Anything but Ordinary

by Nicola Rhodes

  Tamar’s hand flew to her mouth. ‘Oh, no!’

  ‘Right. Let’s get out of here before they catch us.’

  ‘But the deleted files …?’

  ‘Not our problem,’ said Denny with unusual callousness.

  ‘But Denny …’

  ‘Serves the sods right,’ said Denny. ‘They tried to delete us.’

  ‘I know, but …’

  ‘Look,’ Denny relented, ‘the deleted files aren’t actually running. There are no Meittlepolyattlepusses roaming around out there, I only reran the current files. All the clerks will have to do is delete them again. ‘It’s all right really. Just a bit of extra work for them, you can’t say they didn’t ask for it. But they can’t delete this one because I have a copy. All we have to do is upload it again. Which was pretty much the plan all along wasn’t it?’

  ‘Was it?’

  ‘Well, how did you think we were going to do this?’

  ‘I don’t know. You’re the genius.’

  ‘I’m flattered, really. But this was your mad idea in the first place.’

  ‘But only you could have pulled it off.’

  ‘We haven’t pulled anything off yet,’ he reminded her. ‘We need to get to a console – any console, and upload this disc into the mainframe. Then it’s up to you. What exactly did you have in mind anyway?’

  ‘We’re going to rewrite a bit of recent history,’ she told him. ‘What’s a Meittlepolyattlepuss?’

  ‘Something that never existed,’ said Denny. ‘Like an honest politician.’

  * * *

  The house was eerily silent. Only Finvarra and the boys were left, and they were upstairs in another wing somewhere.

  ‘This has to work,’ said Tamar. ‘We have to get them back. I can’t stand the quiet.’

  ‘It’ll work,’ Denny assured her. Neither of them mentioned Cindy, who would not be coming back, no matter whether this worked or not.

  Not that Denny had not considered trying to fix the Cindy situation when he had been in mainframe. He had, within these files the fate of the Rheingold of course, as part of the Norse legends. But Denny finally decided that he did not have the right. Cindy’s fate was her own business. Hadn’t he done enough to her?

  ‘Okay,’ we’re ready,’ said Denny. They grasped hands and looked at each other – memories flooding into their minds of the first time they had done this together. Tamar leaned forward with an enigmatic smile on her face. And pressed “Enter”

  ‘Beam me up Scotty,’ they said together as they de-materialised.

  * * *

  ‘Stand guard Fulk,’ said Loki to the hairy creature trotting along beside him. There was a whine, as of a dog that scents danger. Fulk looked hard at the water, then sniffed. Loki lost patience. ‘Oh for Odin’s sake Fulk,’ he snapped. ‘Just keep watch – over there.’ he pointed to the cave entrance. Fulk shambled away muttering.

  Loki then reached into his tattered robe and brought out a golden goblet encrusted with jewels. His eyes were gleaming with barely suppressed excitement. Under the water, Tamar caught her breath and metaphorically squared her shoulders. As Loki dipped the goblet into the water, she snatched it from his hand and rose out of the water in one smooth vertical movement scattering water in all directions. It was an impressive move, but Loki was too shocked to appreciate it properly.

  He recovered fast and dived at Tamar who moved easily out of his way. ‘Ah, ah, ah,’ she said shaking her head in derision, ‘naughty, naughty.’

  Then, without warning, Fulk dived into the water and came up again, struggling ineffectually against the iron grip in which he was held by a grinning Denny.

  ‘What?’ said Loki.

  ‘I knew Denny wouldn’t let himself get caught out,’ thought Tamar with satisfaction.

  * * *

  ‘Well. It’s about time you arrived. Cutting it a bit fine aren’t you? Do you know how many strings I had to pull to get you here?’

  Tamar shrugged. ‘Cutting it a bit fine for what?’ she asked.

  ‘Ragnoroc. Loki will be here soon, we have … what’s that?’

  Denny had come forward and dropped a struggling sack onto the floor at Odin’s feet.

  ‘It’s Loki,’ said Tamar, reaching down and slitting the sack open.

  ‘He’s your problem now. We’re going home.’

  ‘No Ragnoroc?’ said Odin thunderstruck.

  ‘No.’

  Odin’s face creased into a mammoth grin. ‘Thor will be disappointed,’ he said.

  Tamar grinned back suddenly. ‘Hand Loki over to him for a while,’ she said. ‘That ought to ease his disappointment.’

  Odin laughed infectiously.

  Really, he seemed almost human when he was like this, thought Tamar.

  ‘It will indeed,’ he said.

  ‘No!’ wailed Loki from his awkward position at Odin’s feet. Denny had bound him hand and foot, chains and manacles, as stipulated by Tamar. ‘He deserves it,’ she had said.

  He was ignored. ‘Just the two of you is it?’ asked Odin amiably. ‘I had heard that you travel in a pack these days.’

  Tamar smiled. ‘Sometimes,’ she said.

  ‘And this must be the husband that I’ve been hearing about.’

  ‘That’s right.’

  ‘Got a name has he?’ said Odin, a faint reprimand in his tone.

  ‘Denny Sanger,’ said Denny holding out a hand.

  ‘My goodness,’ said Odin returning the handshake. ‘Well, I’m really most grateful to both of you – thought our time was up this time.’

  ‘We’re happy to help,’ said Denny suppressing a grin.

  ‘Vat am I to do vis zis?’ asked a handmaiden, holding out a leash with a large wolf attached to one end of it. ‘I vound it tied up in ze entrance vay und it is makink vun mess of ze floor.’

  ‘Oh, sorry,’ said Denny, ‘I left him there. ‘He’s all right though. He won’t be giving you any more trouble. I think I’ve got him pretty well trained now.’ This was apparently the case. Fulk was cowering abjectly, his nose was down to the floor, his ears lay flat against his head, and he was shaking convulsively. He let out an ingratiating whine when Denny spoke.

  ‘But not house trained apparently,’ said Odin with another laugh. ‘Freya will not be amused. Look he just did it on the rug.’

  ‘Perhaps you can keep him outside,’ said Denny.

  ‘He’s nervous,’ said Tamar. ‘You terrified him, you great bully.’

  ‘Well,’ said Denny diffidently, ‘He did try to eat me.’

  ‘He didn’t know any better.’

  ‘He does now,’ said Odin. ‘I think perhaps you are right. We will put him outside, with the horses.

  ‘You will not stay for a feast?’ he offered graciously.

  ‘Thanks but we ought to be going,’ said Tamar firmly. Denny’s face fell. He was fond of Vikings who were always unimpressed with him until they discovered that he could eat a whole bull at one sitting, drink a lake-full of ale, had a vast repertoire of dirty songs and, these days at least, could beat up five men at once.

  Odin bowed. ‘All great men have a strong woman at their back,’ he said almost to himself. And it was clear he was not thinking of Denny so much as he was himself.

  To Tamar he said. ‘A pleasure as always my dear. I knew you would not fail me. I am in your debt for all time. And you may be certain that Loki will get what is coming to him.’

  To Denny he said. ‘A great warrior should not be judged on the appearance of his strength but by the strength of his deeds. You are a small man by the standards of my people, but you are a great warrior nevertheless. I am humbled by your presence and grateful for my lesson.’

  ‘Peace go with you both,’ he called as they turned to leave.

  At that moment, however, a loud snarl reverberated through the hall and there appeared in the doorway, blocking their way, the largest wolf either of them had ever seen. Twice as big as Fulk at least and, with its hackles raised, it looked even
bigger. Small beady yellow eyes, filled with hate and frustration, fixed on Tamar and it snarled again in vicious fury. It was Fenrir.

  Denny pushed Tamar behind him, back into the hall, and tensed, waiting for the spring. But Fenrir did not spring at Denny. With a howl of triumph, he leapt clean over Denny’s head and straight at Tamar. Denny spun, but he was not fast enough. However, Fulk, who had stiffened as soon as Fenrir entered the room, now broke free of his restraint and leapt snarling at Fenrir’s throat. He must have taken Fenrir by surprise, because he knocked the much larger wolf sideways as he careered into him and they both went flying into the far wall. They rolled over and over together in a flying ball of fur, teeth and claws, neither getting the upper hand for a moment, and then, miraculously. Fulk was on top, and he had Fenrir by the throat.

  ‘It’s not the size of the warrior in the fight, it’s the size of the fight in the warrior,’ muttered Denny. Which was, more or less, what Odin had been trying to say to him.

  Fenrir whined in submission and Fulk looked at Denny, keeping a heavy paw on Fenrir’s chest.

  ‘Looks like it’s up to you,’ said Tamar.

  Denny turned away, and Fulk bent his head toward Fenrir and ripped his throat out.

  Fulk trotted, jaws still dripping with blood, over to Denny’s side and sat down like an obedient dog.

  ‘Oh … Meittlepolyattlepusses!’ said Tamar. ‘We already have a dragon in the garage.’

  ‘Always wanted a dog,’ said Denny absently stroking Fulk’s ears. Fulk whined and licked Denny’s hand.

  ‘Looks like you’ve got one then,’ said Tamar succumbing to the inevitable for once.

  ‘What do you suppose he eats?’ said Denny. ‘Apart from other wolves I mean.’

  ~ Chapter Twenty One ~

  From the moment that Tamar and Denny threw Loki in chains at the feet of Odin, Ragnoroc was officially cancelled – again. Only Hecaté was to remember the battle and the sudden reversal that took place at this moment. For the others, it was as if it had never happened.

  And it never happened to Hecaté either, but being a goddess with an unusual memory, she remembered it anyway. The moment when the world around her stuttered and fell away, pin-wheeling into a black hole of emptiness to leave nothing but an empty file, which then became rapidly populated by different events, she remembered being there, although she was never there at all. Not this time. It was happening even now, she understood, while she stood here in the garden watching her husband, who had also been there, but would not remember it.

  There was a certain amount of confusion as time spun backwards to the moment where it all changed. Slick had gone with Stiles and Dawber to the empty file, and they had both gone to the wrong file while Stiles interrogated David, whose true identity was revealed. And now they were back arguing with Ray about what to do next since Tamar and Denny had not yet returned, but were clearly heading toward Ragnoroc with no idea of what they were getting themselves into.

  The Valkyries were not called in this time (this had originally been Denny’s idea) and Ray thought they should go to Asgard through mainframe. ‘It’s Ragnoroc, which means the end of our world too.’

  Stiles agreed, but neither Slick nor Dawber wanted to do this. Stiles, who in the absence of Tamar and Denny considered himself in charge, was about to order them to do as they were told, when Hecaté intervened.

  ‘Jack, I need to talk to you,’ she said, beckoning him over, away from the others. ‘In private please.’

  ‘Is everything all right?’ he asked.

  ‘Everything is fine,’ she assured him. ‘I have not the time to explain everything at this moment. But I promise I will. However, for the moment, let me say that Tamar and Denny are dealing with Ragnoroc and do not need out help. But I need yours my dear. I have had, shall we say, some enlightenment about the nature of the Tuatha and how they might be dealt with. This must be our task now.’

  ‘Ray says they were the Giants in the Norse legends,’ said Stiles*

  *[He did not bother to ask how she knew what Tamar and Denny were up to. He was used to this sort of thing. If Hecaté said it was okay, then it was okay. She would explain later – when there was time. There was never time for explanations in the middle of things. And he had learned that asking questions wasted valuable time. They needed to trust each other.]

  ‘How very astute of him,’ Hecaté said. ‘They are indeed. But so much more.’

  ‘Tell me,’ he said.

  ‘The most ancient of all the races of gods,’ she said, ‘were not the products of imagination and belief, as were the later ones. They were a race, like that of humans, similar but with greater powers. They came to this world to rule it. And when they failed, they ascended to a different plane of existence. They became as spirits, harmless, weak and invisible. But now they have descended back into physical bodies. I have discovered their weakness in this form. The manner in which we shall separate them from the bodies they have … have …’

  ‘Hijacked,’ said Stiles tersely.

  ‘Yes, but first we need to summon them. And that my dear is why I need you.’

  ‘Okay.’ Stiles waited.

  ‘They are waiting to be summoned by Loki. He will summon them to a place of great magic. Their spiritual home you might say. I have seen this place – I flew over it and saw the summoning taking place. I will explain this later. There is a stone, like in nature to the portal stones that guarded the Faerie realm yet not quite the same, there we will summon the Tuatha and undo their spell.’

  ‘You want me to impersonate Loki,’ he surmised, ‘with the gauntlet.’

  ‘He is Tuatha, as is Leir. In their current form, tied down by the flesh, their consciousness’ pulled a million different ways by the demands of their living bodies, buried under layers of human feelings and emotions and distracting thoughts, they will only recognize that a powerful Tuatha is summoning them. They will not be able to make the distinction, not while their minds are thus fogged. This weakness in them, I have now seen for myself. They are expecting Loki’s summons. Why should they not respond? They will respond.’

  ‘I agree. They probably will. But what are you going to do when they do?’

  ‘I am a goddess, do you doubt me?’

  ‘That’s not an answer,’ he pointed out.

  ‘I will give them a choice,’ she said.

  ‘Oooh, nasty,’ said Stiles without a trace of irony.

  ‘So, what are we going to do?’ asked Ray on behalf of himself, Dawber and Slick when Stiles briefly explained the situation. ‘We want to help too.’

  ‘There is one more piece of unfinished business that you are all uniquely qualified to deal with,’ said Hecaté smiling.

  ‘The Agency,’ said Stiles.

  ‘What do you want us to do?’ asked Ray – spokesperson. ‘Burn it down?’

  ‘Not at all,’ said Hecaté. ‘Just the opposite, in fact. Since The Director abandoned it, the Agency has been in disarray. He will not be returning. I have a personal guarantee of that. But the Agency itself, although founded on faulty principles, has a place in the work we do. I have no doubt that much good will come of such an institution in the future if it is run well by a good man.’ She manifested a broom and handed it to Dawber. ‘Go clean house – Mr. Director,’ she said.

  Dawber looked at the broom in bewilderment. ‘Me?’ he said incredulously.

  ‘Yes you,’ she said firmly. ‘You are the one. You have suffered much abuse at the hands of the Agency I know. Who better then, to know what changes must be wrought within its management?’

  ‘I don’t think I’m ready for this,’ he said.

  ‘No? If you thought you were ready, then you most certainly would not be. You will undoubtedly not make the same mistakes that the last Director made. Mistakes of arrogance and pride.’

  ‘But I will make mistakes.’ Dawber insisted.

  Hecaté laid a hand on his shoulder. ‘You have a fortunate habit of making the right decisions, you came her
e, did you not? Any mistakes you do make will be with the right intentions and, despite what some people think, that counts for a lot. Do not treat people as cattle, as he did, but as equals with more to contribute than their unthinking obedience and you will create a bond of loyalty that will see you through the worst mistakes you could possibly make. For people who love and respect you will forgive you anything and will be there to help you when you stumble. I know you can do that. I see into the very souls of men. You are a good man, with strong principles and a sense of justice. Why do you think Tamar chose you to help her?’

  ‘I’ve never been in charge, though,’ said Dawber. ‘I don’t know whether I can be a leader. Maybe Ray …’

  ‘Nothing doing,’ said Ray decidedly. ‘I’d much rather it was you. I’m happy with my computer. For what it’s worth, I reckon you’d make a good leader. You stood up to the Director, didn’t you? And people like you. I don’t know you very well, but I’ve seen you about the place, you always seem to have a little coterie of friends hanging on your every word. Besides, you’ve got the walk.’

  ‘The walk?’ said Dawber puzzled.

  ‘Yeah, you know the long confident stride, head up, shoulders back – the “I can do anything” walk. You get the walk right, and you’re halfway there.’

  Hecaté laughed. ‘Your friend is right,’ she said. ‘Walk tall and confident – believe in yourself, and you can accomplish miracles.’

  ‘I’ll back you up,’ said Ray. ‘If she believes in you, who am I to argue?’

  ‘Good,’ said Hecaté. ‘Now, we must be off, we have much to do. Jack?’

  Stiles gave them the benefit of one of his shark-like grins. ‘Wanna see something cool?’ he said, slipping on the gauntlet.

  The three agency men watched in awe as the gauntlet spread out its glowing tendrils up Stiles’s arm and into his nervous system.

  ‘That is cool,’ gasped Ray. ‘Look, his eyes are glowing.’

  Dawber nodded. ‘Pretty cool,’ he agreed distractedly. He was too busy worrying about his new responsibilities.