What the fuck?
Betrayer, annoyed, floated up to ceiling level and went after the lot of them with territory backed blue helixes. Given their weaponry, she had the urge to cackle evilly, raise her right hand, and spray them with white lightning, doing the Evil Emperor routine. She didn’t bother with that bit of kitsch now. None of these would survive.
She didn’t stop until all the Supported died, save for Shawn. Even after their deaths she continued her attack until she had ashed their heads. Shawn went to his knees, begging for his life, begging to know why she singled him out. Betrayer didn’t bother to answer. Instead, she froze him in place, drained his mind of all useful information and then vaporized him.
The information rolled in her mind, all the information on Dubuque’s dealings she, as Leo, hadn’t been able to discover. Dubuque kept his Telepath captives ignorant of the City of God’s true business, or at least as much as possible.
Some of what she learned was bad. The worst was that the motherfucker Lodz was only a few bleached-blond hairs away from perfecting his instant soldiers, what he now called his Paladins.
Betrayer blew a hole through the roof of the basement stronghold, collected her cached information and one carefully preserved willpower sword. On the way out she collapsed the stronghold down on the charred remains of the Dubuque Supported. Then she slagged the factory and fled into the place of projections, after sending her loot home by a guided fly.
Dubuque’s army of Supported arrived two minutes later.
“What I did in Chattanooga I could do to you and yours,” Betrayer said, less than an hour later. Akron paled; the news had already hit. “However, if you want to avoid such a calamitous fate, send your Supported guards away. I’m just a projection, you’re a real Territorial God. There’s nothing I can do to you permanent-wise. I just want to talk.”
“I’m a neutral,” Akron said. They stood in one of Akron’s studio kitchens, filled with spotless stainless steel pans and utensils, and surrounded by lights to illuminate the domestic magnificence for the cameras. Supported, mostly women dressed in elegant upper middle class WASP couture, watched with dropped jaws.
“Oh, really,” Betrayer said, deadpan. “They call you a Living Saint these days. You lick Dubuque’s cock when he says ‘tongue’. You worship him!” Spittle spray, spittle spray. “You’ve become far more evil than you realize; you’ve betrayed more than even I.” The last ‘I’ she said with an amplified deep voice, loud enough to shiver dust from the rafters above the studio kitchen. “Now, decide. Are we going to talk or are you going to see your friends needlessly die?”
Akron, domestic goddess extraordinaire, had turned her friends and social circle into her Supported and her only Grade Ones into specialists in the gentler divine arts. Hell, after surreptitiously examining the talents of Akron’s Supported, Betrayer got a sudden urge to have them design her a real divine costume. Considering the fact Nessa had designed her current costume, in exchange for information on Dubuque’s lair, nearly anything would be better.
Too bad the information payment Betrayer supplied Nessa had been wrong and vastly overstated, part of an ongoing project to convince Nessa that she and her gang would fail if they tried to free Alt and the other captives. A pack of lies, of course – but since Betrayer led the Telepaths away from danger, they hadn’t bothered to challenge the data.
Telepaths weren’t heroic in the slightest unless cornered. Leading them away from danger was child’s play.
Akron raised her hands and turned to her Supported guards. “Angie, get everyone out of here. Evacuate the entire building.” She turned to Betrayer. “I’m not talking until my people are clear.”
“Fine by me,” Betrayer said. She sat down on a high kitchen stool opposite Akron and glared evilly at her, working in a nasty stealth attack constructed to be unnoticeable. Akron began to sweat and became far more uncomfortable. Betrayer kept her projection’s armored hands clenched tight on the counter, as if she was angry, tense and an inch away from killer violence.
“Okay, they’re safe,” Akron said. “What do you want to talk about, Betrayer?”
“Dubuque.”
“What about Him?”
“You’ve been reduced to treating Dubuque as your sole intermediary to God. You’re no longer allowed independent contact with the Angelic Host. The governments in your territory have converted to City of God rule, which means Dubuque’s rule. You’ve even acquiesced to Dubuque’s latest demand that the history books in schools be changed to demonize the fallen US Constitution into a blasphemous thing. What about this situation has to do with neutrality? How can you fucking stand looking into a mirror!”
Akron looked like she wanted to be anywhere else but here. “I’m protecting my people.”
“The City of God is becoming a totalitarian theocratic state that will enslave your people,” Betrayer said. “Your protection isn’t worth shit. Do you want to know what you’re going to take up the ass next?”
“What do you mean?”
“One of Dubuque’s Supported in Chattanooga was privy to Dubuque’s plans; that is, the plans of the City of God. I know their plans, now.” Betrayer smiled.
“What plans are these?”
“Dubuque and Verona have commissioned three new books to be written and appended to the Holy Bible: Angels, Dubuque and Verona. All Holy Bibles must have them; when taught in school all children will grow up believing these. In them, they twist the words of the Old and New Testaments into supporting the idea the Bible prophesied the City of God. They’re doing to Christianity what Christianity did to Judaism.” Betrayer didn’t bother adding that the Koran would also be appended and subordinated to the New Testament, a side issue she decided would speak for itself. “After they finish this project, they plan ever more little steps. You’re the frog in the slowly heating pot of water, Akron. Eventually you’re going to be cooked.”
Akron nodded. “I see this,” she said. She did and she understood, one of the reasons why Betrayer chose her. “But what can I do? I’m not a battle God, a religious God or a political God. If I try and block any of these changes, I’ll be overwhelmed.”
“You’ll have help, my help if you want,” Betrayer said, and rubbed her hands together, and altering her mood-attack on Akron to reflect dread and sickness. “Orlando would ally with you in an instant.” Sweetness and light wafted through the mood-attack. “You would even gain the support of the Telepaths from their Eklutna lair.” More sweetness and light through the mood-attack. Akron’s eyes lit up, but Betrayer acted as if she didn’t notice. “If you convert back, Montreal will as well. Then you can work on Portland; once you have Portland you can then convert Worcester.” Fat chance of that. Worcester had backslid into worshippers and fallen far too far under Dubuque’s mental control for anything or anyone to save her.
“You’re talking divine war again.”
“You’ll have my necessary support in that.”
“You? I’m not about to trust you with my security, or trust you not to change sides,” Akron said, true ire in her voice.
“The past? An unfortunate event, unavoidable,” Betrayer said. “I have my needs, and I don’t work for free.” She rubbed her hands together again, and sent more sickness across the mood-attack.
Akron shook her head. “It’s too late for me, Betrayer. I must refuse.”
“Then you will fall in the end to your predictable and inevitable death!” Betrayer said, and stood, darkening her face and upping the amperage on her glowing eyes. Akron shrunk back. “Bah! Destroying you with my nearly omnipotent powers of war would be too good an end for you.” She turned her back and took two steps. “I’ll let Dubuque destroy you, piece by piece, until there’s nothing left of you but a hopeless feeling of eternal agony awaiting.”
Betrayer stalked out of Akron’s office and fled to the sky.
Heh.
Betrayer, as Leo, called the Telepaths together an hour later in the meeting room she had long sinc
e protected from Dubuque’s interference. They sat around a conference table like some official committee of chaos and disruption. All of the crew, from Alton Freudenberger, the Recruiter, at the top to Pat Duncan, a Mindbound bodyguard at the bottom, realized Leo was Betrayer’s real body. “We’ve got a problem,” Betrayer said. She sat at the head of the table. Of course.
“Which one?” Alt said. He clenched his fists and stalked around Betrayer’s Leo body. So much for sitting. “You deliberately told Akron where Nessa and her pod were hiding out! Why?” Alt had a brainwave recently, believing now that groups of Telepaths, once stable, developed unconscious dolphin-like group minds. Crazy. Just what one would suspect from a Telepath. Betrayer had looked and hadn’t found a thing.
“Because Nessa’s being an ass and refuses to leave Eklutna, that’s why,” Betrayer said. She didn’t have many secrets from this crew. She had long ago given up trying to keep them out of her head, at least as far as her daily activities were concerned.
Her explanation at least mollified Alt for the moment. He didn’t like Nessa one bit…unless you counted his unrequited love for her. In his fantasies he always arrived at the last minute to save Nessa from her insanity.
“Well, shit, you can’t let them get attacked,” Nicole said. “Unless you want them to haunt you as ghosts forever.” All the Telepaths had their quirks. Nicole’s ghosts weren’t the worst. Walter, their illusion master, had backslid his way into delusions, believing he was a millionaire, they were his servants, and that a vast government conspiracy was out to kill him. Apparently Nessa’s quickie mind-fix to make him sane and useful hadn’t been permanent.
“I don’t want them attacked, I want them out of there,” Betrayer said. “That’s my next stop, going to Eklutna to explain my latest betrayal.” An explanation she suspected would be most painful and leave her feeling more like a douche than usual.
Alt continued to pace. “Okay, what’s our real problem?”
“Lodz has essentially perfected his new breed of Supported soldiers, his Paladins. Or at least that’s what Dubuque’s spies within Verona’s organization reported.”
“Crap! Too early!” Alt said. Alt couldn’t access the Place of Time directly, but Betrayer had introduced Alt to her Future construct – mentally – and he made ample use of her. This trick meshed well with his Recruiter talents and the collaboration between the two of them helped Betrayer a lot.
“Yah. However, there’s a decent chance Dubuque’s been fed some misinformation,” Betrayer said. “Alt, I want you to find a way to hint this to Dubuque. Then I want you to help Dubuque find out what’s going on.”
Alt started to sweat. “His venerated eminence isn’t going to like this at all.”
Betrayer nodded. “Yes, this is a risk, but if we get Paladin action early we’re toast. Orlando and the Kid God will be destroyed within a month, if not sooner.”
“Which ends all hope,” Alt said. “Shit. I’ll get our pod on this right away. I just don’t know how.”
“That’s easy,” Nicole said. “Javier and my ghosts can do this if Dubuque lets us.”
“Don’t go volunteering me!” Javier said. He and his whole-body reek huddled under a blanket in the corner, improbably cold. He was aging faster than he should, for no known reason, although Javier thought it was because he needed to be living outdoors instead of in a church dungeon. Yes, all these Telepaths had their quirks.
Nicole laughed. “I think I can get you outside…”
“You work on this,” Betrayer said. The Telepaths, slow as ever, would take days to come up with a plan. She would probably have to prod them several more times before they got going for real. “I’m going to go brace Nessa. Wish me luck.”
Eklutna hadn’t changed, save that Nessa had attracted a small but fractious crew of Indigo types to her, a random smattering of the first and second generation. Betrayer hid, waiting for the right moment to spring out and make her statement. Nessa noticed Betrayer’s presence but didn’t do anything, unworried because Betrayer’s projection didn’t have enough power to concern her. Steamed, Nessa stalked around the trailers, venting insanity and merging her mind with small animals.
Nessa muttered curses and stalked into Uffie’s crowded trailer, where the now-larger Eklutna crew gathered, too many people in too small a space. Something was wrong, Betrayer realized. She took the time to scan the vicinity and make sure the world’s pre-eminent troublemakers, Satan, John Lorenzi and Persona, were still safely ensconced somewhere else. She found them in their own trailer, which also leaked tension and argument. No, this wasn’t a good day for anyone’s calmness.
“Okay, I’m here,” Nessa said, after she slammed open the trailer door and stalked inside. She squeezed onto the undersized couch next to an old woman, Nessa’s mother, and took one of the infants from her arms. “How’s my little Alana?”
“Distracting you from your job, that’s what she is,” Nessa’s mother said. She was a razor-stropped gray haired bitch who reminded Betrayer of her last landlady, before Betrayer had joined the Marines. The one who wanted rent in cash and docked you as overdue if you were a minute past her deadline. “They convinced me, I’ll have you know.” Nessa’s mother glared at Dave Estrada for a moment. Dave glared back, about as stiff-backed as Betrayer had ever seen the guy. He looked like his day had been about as bad as Betrayer’s.
Nessa shrugged and handed Alana back to her mother.
“If any of you jerks think you can pry me out of here to go gallivanting off doing idiotic things, you’re mistaken,” Nessa said. She glared around the room, daring anyone to talk.
Nobody said a word. Betrayer hadn’t realized how nasty and non-fun-loving Nessa could get when she got annoyed.
Then she understood. Nessa, somehow, was blocking her socks! Without her twin consciences she was flying solo, which didn’t inspire Betrayer’s confidence at all. Especially since most of Betrayer’s agreements with Nessa had been with her socks.
“Good,” Nessa said. “Now that that’s taken care of, lets…”
Dave cleared his throat.
“Yes?”
“You’re telepathically intimidating everyone into being quiet,” Dave said. “I thought you said you wouldn’t…”
“I’m doing what I need to do!” Nessa said, a full-throated scream. She leapt out of her chair and pushed her face up to Dave’s. “I’m protecting…”
“You’re turning your back on your own mainstay, logic,” Dave said, standing. “You of all people understand the disasters implicit in letting your emotions get…”
“Back the fuck off!”
“No,” Dave said.
Betrayer’s projection almost spoofed itself from the backwash of one of Nessa’s telepathic detonations. Everybody in the room moaned, including Ken. Both babies started crying. Elorie Portath, Dave’s spouse, slumped to the side, her head in her hands, screaming “Stop!”
Dave, the target of Nessa’s telepathic blast, didn’t budge. “We have three reasons to leave here, Nessa. First reason…”
“Look what you made me do!” Nessa said. “Shit, Dave. Don’t set me off like this!”
Dave didn’t back down. “Calm down and listen, please. You can do this.”
Betrayer took mental notes. She hadn’t realized the eminently squishy Dave had a spine, though given his previous real-world success as an entrepreneur, there needed to be one inside of him somewhere. She needed to work his talents into her plans. People like him were useful.
“Fine,” Nessa said. She smiled to the appalled and frightened people in the trailer. “I shouldn’t have exploded, especially with you others in the room. It’s unfair, and I apologize.” She turned back to Dave. “I’m not apologizing to
you, though.” Nessa still blocked her socks.
Dave didn’t back down. “First reason to leave: Santa Fe has captured a member of the Indigo, a friend of your mother and someone you’ve met, and he’ll learn too much about them if we don’t rescue her. Only we can.”
Ken sent.
Nessa tensed. Betrayer didn’t know anything about an Indigo kidnaping and decided to bone up in the Place of Time. She trusted Ken’s hunches a lot.
“Second reason: Orlando’s trying to attract our attention.” As she, Betrayer, had arranged. She snickered. “We need to go and see what he wants, as he’s the first Territorial God willing to flaunt the anathema placed on us by the Angelic Host.” Nessa shook her head. “Don’t give me this shit. You got the same feeling about it as I did. You’re just trying to deny your own hunch in a futile effort to keep your children safe.”
“The effort isn’t futile!” More moaning from the audience.
Dave shook his head. “Third reason: John, Bais and Reed are getting ready to leave and go confront the Watchers. Elorie and I stumbled into something earlier today, a projection of Sorrow, here. Sorrow, appearing as the Virgin Mary to John. John’s all shook up, and I’m not much better. I talked to Bais later and she’s convinced the time is right.”
Betrayer, who knew damned little about the Watchers, shivered. If the Watchers began to meddle in the greater world on a regular basis, that would change far too many things, none for the better. They were poison.
Nessa put her hands on her hips. “So?”
Willfully dense.
Events clicked in Betrayer’s mind: this was her cue. She stepped through a trailer wall and powered up her projection, striding over to stand next to Dave. Epharis, the mother of the Diana person needing rescuing from Santa Fe, shrieked and hid her face in the chest of Jurgen Lowezski, her husband. Dave gulped, frozen in place and unable to speak.
99 Gods: Odysseia Page 9