April said, “Did she say where we’re going?”
“To me? Of course not. Anyway, get ready. Don’t waste time.”
He left.
“Pretty ominous,” said Kevin.
“Maybe,” said April. “But if she was planning to kill us she probably wouldn’t have asked me to pack my stuff.”
“Good point. Any guesses where she might be taking us?”
“Not really. Probably something to do with that message she got. Maybe she wants to show off that machine of yours to her mother”
“But why bring you guys?”
“Don’t know. That’s the main part that scares me.”
“Have you ever met her mother?”
“No. But they talk about her all the time. She’s in charge of everything, I think.”
Kevin spent the remaining minutes mentally weighing the pros and cons of this particular development, and ultimately decided it was probably fortuitous. They were moving him out of his cell, and The Mask was in the mix now. There was a chance for something unexpected to happen, and chaos was his friend. Predictable hours, resting comfortably in a cell weren’t going to get him out of this.
- - -
Just as promised, it took about an hour overall for Myra to show up.
She was carrying a black suitcase, and had her brother with her, but no security guards.
She went to April’s cell first, opened the door and lifted little Andy forcibly with her free arm, setting him down on her hip. April uttered a few words of complaint, but then Myra threatened to leave her behind and take the boy away without her. After that April stopped talking and did what she was told.
Checkmate, thought Kevin as all dreams of some last minute escape attempt immediately fled from his mind. With the boy in her grip, Myra could crush his little bones just by squeezing hard, and it wouldn't take her more than half-a-second to do it. The time might come at some point where he could try to run or fight, but this wasn't it.
Tobias opened Kevin’s door and then stood over him forebodingly as he exited the cell.
“Are you going to behave Mister Tanaka?” said Myra. “Or am I going to kill little Andy here?”
“Obviously, I’m not gonna try anything.”
She smiled. “Good to hear. Follow me. No sudden moves or Tobias might take your head off.”
Kevin had expected Myra would lead them up the stairs and out to a vehicle, so he was surprised when they stopped in the room with the big silvery ring.
Surprised, and scared, and also fascinated. Because suddenly he felt sure they were about to go on a much longer trip than he’d expected.
Myra told them to wait while she went over to fiddle with the machinery lining the wall. She turned several dials, peered through something that resembled a telescope, and then pulled a big lever in the center of one of the control panels.
There was a loud crack, and then tendrils of silent blue lightning began to dance along the edge of the ring.
Myra, apparently finished with whatever adjustments she was making, came over to stand beside him and said, "This is what we call a traveling ring. You ever heard the term?"
He shook his head.
"It's a very special piece of equipment—a miracle, really. It allows for instantaneous travel over vast distances. You can even travel to another universe with this thing. There are really no limits to how far you can go if you have everything arranged properly. We're going to a place very far away from here, but it will only take a few seconds to get there."
The lightning intensified, crossing the ring like giant blue spokes, forming a pattern like a living, flashing, spinning spiderweb. And then there was a bright flash right at the center of the ring, almost painful to the eyes, and when it faded the lightning was gone. In its place was a black opening with wet sides that seemed to be literally made from spongy cratered flesh.
April was staring into the blackness, her face pale, and her mouth hanging open in shock.
Kevin wondered if he looked the same.
Probably.
He was shaking. A lot. Which was kind of embarrassing.
Myra stepped into the opening, and the sides squeezed against her and Andy, sucking them inside rather suddenly with a squishy sound, as if they were being digested.
April, obviously terrified for her brother, ran in behind Myra without a second of hesitation.
Kevin, though, found himself inclined to hesitate quite a bit.
In fact, he probably would’ve stayed there forever, trying to work up the nerve to walk into that weird tunnel, but then he felt Tobias’s hand in the small of his back, pushing, and there was no resisting that push.
One step, two steps, three steps, and then his feet sank into the wet meaty floor of the tunnel, and the sides grabbed him, covering him with what felt like slime, squeezing down on him, wrapping his body in a perfect, warm, moist darkness.
Time stopped, and Kevin’s mind went blank as he waited to be born again, elsewhere.
- - -
Tobias watched the Asian shapeshifter vanish through the portal. Then he went to the machine panel and watched the little light which indicated someone was still in transit. Went it flicked off, he powered down the machine, and let out a long sigh of relief. He was happy to have the place to himself for a while. When Myra was around she always made him nervous. Truthfully, most people were a mild irritant to him. He preferred solitude.
Tonight, I will make myself alone, and be here in the dark with my thoughts.
Yes, that would be just the thing.
Immediately, he hunted down the remaining mercenaries, and sent them away—he had no need for them at the moment. There was nothing he couldn't handle on his own, and their presence put him on edge. After they drove away, he went to the storage closet where they kept boxes full of snack foods. He bagged up two containers of peanut butter crackers, and two containers of snack cakes, and two six packs of canned cola.
Not amazing food, but it would nourish him for a night.
After that he returned to the church proper, and he sat in the dark among the pews with the lights off, letting his mind wander, and contemplating the sweet silence.
PART 7 - TIME TO KILL
1 - Roundabout
Malcolm woke around lunch time, and found Vivienne still asleep.
Surprisingly he wasn’t angry with her. She’d done some sort of Godly mystical thing to knock him out, something quite powerful and interesting. Clearly white magic, though, in this case, and not meant to hurt him. No harm no foul. More than anything he was curious about her. What sort of powers did she have? Apparently, being confined to a human body had weakened her to some extent, based on what she’d told him, but she still had some pretty serious mojo, obviously.
He considered waking her, but decided it was best to get out and get his shopping done while he had a good chance. If he woke her she might decide he needed a little more rest, and that just wouldn’t do at all.
- - -
The Walmart was only a 10 minute drive from the motel. The day was beautiful—warm with clear skies. He listened to classic rock radio as he drove, and he felt quite good overall, despite the hideous sort of day he’d just endured.
It wasn’t until he arrived at the parking lot of the Walmart that he noticed something unsettling. His connection to the drones seemed different. He could still feel them, but their minds were very quiet. The signal was weak.
And when he tried to reach out to them for an update, he couldn’t get any response at all. There was something wrong; something sort of like radio interference.
It bothered him. A lot. And he would’ve taken the time to investigate it further, but he’d left Vivienne alone, and she didn’t seem entirely stable at this stage. He needed to get back as quick as he could.
- - -
Ten minutes later, Malcolm was inside the store, wandering the aisles when he suddenly realized he had totally forgotten what size Vivienne wore.
He thought about
just trying to estimate, but then he happened upon a female employee who looked to be about Vivienne’s size and asked her for help. She suggested—wisely, he thought—that it would be better to buy clothes that weren't very fitted, and helped him pick a few things out.
Overall the shopping trip took less than an hour, and it felt good to spend some time on something relatively unimportant.
As he was leaving he went to the first fast food joint he came across, and ordered a couple of bags full of pure junk to take back with him.
He had no idea what sort of food Vivienne liked, so he selected a wide variety of things.
When he pulled up to the window to receive his food, the man who stood there was not wearing a restaurant uniform. He was tall, blond, unbelievably handsome, with broad shoulders and shining white teeth. He wore an expensive pale gray suit, and had rings on several of his fingers.
Malcolm was a bit taken aback by the sight of the man, who certainly didn’t look like he belonged at the window of a fast food joint.
And even more taken aback by the sudden feeling that he was standing in front of a waterfall of invisible energy; a bright blasting sort of energy that nearly took his breath way.
What the hell is this?
The blond fellow leaned forward, handed out a couple of bags.
Malcolm, unsure of how he ought to respond, just took them, and stared at the man in shock.
“Say thank you,” said the man with a vaguely Scandinavian accent. “It’s only polite.”
“Who are you?”
The man grinned wickedly. “You could never understand that… Tell the Lady, who has always been a champion in her heart, that I admire what she’s doing, and tell her hello for me.”
“I can’t really do that if I don’t know who you are, can I?”
“You can call me Bruno. She’ll know who you mean.” The man smiled, and added, “Enjoy your food, Englishman. I hear they have delicious French fries here.” Then he closed the window, and walked away.
2 - Keys
Malcolm, completely unsatisfied with the fellow’s quick, enigmatic exit, parked his car and marched right into the restaurant. But of course the blond man was gone, and no one who worked there had ever seen or heard of this Bruno, nor anyone that even looked like him, in their lives.
By the time Thackery left, people were giving him glances as if he were a grade-a nutter. Which, he supposed, wasn’t a bad guess, even if it wasn’t entirely accurate.
It wasn’t until he was back in the van that his mind settled enough for him to think logically about the whole encounter. Most likely there had been a purpose to the man’s appearance. Something other than providing vague well-wishes.
Malcolm glanced over at the two bags full of food, and suddenly he knew.
Of course!
- - -
Thackery found the white box at the bottom of the second bag he searched, underneath two hamburgers and a container of spicy chicken strips.
It was exactly like the box that Vivienne had given him at the airport—the one with Simone’s mysterious, super-duper-magical God weapon in it—only this one was much smaller, about the size of a change purse.
He didn’t dare try to open it; didn’t really even want to touch it. So he just put it back in the bag, piled the food back in on top of it, and drove to the motel.
- - -
Vivienne met him at the door, and she looked a little better. Her eyes were more lively, her movements crisper. The room smelled of flowers and honey and every sort of wonderful thing.
“Here’s your clothes,” he said, handing her the bag.
“Shoes?”
He nodded. “Got a few different sizes because I forgot what you said. Spent a little more money than I intended, but you should be able to find something that fits.”
“Good,” she said, then hurried off to the bathroom.
“There’s more we need to talk about,” he called out to her. “Something happened while I was out.”
“Tell me after I get dressed,” she said.
He sighed, sat down on the edge of his bed.
The TV was on, filling the room with the nostalgic sound of the Price is Right theme music.
He glanced up and saw Bob Barker standing on stage, holding a mic. It looked like an episode from the late 1970s.
Malcolm watched without paying too much attention, wondering what channel was showing vintage game-show episodes. Seemed like a good gimmick to him because game shows were definitely more fun to watch back then.
A few minutes later, they went to a commercial for Kraft miracle margarine, and then another for Excedrin. Both commercials were just as old as the episode.
Malcolm decided it was all a bit weird, so he reached for the controller and changed the channel.
He found a daytime soap he didn’t recognize, but it was definitely from the 1970s.
He flicked through several other channels and everything he found was vintage.
What?
Vivienne emerged from the bathroom, wearing the clothes he’d brought her, and looking quite fetching, he thought.
He asked, “What’s going on with the TV?”
She arched an eyebrow. “What do you mean?”
“Have a look,” he said.
She walked over and watched for about a minute as he flicked through the channels.
She said nothing, so finally he just asked her, “Do you know why the TV seems to be stuck in 1977?”
“Probably a sign from the heavens,” she said. “Like an omen. Sometimes these things just happen.”
“An omen? For what purpose?”
“Because I’m here. Things get weird when gods roam the earth. It’s like a warning to the people around me, to let them know that something significant is happening, and that they should pay attention. The world is responding to my presence, like an organism would react to a disease—it’s trying to make a big fuss in its own way. Turn the TV off and on. It’ll probably fix it.”
He turned it off and on, and it did, in fact, fix it.
“So you’re like a disease?” he asked.
She nodded. “In some ways. We don’t belong here—especially not in physical form. Of course, we’re here constantly anyway.”
“Yes, I’ve noticed. Speaking of which, I think I just ran into another one of you lot at the fast food joint. A fellow who called himself Bruno.”
There was a look of real surprise on her face for a moment. Then she smiled as if greatly amused. “Bruno… Yes… I guess he can use that name if he chooses to. What did he want?”
“Oh he wished you well, said he’d always admired your courage, or something to that effect. Called you a champion.”
“Well isn’t that sweet?”
“Yes, he was a real charmer. He also had a little something to pass along, slipped it into my food bag. I think he thought he was being clever.”
“What did he send?”
“Another one of those infernal boxes, like the one you gave me for Simone.”
“Let me see.”
- - -
He tossed food out of the bag onto the bed to get to the bottom, then let Vivienne examine the box while he began rapidly consuming one of the hamburgers.
“I guess it’s for you,” he said.
She shook her head. “No. This is definitely one of the Keys of Heaven, and Gods can’t use those. They’re made to be used by people.”
“Who’s it for then? Something else for Simone?”
“I doubt it,” she said, and tossed the box onto his lap.
“Huh?”
“This is for you. Probably.”
He laughed. “Me? Are you joking?”
“Not joking at all.”
“But why on earth would anyone want to give me one of the Keys of Heaven?”
“Not just anyone. Most likely I am the one who arranged this—my higher self, I guess, since I don’t remember doing it. And as for why, probably so that you can use it. To help me with t
his problem.”
“Just a temporary thing then?”
“That’s not how it usually works. The Keys are usually forever. You take them and you’re life changes. Permanently.”
“The Keys aren’t for the likes of me.”
“What do you mean?”
“I’m no lightweight when it comes to psychic potential, but I’m no superstar either.”
“You’re an intuitive, right?”
He nodded.
“How many intuitives in The Order of Merlin are more gifted than you?”
“Probably a handful.”
“Probably? Have you ever actually met another intuitive who was better? Have you met any other agent of The Order with more natural clairvoyance?”
“Depends on how you define that… I’ve met several with better control. My intuitions are clear sometimes, and usually very accurate, but they’re also entirely random. It’s just pure luck whether I get anything or not in a given situation, and more often than not by the time I do, it’s nearly to late to make much use of it.”
“Still, you’re a very strong intuitive, you have a wide channel into the deep workings of The Stream.”
“How do you know?”
“I’m a God. This is the kind of stuff I know about. You have plenty of raw strength, trust me. And also, much weaker men than you have been given Keys before. Sometimes it’s less about muscle, and more about particular talents, and what Keys match those talents—basically, much like fishing, it’s not the size of the rod, it’s how you wiggle your worm.”
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