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"Okay, but what if I don't believe in your powers?"
"That's okay, Karl. I don't expect you to. I just need you to trust me that this is the right thing to do. This is the way things are supposed to be."
"Hunh," said Karl.
"I'll even get you a pizza. I can order it with my cell phone. We should have enough time to eat before we have to leave for the conference."
"Okay," Karl said grudgingly.
"Excellent," Harry said. "Things are going perfectly according to plan."
"It's cool that you're so sure of everything," Karl said. "It seems like I'm pretty much always kind of confused."
"It's called 'moral clarity,' Karl. It's a gift."
"Cool," said Karl, nodding his head slowly in admiration. "Can I have it?"
"It's not really mine to give, Karl."
"But can I learn it from you?"
"Well, I suppose you could, but we don't really have time for "
"Afterwards, then. After the culvert rollers thing."
"Yes, well, I'll certainly see what I can do about that. Destiny may have other plans."
"What do you mean?" Karl demanded. "Just teach me it. I'm not going unless you teach me it. The mortal clarity."
"Karl, it's not something you can just teach someone. It takes years of "
"I've got time," said Karl. "I don't have to work because of the Antichrist thing. I could spend every day with you, learning mortal clarity."
"Karl, my moral clarity goes along with my faith. You understand? My religion. You can't have moral clarity unless you have faith."
"So I have to change religion?"
"No," said Harry. Then, thinking better of it, he said "Yes, actually. You need to change religion."
"Okay," replied Karl obligingly.
"Karl, you can't just change your religion, just like that. This is a serious decision. It's a life-changing event."
"Okay."
"Can we just put this discussion off until after the conference?"
Karl didn't look happy, but at last he said, "Yeah, I guess."
"Thank G.o.d," said Harry quietly. "I take your sentiments seriously, Karl, I really do. It's just that there's a lot going on right now, and I'm not sure this is the best time to "
"What's the name of it?"
"The name of what?"
"Our religion."
It was all Harry could do to keep control of his lip. "Christianity. Christianity is my my religion. religion. I I am a Christian." am a Christian."
"Cool," said Karl. "Me too."
"No, you're not! You're not a Christian, Karl. You haven't converted. Not yet. You can be a Christian tomorrow if you still want to. Just not today, okay? Today you still have to be the Antichrist."
"Fine," said Karl glumly. "Are you going to order pizza or what?"
TWENTY-FIVE.
"I go by many names," said Malphas to Christine, ominously.
"One of which," said Christine, "is evidently 'Don of Don's Discount Flooring.'"
"You two have met?" asked Nybbas.
"We have," said Christine, realizing that her only chance of surviving this encounter was to stick to her bluff. "I'm Crispix. Lucifer sent me to make sure everything is in place for the invasion."
"Crispix," said Malphas, eyeing her suspiciously. "I am surprised that His Luminescence did not inform me of your involvement in this matter. When we last met, you were highly convincing as a mortal who hadn't a clue what we were actually installing in your condominium."
"A necessary ruse," said Christine. "The Luminous One needed independent verification that everything was being done according to his specifications."
"Hm," grunted Malphas. "And now you've come to check up on us again?"
"It's in all of our interests to ensure that everything goes smoothly with the invasion," said Christine. "Wouldn't you agree?"
Malphas grunted reluctant agreement. "So I suppose you'll want to see the munitions?"
"You suppose correctly," said Christine. "Let's see them. It. Let's see the munitions."
Malphas led the two of them to a vault tucked into the corner of the warehouse. He spun a combination on the door and then yanked open the ma.s.sive steel door. Flicking on a light switch, he beckoned them inside.
"Here they are," said Malphas. "Six hundred sixty six of them. Each powerful enough to level a small city." He picked one of the billiard-ball sized items from its place on the shelf and handed it to Christine.
Christine turned it over in her hand, trying to appear nonchalant. It was heavy, but it easily fit in the palm of her hand. It looked like a gla.s.s apple.
"Yes," she said thoughtfully. "These will do... I suppose."
"You've seen an anti-bomb before, of course?"
"Of course," said Christine.
"It's Heavenly technology. We've got more destructive weapons, but we were told to use these. I suppose they want there to be some confusion as to who is responsible for the attacks. Although it seems to me that everyone's going to figure it out pretty quickly."
"You're going to send these through the portal?"
"That is the plan. The brigade will be arriving in a few hours. As soon as we get the word, we'll activate the portal and send them through."
"To Glendale."
"Right."
"You need six hundred and sixty six of these to blow up Glendale?"
Malphas looked quizzically at her. "Of course not. They'll be dispersed as widely as possible before detonating. Each recruit has a designated checkpoint. Surely your people informed you of all this?"
"Yes, yes," said Christine. "Just making sure that you're clear on all the details. I'd like to see the portal now, if that's alright. That is, take me to the portal."
"I'll need that back," said Malphas.
"Right," said Christine, handing the gla.s.s apple back to him. He replaced it in its padded slot on a shelf in the vault.
After shutting the vault behind them, Malphas led them to a small closet off the warehouse. In the middle of the floor, a roughly circular geometric pattern was etched into the floor. Christine had never seen this particular variation, but she a.s.sumed that it was the symbol for the portal in her condo.
"It's a bit out of the way," said Malphas, "but our calculations indicate that this is the optimal location for the portal. Or will be, anyway. After the reconfiguration is complete."
"The reconfiguration," repeated Christine. "Yes. How is the, ah, reconfiguration progressing?"
"It's a tricky business," said Malphas. "But our people are confident that one more quake will do it. In fact, Ramiel just reported in. We're hoping for another one any minute now. If it works, we should see...."
As he spoke, the portal began to glitter around its edges.
"There!" exclaimed Nybbas. "They did it!"
"Excellent," said Malphas. "Now as soon as Izbazel gets his lazy a.s.s over here, we'll know for sure."
"Izbazel is coming here?" Christine said weakly, the bravado suddenly draining out of her voice.
"He was supposed to be here already. This whole plan rests on his shoulders. If he doesn't take out the Antichrist.... But first things first. We're not even certain the portal works yet. Izbazel is supposed to be the first one through."
"Can't we test it before Izbazel gets here?" Christine asked.
"We could," said Malphas, "but we've been forbidden to do so. Lucifer wants Izbazel to be the first one through."
"Yes, well," said Christine, realizing that her only chance to get out of here alive much less stop this diabolical plot was to go through the portal before Izbazel showed up. Once he arrived and recognized her, it was all over.
"Yes, well, there has been a change of plans," Christine found herself saying. "His Luminosity wants me to go through first."
Malphas frowned. "It's not like Lucifer to change his mind at the last minute like this. I'll need to run it down through channels."
"No can do," said Christine. "There's a... that is, Lucifer suspects that there's a mole in the organization. Somewhere up the, er, down the channels. I mean, somewhere in the chain of command. A traitor. Quisling. A fifth column, if you will. Someone feeding information to the other side. That's why I'm here. Had to, you know, circ.u.mvent the channels."
"This is highly irregular," said Malphas. "You're expecting me to believe that Lucifer is deliberately keeping his subordinates in the dark?"
"Would it be the first time?" asked Christine.
"And now he sends you, Crispix, a demon that was still on bad terms with His Luminescence the last I heard."
"Lucifer needed someone from outside of his organization," said Christine. "Can't you see it was the only way to be sure?"
"Not to mention," said Nybbas, "that we haven't actually verified your ident.i.ty. You could be any shape-s.h.i.+fting demon, for all we know. Why, you could be an angel."
"Or human," said Malphas.
"Human!" chortled Christine, feeling sick to her stomach. "Tell me, do you get many humans down here? Besides, how do you explain that I was the one who contracted you to do the portal installation? Lucifer sent me because he knew you would recognize me as someone else who was in on the plot."
"Hmm," said Malphas.
"Were any other demons aware of what you were doing in that condo in Glendale?"
"No," admitted Malphas.
"You were under orders from Lucifer himself. There is no way I would know about that no way that I could have shown up here unless Lucifer himself told me about it. Unless," she added sardonically, "you allow for an absolutely absurd set of coincidences."
"Well," Nybbas noted thoughtfully, "we could always test to see if she's human."
"We don't have time for that," snapped Christine.
"It's a simple test," offered Nybbas helpfully. "We just chop your head off and then stick it back on. If it reattaches, then you're not human. I have a relatively sharp scythe around here somewhere."
"Look," said Christine. "What is it that you think I'm going to do once I go through that portal? Warn the Los Angeles police to be on the lookout for six-hundred-sixty-six demons armed with gla.s.s apples? In any case, I've got my orders, and I'm going through. You do what you have to do."
Christine closed her eyes and took two steps forward, expecting a giant leathery hand to yank her back. But the hand didn't come. The next thing she knew, she was standing on the linoleum in her condo.
Home.
For a moment she imagined that the whole thing was some kind of dream or hallucination. But even here the evidence of world-shaking events was visible: Books lay scattered on the floor where they had fallen from the shelves, several windows were broken and a ma.s.sive crack ran from floor to ceiling of one wall. Los Angeles as a whole must be reeling in the wake of the earthquakes.
So. What now? She half-expected Malphas to materialize before her eyes, ready to yank her back to that demonic place. They were probably checking her story right now. It might take seconds or minutes for them to realize that it was all nonsense, and then they'd send somebody through to get her. And that would be it. The end, for her and for the entire world.
What if she were to tear out her linoleum? That would presumably destroy the portal. How hard could it be to tear out linoleum? All she would need was some kind of....
It occurred to her that she had no idea how to remove linoleum. Maybe peel up one of the corners with a screwdriver? She had a screwdriver somewhere, but she vaguely remembered it was the kind with a cross for a tip, not the flat kind. It had a name, something biblical. Peter? Paul?
d.a.m.n it, there was no time for this. She noticed an award she had received from the Evangelical Society of Journalists lying on the carpet near the edge of the linoleum, where it had presumably fallen during one of the earthquakes. She had won the award for one of her first a.s.signments, back when she still thought she might be doing the world some good by reporting on apocalyptic cults. It was sort of flower shaped, with a marble base and a gla.s.s body that came to a sharp point at the top. She had always thought it was supposed to be a flame, but it occurred to her now that it looked a little like a bird. A pigeon, maybe. Didn't she read once that a pigeon was essentially the same thing as a dove? Or was that cougars and mountain lions?