. He stared at Eric then nodded.
Angela looked at Eric. “What do you mean?”
Eric continued. “In the old myths, Ares had an ongoing affair with the goddess of love, Aphrodite. She could stop his rampage with a smile and a beckoning finger.” At Angela’s wondering look, he grinned. “Remember? I wrote my doctoral thesis on the Jungian archetypes governing relationships.”
“She was his lover, not his wife,” Simon muttered.
Eric glanced at him. “Go on.”
Simon shrugged and explained his pagan leanings. “Ares is my patron, but Aphrodite was highly regarded by the Greeks. She is said to be older than all other gods in the pantheon. She is fickle, though.”
Angela felt puzzle pieces slide neatly into place. It was a stretch to think of the gods as independent of human consciousness. However, they were, at a minimum, super meme-plexes of great importance. She had no doubt that the old stories gave clues about the nature of those great patterns of thought.
“Aphrodite. I wonder.” She met Simon’s steady gaze. “That might be what I need. To create or evoke a meme related to Aphrodite.”
Eric leaned back. “Okay. How’s that going to help, really? We’re already about to go to war. A pretty slogan’s not going to get us anywhere.”
“She’s talking about going to the source of love,” Simon said. “Getting help from… her.” Seeing the look of puzzlement on Eric’s face, he glanced at Angela. “You might want to explain this to your friend.”
Angela swallowed, her throat dry. It was time to open up to her best friend. But how much could she tell him? She had always cherished his normalcy as an anchor in her otherwise bizarre world.
With a small shake of her head, she looked Eric in the eyes. “There’s something I’ve never told you, Eric.” She paused. Where should she start? Looking down at her hands, she continued. “I have a… talent. Something I’ve been able to do since I was a teenager.” A movement caught her eye, and she glanced up.
Cassandra was sitting in her chair quietly by the bedroom doorway, watching their interplay. She shook her head. “Angela, you’re stalling. He deserves to know what you’re talking about.”
Angela glared at her. “Dammit, I know that.” Then she stopped, blinking. “Cassie? I’m sorry. And I’m getting tired of apologizing.”
Cassandra grinned wanly. “It’s okay. I’m tired of being apologized at.”
“So, you have a talent,” Eric said. “You’ve got lots of talents. Dancing, drinking whiskey…”
She shook her head. “This is different. It’s hard to explain. Eric, I’m a psychic healer.” She continued talking rapidly, seeing his incredulity. “Seriously. I can go into people’s minds and heal them. All I have to do is touch someone’s forehead, an
d then I’m inside their mind. I’ve done it for you a bunch of times.”
Eric put a hand up. “No, don’t start this now, please. I’ve had a really hard day. Can we play some other time?”
“All right. I’ll have to demonstrate. Eric, I want to prove it to you. Lean back on the sofa.”
He stared at her for a moment then did as she instructed. Angela reached out and touched his forehead.
Half an hour later, Eric struggled to a seated position on the couch, his face smoothed by wonder. “Angela. I…” He stopped, swallowed, and shook his head.
She raised her finger to her lips. “Shhh. It’s okay. I’m glad you were able to come to that place, too.” She stood by the couch, having returned from his meadow just a moment before. Angela took a deep breath, feeling her reserves draining away. She could just lie down and catch up on her sleep. But there was no time. Instead, she rolled her shoulders back a couple of times and stretched.
He swallowed again, his Adam’s apple bobbing. Angela winced, seeing his wide-eyed stare. She did not need awe at that moment. She needed her friend.
“Eric, at the hospital last year, I was nearly killed by a creature, a thing, that lived in that place. The place I call the Otherworld. That’s what drove so many people insane, and that’s what killed George.” She sat next to him. “In the end, Cassie helped me to destroy my enemy.”
Cassandra nodded. “We called him the Soul Thief. He was riding me hard when I got there, but he was really after Angela—used me as bait, but she rescued me, and we kicked his sorry ass.”
Eric passed a hand over his face then slicked back his shock of hair. “We all thought you were kind of eccentric, but when you saved the hospital everyone chalked it up to genius. But now it makes sense. You. Cassie. What happened to Josef. Even me.” His eyes widened. “Wait a minute. Is that what this is all about? Are you telling me that something like that is happening in that Otherworld place?”
Angela nodded and told him about Iron Star.
Eric was pale. “Was he behind the bombing at the clinic?”
“Yep.” She examined him closely. Was he going into shock? On an impulse, Angela leaned over and pulled Eric into a hug. He held onto her tightly. She squeezed his shoulders and continued, speaking more softly. “Eric? Something happened to me, and now I’m the one doing Iron Star’s job.”
“My God,” he said, his voice muffled by her shoulder. They held each other for a moment longer then disengaged and sat back, sighing simultaneously. Angela laughed, feeling some of her tension evaporate.
“You know, with that ability, you could change the world.” Eric shook his head. “It’s every therapist’s dream to be able to just reach in and fix what’s broken. And you can do it. Why keep it a secret?”
“Angela would be disappeared by the government”—Cassandra snapped her fingers—“just like that. Right?”
Angela nodded. “But that’s not the main reason. I want to be a healer. I can’t do that if I’ve got all this notoriety. That’s why I pretend to do hypnotherapy. And besides…” She stopped. She realized she still wasn’t ready to explain her past life. Lives.
“Besides?”
“Never mind. So now you know.”
Eric wiped a tear from the corner of his eye. “Yeah. And now I understand. So, how can I help?”
Angela smiled with relief. “I don’t know yet, but just having you in my confidence helps a hell of a lot.”
Simon cleared his throat, breaking his silence since Angela’s return. “I hate to say it, but we can’t just go up to Aphrodite and say ‘Hi, can you help us fight your lover?’ Besides, some of the old stories indicate that she was also a war goddess long before the other Greek gods showed up. She might want things to stay the way they are.”
“I think it’s worth a shot.” Angela sat forward, elbows on her knees. “But we don’t have enough information.” She put her chin on her fist, remembering the lessons she had learned from George about the higher worlds.
CHAPTER SEVENTY-ONE
War in Heaven: Flying Unto War
Diamond Angel’s Palace, Bald Eagle
Diamond Angel was seated on her throne. Her chin was on her fist, and she stared into the distance. Neither Iron Star nor her adjutant was present. Iron Star fought on her behalf at the front; her adjutant had been sent to serve him.
The air flexed, and there was a monstrous sigh. Then a rumbling resolved into words. “War Leader, why do you conceal yourself from me?”
Diamond Angel looked up from her contemplation and straightened in her chair. “My Lord. I do not conceal anything from you.”
“I cannot see into your secret self. There is a darkness in your heart. Open that place that I may plumb your secrets.”
Diamond Angel grasped the arms of the chair tightly. She bowed her head.
A moment passed before Bald Eagle spoke again. “You are divided. That part of you that you sent to the Underworld moves against your will. Why do you allow this?”
She lifted her head. “My Lord, I have fought to overcome this flaw, yet it eludes me.”
“Join with me. Come into me that I may purge you of this division and bring that darkness into the light.”
Diamond Angel drew a breath, held it, then released it. “I cannot, my Lord.”
There was silence. Then the air rumbled again.
“This is the work of Serpent Lion and Dark Eyes. War Leader, you shall remain here while I attend to them personally. I shall then consider whether to offer Iron Star your position.”
Diamond Angel lowered her head. The air became still, and darkness descended.
Somewhere near the Border of Bald Eagle
Three angels, caparisoned for war, materialized in an open area between gigantic, multicolored facades scrawled with slogans. There was a muted rumble of thunder, and a swirling cloud appeared in the near distance, heralding the opening of a portal leading into the realm of Serpent Lion. They began running, accelerating as they went, and leaped into it. Another three appeared as an additional portal opened into Dark Eyes, and they vanished into it.
Serpent Lion’s Palace
The first wave of attackers from Bald Eagle was not entirely unexpected, but the ferocity with which they fought was almost overwhelming. Angel after angel was destroyed, even as Serpent Lion herself took the field. One of the attacking angels, a powerful winged man with the head of a hawk, tore through the ranks of the defenders, wielding a shining sword.
Serpent Lion engaged that one, parrying devastating blows, which left steaming rents in the ground. The Egregore was driven back almost to the walls of the palace before rallying. The thought crossed her mind that this hawk-headed angel was an avatar of Bald Eagle himself, something which few had seen lately.
Feinting with the short spear, Serpent Lion drove her shield against the angel’s unprotected side, getting inside the radius of his attack. The angel staggered, and Serpent Lion took advantage of the resulting opening to drive the spear deep into his side. He screamed a high-pitched eagle’s screech, and then, with a series of small explosions, he disintegrated into random debris.
The rest of the attackers, driven off by the palace defenders, disappeared in the direction of Bald Eagle’s realm.
Turning to an adjutant, Serpent Lion gestured at the killing field. “Organize a cleanup party, and salvage any information you can about this attack. Bald Eagle may simply be reacting to our subversion of his War Leader, but I want to be sure there is no other reason for the ferocity of this assault.”
The adjutant nodded and left to supervise. Serpent Lion stood motionless for a while, sadly contemplating the wreckage of the battlefield, then turned and went back inside to rest and to plan better defenses.
War on Earth
“God hates fags! You’re all going to hell! Go…”
—
“Leave us alone. All you’ve got is hate…”
—
“God loves everyone, no matter…”
; —
“Says so right here in the…”
—
“Go home. Leave…”
—
“… us alone.”
Office hallway, Oakland
“Did you hear about the gay guy who got beaten to death in Alabama?” The office worker sipped his coffee.
“Yeah. The Bible-thumpers are going nuts. What about that preacher, huh?”
“Guys like that oughta be locked up for stirring up the crazies.”
CHAPTER SEVENTY-TWO
Looking for Love
So heartened is she by this act
That boldly does she then enact
A plan to storm the gates of Love
To rid herself of hellish pact.
Sitting with her chin on her fist, Angela felt the room swim, as if there had been a minor earthquake. She looked at the others, and it seemed as if a wall of glass had arisen between her and them so that she could not feel their presence. They watched her, silently expectant, and she was at a loss.
Cassandra must have seen something in Angela’s expression because she half-rose from her chair then winced and sat back down. “Are you okay?”
“I think I’m just tired. I’ve been overdoing the whole Otherworld bit.” Angela sighed and stared at her hands in an attempt to ground herself. “Maybe the best thing right now for us all is to get some rest.”
She looked at Eric. “Now that you know what’s going on, can you give it some thought? I put a hold on all my appointments till I could sort out what’s happened to me, but you shouldn’t have to stop working. Still, if you have any more insights I’d really love to hear them.”
The God of Battles Page 29