99 Gods: Odysseia

by Randall Farmer

  An idea crossed Betrayers mind, and she paused in thought. Would this be too much of a reveal? She hoped not. Well, in the worst case, Jan and Knot were already in her lair, and couldn’t get out unless she let them out. “I can help.”

  Jan stopped and frowned. Knot stood and crept over to Betrayer. “Yes, ma’am,” Knot said. “Doing so might be dangerous for you, though.” And not like the madwoman you’re portraying, Knot didn’t say. Knot was dangerous, and not as hard a woman as Jan.

  “You’ve been trying to bring the Godslayer back with sex, the two of you?” Betrayer said. They both nodded. “How bad is this for you? How bad is it for the two of you to step outside of your normal sexual identities, even for the sake of your guardian Angel?”

  Knot snorted. “That isn’t the problem. Certainly not for me; I’m about as officially Bi as it’s possible to be, and Jan’s no virgin in that department either.” The hesitation before the ‘Jan’, and passing on Knot’s usual ‘Aunt Jan’ title, filled in the details for Betrayer.

  “So, the problem is that you’re from different generations of the Indigo.”

  They both nodded. Jan, to Betrayer’s surprise, actually blushed. “First time? How taboo is this?” This could be nearly as bad as the deaths on the Indigo story, as the Indigo people saw their Mission.

  “First time for us two,” Knot said. “Not the first time among the Indigo. I’m hoping you don’t need the details.”

  “I’m a God. I don’t need the details,” Betrayer said. Jan turned away and Knot just rolled her eyes. “Can you bring her in at all without sex?”

  “Why?” Knot said.

  “So I can feed her willpower.” To the two mortals’ sudden look of blank incomprehension, Betrayer continued with: “Do you think I wouldn’t learn to tune the willpower to your warrior Angel’s magic?” Too big a weakness if she couldn’t, as well as too big an opportunity.

  “Well, we can try.” Jan and Knot held hands and concentrated.

  Nothing.

  Betrayer wasn’t about to attempt to call in the Godslayer on her own, save as a last ditch effort. “You need to let your grief out. The Indigo lives in the deeper emotions, and you can’t afford to hold back, not now. Give me the twins.”

  Jan and Knot ended up on the floor in the pile of blankets, hugging and bawling and concentrating on bringing in the Godslayer. Zach and Alana both woke up and bleated at Betrayer; they always did. Betrayer suspected they didn’t consider her motherly. She sympathized.

  Barely.

  “Okay, I’m here.” The Godslayer’s voice, a faint whisper attached to nothing visible Betrayer could see or sense. Jan and Knot continued to moan and weep in each other’s arms, letting the grief flow.

  “You need to give me something to target.”

  A faint hand, with its middle finger upraised, appeared next to Jan. Betrayer half smiled at the apparition and the sentiment. She fed the finger willpower.

  There was no way this would fool the Godslayer.

  On the other hand, because of her Angelic Mission restrictions, the Godslayer could never reveal this unless deviously prompted. Knot would likely pick up on the Godslayer’s knowledge. Would she care?

  Beyond prediction.

  The Godslayer slowly became visible, and she did so Cheshire Cat style, smile first. Predictable. The Godslayer always used humor to defuse the horrors of her own Angelic life. Once visible, she lustily kissed both Jan and Knot, and wiped the tears off their faces and – with a hairbrush from nowhere – brushed their hair.

  “Why are you wearing a colander on your head?” Jan asked the Godslayer. Betrayer blinked – she hadn’t noticed said colander until Jan spoke. Impossible. She wrote a mental note to send a bug report on the problem to Weeping for Cordoba; this sort of thing could get a God killed.

  “You like my new helmet?” the Godslayer said. “It does put a strain on a person, though.”

  Betrayer groaned, and realized she was now deep inside the Indigo magic. Right now, without straining her free will, she would have a hard time swatting a fly unless it was a monster from Hell, bent on their destruction. Only this wasn’t mind control, but ambient Angel magic, the peace and love and, well, sex variety of magic. Betrayer took mental notes and analyzed the crap out of it; being able to emulate a variety of Angel magic might prove a godsend later. Literally.

  For instance, all one had to do to turn this into ‘turn everyone into a snarling hero’ magic was a simple twist right here. No, this wasn’t the Angel magic of the Host; to Betrayer’s senses there was at best a 75% overlap.

  “Kara?” Knot said, after she recovered to where her brain held actual thoughts again. “You’re sitting on something important. Tell me.”

  Well, that didn’t take long.

  “The floor,” the Godslayer said. “It needs sweeping.” Jan rolled her eyes. “You, Betrayer. I’ve got a deal. Right now, you’re going to keep feeding me willpower until I have enough to send the Clovers to Hell.” Pause. “You know, to an outsider, that’s got to sound real bad.”

  The Godslayer didn’t need the implied ‘or else I’ll spill all your nasty secrets’. Betrayer had had to pull on her old Atlanta territorial links to get enough power to bring back the Godslayer. The Godslayer now knew all of her secrets, likely even where her real body was. The ‘or else’ was obvious.

  Betrayer did as asked without saying a word.

  Jan honked her nose and wiped her eyes a couple minutes later. “It worked, didn’t it?”

  “Everything’s right as rain,” the Godslayer said. Her eyes, intense but not angry, lay heavily on Betrayer.

  “You know Betrayer’s plan now, don’t you?” Knot said.

  Shit fucking dammit!

  “There you go, rover, chasing another car,” the Godslayer said, smiling at Knot. “Too bad you don’t have any idea what you’d do if you ever caught one.”

  “Don’t bother, it isn’t worth the effort,” January said, to Knot. “What I’m worried about is what this is going to do to the two of you divine types. Aren’t the two of you like AC and DC current or something?”

  “More like ham and eggs,” the Godslayer said. “We just need to be careful not to make a hash out of things.”

  Jan groaned and glared at the Godslayer. “You see, Knot, it really isn’t worth the effort.”

  Time for a little distraction. She gave the twins back to Jan and Knot; Alana and Zach quieted down immediately. Zach immediately started pawing at Jan’s right breast. The kid was insatiable. “I’ve managed to glean another dozen enchantments for you to play with, Knot. Don’t thank me all at once, now.” Pause. Knot glared at her. “I need to go give Dave and Elorie another lesson.”

  “Feel free to torture them some for me,” January said, finally getting a bit of her sass back.

  As Betrayer left, she found a message in her mind, courtesy of the Godslayer. “We need to talk privately. I know what you’re doing now, and I approve. I can help you, and if you’re willing to entwine yourself more into our story, I can get you a lot more help.”

  This she would have to think about.

  40. (Dana)

  “How are you holding up, Dana?” Richard asked. “You took a big gamble there.”

  “Uh huh. I’m not sure I know how I feel, other than being my normal freaky self.”

  They had taken a break from the endless negotiations and discussions with the two Angels, now creeping past four hours of tedium intermixed with stark raving terror whenever one of the Angels got firm. Night had fallen and the thick air, humid enough to smother mosquitos, was illuminated only by US 1 streetlights at its big turn a quarter mile to their east. They had promised not to walk far from the beach confab, no longer confined to the pavilion now that night had fallen. To Dana’s surprise, even the Angels had dipped their feet in the water, proclaiming the ocean deliciously wet. They didn’t eat, though.

  This hadn’t been a good day for avoiding notice and not disquieting people. Dana felt exposed,
prideful, a show-off. Her parents wouldn’t approve.

  Richard laughed. “You know, I think I may have gotten more than I bargained for when I proposed to you out of the blue, Dana. There’s a lot in you to love.”

  Dana grunted as she leaned into Richard, happy. “I hope you didn’t mind when I stepped into the negotiations with the Angels. I promised myself I wouldn’t, but…”

  “But they got on your nerves. Don’t worry, Dana. The Host gets on everyone’s nerves. I believe this is their Mission.”

  They walked arm in arm along the beach for another ten minutes, enjoying the break, before Richard headed them back to the negotiations. Dana tried to buoy herself, but a deep fatigue had set in, those old feelings of weariness, the fear the insane war would never end.

  “…and the electronic components are used as a limitation on the tendency to action that all willpower has,” Bob said. Of all things, he gave his standard lecture on the willpower – computer interface to the two Angels, who sat on the beach, rapt in attention. “As the electronic states change, the tendency to action can be modulated, allowing the willpower to be controlled. After too much tedious experimentation, I created a catalog of electronic states and willpower effects. Everything from there’s just been straight engineering.” Dana had heard this all before, far too many times, and she was glad she had missed the first five minutes of the lecture.

  “Amazing,” Ubiquitous Truth said. “Not only for what you’ve done as such a young God, but because this is an event unforeseen at Apotheosis.”

  “So, can you acknowledge that Bob is special?” Persona said. She had gotten over her reticence and anger at the Angelic Host hours ago, and after she had, the two Angels had quit with the insults. The Angels exuded holiness (which, Dana realized, could be faked), but also because they could weave a spell with their words to move the hearts of two of their gravest enemies, Persona and Progress. Prickly as they were, they did carry the peace of God Almighty with them.

  “Yes, I can,” Ubiquitous Truth said.

  “I wish to remain within my reservations,” Despiser of War said. “New and amazing this discovery may be, but you have already used this in war. I find it difficult to trust and treat as special a God who designs new ways to fight wars.”

  “I agree,” Bob said. “But can’t you see into my heart? Like you, I hate war. If war didn’t come to me, I wouldn’t fight, and as you Angels say, self-defense is everyone’s right. Have I ever been someone who proposed attacks on others?”

  “I see a kindred spirit, yes,” Despiser of War said. “That is why I chose to appear here today. Yet you are not fully formed. An incomplete God can change. You could choose to change; events could force you to change. Speak to me as a fully formed adult God about peace and we will have more to discuss.”

  “If I changed so much, I would regard that as a betrayal of myself,” Bob said.

  The two Angels looked at each other, a gesture Dana had come to understand was one of private mental discussion.

  “We have agreed on the price,” Ubiquitous Truth said.

  “Which price?” Dana said.

  “The remainder of the price for the lifting of the anathema on Nessa Binglehauser, Ken Bolnick and those who have fallen under their spell. The price is simple yet profound: the entity you know of as Bob Personason must take a true Territorial God name and declare his maturity.”

  Dana winced. Richard had warned her of this way back when he had taken back his Richard Yoshitome birth name. However, the warning didn’t assuage her anger at their request. The Angels had already extracted a heavy price, making Bob formally accept as part of his Mission to work to return the Watchers to God. She had known they wanted more, but this offended her. “This request is backwards,” Dana said. “We’re trying, as part of our mission, perhaps even our Mission, to humanize the Gods. Getting them to take human names is part of our Mission. What you’re doing forces him away from humanity.”

  “Oh, that explains why you’re so hot about this,” Persona said.

  “You hadn’t figured that out? Damn, you’re dim,” Progress said. Progress still resisted the holy peace of the Angels, which Dana found metaphorically appropriate in the extreme.

  Persona shrugged and didn’t snipe back, evident distaste on her lips.

  Oh, and of course progress is never popular, Dana decided, continuing her metaphorical adventure.

  “We’re not interfering in your Mission,” Despiser of War said. “However, basing your skein of action upon the Congregation of an incomplete God is doomed to failure. Thus, we are, in our price, agreeing in a tacit fashion to help you, hastening the day when the entity you know of as Bob becomes a fully mature God and can take this burden on in a true and real fashion, following the lead of others.”

  “Who, then, is the right God?” Dana said. The first God to take on a human name in public.

  “You of all mortals know the answer; your instincts were correct from the very start.”

  She should have realized. “Portland.”

  “The change of names cannot be from only one, but for success she must lead. If you desire success.”

  Save us from the favors of Angels.

  “I think…”

  “Dana,” Bob said, interrupting her with a plaintive plea. “I accept the offer. I’ll take the name Columbia.”

  “Columbia it is,” Ubiquitous Truth said. “Your name must be known publicly. We will use your proper Name in our announcement to the other Gods when we lift the anathema on the Telepaths.”

  “Okay,” Bob said.

  “In that case, we shall declare this discussion over, and let you return to your efforts,” Despiser of War said. “With luck, you may even live through them.”

  The two Angels vanished before anyone could say ‘goodbye’.

  “The Divine Compact isn’t owned by any one God,” Richard said.

  Beijing, one of the mainstays of the Tradition Gods, had agreed to speak to them. He sat at the formal dining room table, a cup of tea in front of him. Persona had joined Richard and Dana, but Progress and Bob – in private, he was still Bob to Dana, the same way Orlando was Richard to her – worked elsewhere on the waste-of-time food machine project, leaving them to the late morning diplomacy.

  “This is known, but the City of God claims to own the Compact,” Beijing said. He, in his projection, dressed Western style. There had been some rumblings inside the Tradition movement about anti-Western-ism as one of Tradition’s goals, but although the ideological center of the movement, Confucianism, had pressed hard for anti-Westernism, the others in the now disparate movement shot down the idea. “Because of this claim, we cannot use the Compact.”

  “The Compact is a tool,” Richard said. “Like projections. Would you turn away from the use of projections because the City of God uses them?”

  “We dispute their ownership of that technique.”

  “Then do the same with the Divine Compact. If all of Tradition agrees to the Compact, then your weight will be a strong counterbalance to the City of God. You might be able to take their perceived ownership of the Divine Compact away from them.”

  “You would support us in this? You would agree not to use our acceptance of the Divine Compact against us, saying we had become pawns of the City of God?”

  “I would be willing to sign a Divine Compact contract stating so,” Richard said. “So would my associates.”

  “Then I see promise in this. I for one, in the governance of my territory, need such a tool. The Territorials of Tradition will all likely agree with me, and I am sure we…”

  Beijing stopped when a projection flew through the ceiling – Boise, complete with the ripe odor of unwashed body and a small cloud of fleas.

  “Beijing. So sorry to interrupt, but urgent news,” Boise said. “Orlando, you’re about to be attacked.”

  Beijing shook his head. “Let us table the discussion about your group’s joining Tradition for later. I will relay the offer you have state
d to my peers.” Beijing’s projection vanished.

  “Boise! What are you doing here and why are you warning us of a City of God attack?” Dana said.

  “Oh? You didn’t get the word?” Boise said. “When the Host lifted the anathema against Nessa’s group and by association the anathema against your group yesterday, I told Dubuque to get his thugs out of my Territory. I’m back as a full independent.”

  Richard licked his lips. “We didn’t know,” he said. “I’ve been too busy to check up on such things, and I don’t have your instinctive knowledge for what’s going on.”

  “Few do,” Boise said, and scratched. He appeared even more decrepit and prophet-in-the-wilderness than before, if his projection reflected his current state. His ratty beard stretched down to his knees now. “I’ve been working on trying to come up with Paladin-thwarting methods, and I’ve got a few preliminary ideas on…”

  “Paladins?”

  “Dubuque’s new troops. You didn’t know about them?” Boise gawked. “What happened to your spy network?”

  “Dubuque shut them down weeks ago,” Richard said. Yes, Boise’s retreat from day to day affairs had gotten worse.

  “Oh, dear,” Boise said. “You’re in grave danger. These Paladins are living enchantments, and they’re individually more powerful than anything you’ve ever…”

  Sonic booms rang out overhead, followed by an immense willpower surge that banished Boise’s projection and made Dana’s eyes water.

  “Some warning!” Dana said, and ran. She had a defense to organize.

  The three enemy God projections – Dubuque, Santa Fe and Worcester – hung back several miles and floated two miles overhead, guarded by nine unimpressive Natural Supported. The three projections glowered distantly over the water, the size of skyscrapers. They provided the transportation for the Paladins, but didn’t support the battle directly.

  Dana identified 33 Paladins, all men or at least wearing male enchanted bodies. Given the name, she had expected knights in shining armor, but these were more Power Ranger or Transformer style entities. So far they revealed only short range powers, but if they got close they ripped people apart with their armored hands.