The Edge of Reason

by Melinda Snodgrass

  Richard started edging toward the office door. “This is … is … ludicrous.”

  “You need to remember your legends, Richard, and remember that they’re all based on fact,” Kenntnis said. “In the Bible they talk of the sons of God coming down and lying with the daughters of men. In the Middle Ages it was stolen away by elves; today we’ve got alien abductions.”

  “Would you stop lecturing!” Richard snapped. “Rhiana is a living woman—not an abstract.”

  “You’re all abstracts to me. You have to be. I’ve known so many of you, and I can’t allow myself to be touched by any of you. Or at least not much.” Kenntnis’s voice softened to a bass rumble and for the first time since meeting the man, Richard sensed emotion behind the words.

  Richard concluded the sentence. “You’ve watched so many of us die.” Kenntnis nodded.

  The door to the office opened and Cross entered. “You’re discussing her, aren’t you?” he accused. Richard followed Kenntnis’s lead and remained silent. “Well, I’m warning you both I want something done about her. She can’t be trusted. Nobody knows better than me what she’s capable of doing.”

  “So, just kill her because she might do something?” Richard asked. Disgust was a bad taste across the back of his tongue. “I’ve never liked this doctrine of preemption, not nationally and not personally.”

  “Who said anything about killing her?” Cross replied. “Just use the damn sword on her. Neutralize her.”

  Richard pulled the hilt out of his coat pocket and turned it slowly in his hands. “But this thing kills magical creatures.”

  Cross shrugged. “She’s only half magic. She’ll probably survive.”

  “And what happens if half of her nature is destroyed?” Growing anger had Richard’s voice rising in level and pitch.

  “My guess is that it would be similar to a lobotomy,” said Kenntnis smoothly.

  Cross glared at him. “Whose side are you on?”

  “Humanity’s,” said Kenntnis.

  Moving slowly and deliberately, Richard returned the sword hilt to his pocket and buttoned up his shirt. “That’s too esoteric for me. I’ll be on Rhiana’s side.” He looked at Cross. “If you won’t work with her then we’ll send her away.”

  Kenntnis shook his head. “No, she’s far too dangerous and valuable an asset. If she’s not our piece she’ll be someone else’s.”

  “She’s a girl. Not a piece. And I won’t harm her … or allow anyone else to,” Richard added, stressing the final words.

  “And how are you going to stop me?” Cross’s normally open and pleasant expression was twisted.

  “I’ll go to Grenier.”

  “Then I’ll kill you,” blustered Cross.

  “No, you won’t,” said Richard. He was oddly calm, but he’d realized this was chess and he saw the endgame. “You need me, and if you start the killing you’re just giving strength to your enemies. You’ll end up consumed by one of your counterparts, and you’ll never achieve the peace you’re seeking. So, let’s accept the stalemate, and not give Rhiana any reason to turn against us.”

  “You’re not in charge here,” said Cross.

  “Yes, I am. I have to be.” Richard seated himself in the chair opposite Kenntnis. “Now it’s my turn to give a little lecture.” Resting his arms on the desk, he leaned in on Kenntnis. “You honor, almost worship, the scientific method, but you’ve lost sight of its most important element. Doubt is the key to everything you profess to represent; the ability to say I don’t know, and the strength to examine and question every conclusion. But ever since I’ve met you, you’ve been giving me all the answers, and when that happens you’ve lost touch with humility, and that makes you no different from your opponents.”

  “You ballsy little bastard,” Cross whispered.

  Kenntnis didn’t respond, he just stared at Richard. Richard forced himself to meet that dark gaze. It wasn’t easy. The force of Kenntnis’s personality was a physical presence in the room, making Richard feel even smaller than usual.

  “You present a utopian result for your path, but there are dangers on your path as well,” Richard continued.

  “I’m listening.” The voice rumbled out deep and dark as the eyes.

  “You can end up with profoundly secular and profoundly evil regimes—”

  “No, no, Richard.” Kenntnis shook his finger at him. “You don’t get to trot out the old ‘intellect without humanity’ argument. It’s been used by reactionaries since Hume to frighten people into obeying religious authorities. Which is not to say that your argument isn’t valid. I bear watching as much as any living being. Just be intellectually honest and say what you mean.”

  “All right.” Richard slowly stood and looked down at Kenntnis. “I will not harm Rhiana. No matter how justified the end.” He paused and drew in a breath. The explosion of air into his lungs made Richard realize he had been holding his breath.

  Cross blew out a breath, startlingly loud in the silent room. Kenntnis shook his head. “Why couldn’t you have just been an ignorant flatfoot?”

  Richard allowed himself a small smile. “And just done what I was told?”

  The briefest of answering smiles touched Kenntnis’s lips. “No, that’s Grenier’s way. All right, I accept your terms.”

  Richard walked to the door, then paused and looked back. “By the way, I know who you are, or at least some of the names we humans have used for you.” Kenntnis raised an inquiring eyebrow.

  “You’re the Serpent, and Prometheus, and Lucifer.”

  “I’ve always liked Prometheus the best,” Kenntnis mused.

  “And given your background we don’t want you thinking too much about this Satan thing,” said Cross, waving his hands as if to obscure the word. “Remember, we’re the good guys.”

  “And I’m here to keep you good,” Richard said softly.

  Chapter THIRTEEN

  “Isn’t it a little late?” Rhiana asked as Kenntnis deposited the standing rib roast in the center of the dining room table. Mashed potatoes were piped around the edge of the platter, vegetable whitecaps breaking against the dark sides of the roast. Cross followed with a basket of popovers and a bowl of green beans.

  The rich smell of fresh ground black pepper and beef juices hit Angela’s nose and saliva erupted in her mouth. “Food is good,” she said. “Keeps the strength up. Calms jittery nerves.”

  “You’re my kind of woman,” said Cross as he seated himself and stuffed a napkin into the collar of his dirty flannel shirt.

  “You shouldn’t have let Richard leave,” Rhiana directed at Kenntnis. Her tone was aggrieved and accusing.

  “Short of sitting on him I don’t know how I was supposed to stop him,” Kenntnis replied mildly.

  “He might be in danger,” Rhiana persisted.

  Got a major crush developing here, Angela thought, but she knew from the faint twinge of pique that she was also in danger. Not wanting that much self-analysis, she turned her attention to the room. She studied the art gracing the dark wood-paneled walls, the ethereal crystal chandelier looking like a frozen waterfall, the deep glow of carved and polished wood in the table, chairs and buffet.

  Kenntnis opened a bottle of Merlot, and filled their glasses. He then raised his. “To the Lumina.”

  “About damn time we have it back,” grunted Cross.

  Angela tapped the rim of her glass against Cross’s, and a pure ringing tone hung in the silence. Rhiana held out her glass toward the homeless god, but Cross ignored it, focusing on his plate.

  So, I wonder what’s up his ass? Angela mused.

  The candles on the table sprang to life, their fire dancing in the crystal and reflecting in the polished wood of the tabletop. Angela jumped. Kenntnis and Cross looked at Rhiana. She looked back, and her posture yelled defiance.

  “I’m still here,” Rhiana said.

  “We’re not likely to forget about you,” grunted Cross, and the tone wasn’t friendly.

  “Don’t
do parlor tricks,” Kenntnis ordered. “It takes energy and it puts a pinprick hole in the universe. Do magic when I tell you to.”

  “So, I can keep using magic?” Rhiana asked.

  “Yes, of course.”

  “But I thought magic was baaad.” Angela put a long drawl on the final word, and was pleased to see Kenntnis flash her a look of annoyance.

  Her granny had always told her the way she liked to poke people was perverse, but she couldn’t help herself. Even with a man who possessed this much presence and, she suspected, power, she couldn’t rein in her unruly tongue.

  “There are no perfect or totally harmless choices here. We’re playing to win,” Kenntnis replied.

  “So the ends justify the means?” Angela asked and gave Kenntnis a limpid and innocent look.

  The big man looked even more annoyed, and Cross gave a bark of laughter that sent popover crumbs spewing across the table. “He’s already had this conversation once tonight.”

  “With Richard?” Rhiana asked eagerly.

  Kenntnis didn’t reply. Instead he picked up a carving knife and a sharpener. Steel rasped against stone. He cut into the roast, parting the seared exterior. Blood flowed and red meat showed against the bone. Angela saw Rhiana staring with repellent fascination.

  “Vegetarian?” she asked the younger woman. Rhiana nodded.

  Cross reached across the table and speared a slice of beef. Angela watched the blood drip onto the white damask tablecloth and had a sudden flash of Richard’s blood.

  “I’ll take a burnt end,” Angela said firmly and held out her plate to Kenntnis.

  Kenntnis sent down her plate, and filled Rhiana’s with potatoes, green beans and a popover. Angela broke open the hot popover, filled the hollow interior with a large pat of butter, and took a bite. It was heavenly.

  Rhiana took a few tiny bites then threw down her fork. “I still don’t think you should have let Richard leave,” she said again.

  “He needed a break from all of us.”

  “From you, maybe,” Rhiana muttered at her plate.

  Angela cast a covert glance at Rhiana’s flawless profile. The line of Richard’s jaw was suddenly foremost in her mind. Why couldn’t this have been like a perfect television sitcom with a perfect set of couples? Instead we’ve got a monster, an enigma, a man and two women. Lovely.

  She took a bite of roast, and decided to pull the attention away from Richard. “I have a question,” she said. Kenntnis and Cross looked at her. “Why did Grenier resort to a gun? Why not continue to use magic?”

  “Because I took the magical blast and he didn’t have enough juice for another one,” Cross answered.

  “But based on the universe according to you,” Angela shot Kenntnis a quick ironic smile, “couldn’t he have used our fear to recharge?”

  “He did; it’s how he got through the wall,” said Kenntnis, “but a death spell takes real power. He got it by killing those college kids.”

  “You’re not suggesting that every time someone goes postal these guys are behind it?” Angela asked.

  “No, but they certainly take advantage when it happens,” Kenntnis replied dryly.

  Aside from the smacking as Cross wolfed food, they ate in silence for a few minutes.

  Angela found she didn’t like the privacy of her own head right now. She framed another question. “So in the lexicon of mythic monsters what’s Grenier? Or is he just a person?”

  “He’s a person,” Kenntnis answered.

  “Yeah, he’s been carrying water for one of my splinters for years,” Cross grunted and crammed a popover into his mouth.

  “Why? Why him and not another preacher?” Angela asked.

  “Access,” said Kenntnis shortly. “He hooked up with a governor who became president, and then he was in. Given the rightward tilt of recent administrations he’s been able to push the Old Ones’ agenda.”

  “He’s the reason they’re teaching Intelligent Design instead of evolution in six states,” added Cross, but the words were blurred as he continued to masticate popover. Angela watched the homeless god’s throat work as he swallowed and she was reminded of pythons and puppies. “He’s also got a lot of magical juice so it was easy for him to learn the skills.”

  “Are all your … splinters hostile to each other?” Angela asked. “Could we do a little divide and conquer action?”

  “Use your brain, girl,” Cross muttered. “As long as they can get Christians and Muslims, and Jews and Muslims, and Muslims and Hindus, and Protestants and Catholics killing each other they’re in hog heaven. I’m the only wart in their ointment.”

  “So why don’t they just kill you?” Angela asked sweetly. “And don’t call me ‘girl.’”

  “They’re not certain what that would do to the other fragments,” said Kenntnis stepping in as if he sensed she and Cross were about to spat.

  “How do angels fit into all this?” Rhiana asked.

  “Ah, angels.” Kenntnis shook his head. “It was a fallback position for some of the late arrivals. People like our friend here,” he indicated Cross, “had taken most of the god positions, but they found a use for their tardy companions. You get to spread a lot of destruction when you’re an angel.”

  “Or you got to until he,” Cross jerked his chin toward Kenntnis, “came up with the idea of guardian angels.”

  “I never thought of angels as bad,” said Rhiana.

  Angela looked at the girl. “In the Bible the first words out of an angel’s mouth were usually—Don’t be afraid. I’m not here to kill you. Which now makes a whole lot more sense.”

  “Except that usually they were going to kill you,” said Kenntnis dryly.

  Thoughts spinning, Angela leaned back in her chair. “So, is there anything sacred that is good?”

  “No,” Cross said brightly, and helped himself to another slice of beef.

  “So there is no God,” Angela persisted, wanting to be sure she understood the full implications of the day’s revelations.

  Kenntnis dropped his chin to his chest, and pursed his lips thoughtfully. Angela counted her heartbeats as they waited. “I’ve been around a long, long time,” Kenntnis said slowly. “I have yet to see any evidence of one.”

  Exhaustion dragged at his eyelids, and the various aches in various parts of his body throbbed in time to his heartbeat. Richard knew he would need to rest soon, but his apartment was still under repair. That left the Lumina headquarters, and he couldn’t face them yet. No, correct that, he couldn’t face Kenntnis yet, not with what he now knew.

  So he drove aimlessly through the streets of Albuquerque. The light from the street lamps flickered in his fogged windshield as the blast of warm air from the Volvo’s heater struck cold glass.

  He had thrown out the challenge to Kenntnis hoping to be denied, but knowing his conclusions about the man … creature … were correct. It helped if Richard thought of him as Prometheus or Loki or Coyote, but the other names remained; leaden, frightful and horrifying—Satan, Lucifer, the Devil.

  But he saved my life. And his arguments make sense.

  But they would, wouldn’t they? He’s the Great Deceiver.

  The mountains served as a magnet drawing him toward the frowning rock face iced now with new-fallen snow. The storm had entered the city, and he drove through swirling snow as he followed Central Avenue east. To the north Kenntnis, Cross and the women ate and talked in the elegant confines of the penthouse. He assumed they were talking about him.

  Judge Robert Oort’s dry voice echoed in his ears. “Why do you think people would notice you? You have a pretty face that attracts attention, but it’s fool’s gold. As yet you’ve failed to demonstrate that there is either accomplishment or character behind it. You lack the intellectual abilities of your sisters, and you’re not a woman so you can’t rely on beauty and charm the way your mother has. You’d best find something to recommend you.” But now somebody had said he was special.

  But that somebody had admitted he wa
s the embodiment of ancient evil.

  Richard saw the outline of a cross dark against the shifting backdrop of snow. The building came into view, a peaked profile of a church reaching toward the sky like prayerful hands. He didn’t know what denomination it might be, but right then he needed the comfort of religion. Spinning the wheel, he pulled into the parking lot. With the turn of the key the engine died. Snow tapped like fingernails against the windows and body of the car. The engine pinged as it cooled.

  The snow squeaked under the leather soles of his shoes as he walked to the front doors. It wasn’t his church, but the Lutheran church he normally attended was far out on Montgomery and dangerously near the Lumina headquarters. Letters in brass spelled out Saint Luke’s on the Mesa over the door. Richard didn’t have much hope the church would be open, so he had to scramble to keep his balance when the door swung open in response to his tug. It was unusual in these secular and uncertain times to find a church unlocked at night. Richard wanted to take it as a sign, but it seemed a pathetic reed on which to hang his faith.

  The wall at the end of the nave was an expanse of glass. The sloping walls to either side were vast fields of stained glass. The white of the snow beyond the front window gave a pale illumination to the interior of the church. There were tall candles on the draped altar and the scent of frankincense hung in the air. A red light burned over the altar. With the steps and railing separating the nave from the apse and the kneelers in each pew it felt like a Catholic church. Richard glanced down at the hymnals in the holders on the back of the pews and saw the Book of Common Prayer among them. He was in an Episcopalian church.

  He wasn’t a smoker, but Richard carried a lighter in case he found himself stranded during one of his long drives into the New Mexico back country. Because he had been raised in such a fiercely Protestant sect the barrier of the railing held no power for him. He walked to the altar and lit both candles. He then bowed his head and began to pray.

  Dear God, are you there? Do you exist? I don’t know what to believe anymore. Is it presumptuous to ask for a sign? Help me, Dear Lord, I’m losing myself.