I'm just another journalist, freelance, I get by. I'm nothing special and to be truthful I'm not very consistent. As a war correspondent I missed all the action, as a social columnist I got thrown out of the best clubs and as a crime reporter I got mugged far too often. I did get published though and some of my stories were even noticed. Why am I telling you this, well just so that you know I'm always desperate for a good story, some people would say too desperate, but you try get ahead when your got a million little cretins out there lifting up every stone and snapping shots off at every single cockroach.
When life is good you find a good story, but when it is bad, well then a story finds you. It finds you dead drunk and out of it. If you are lucky you left your answering machine on. I was and I had. I woke up with ashes in my head and sand through my body, some how I had made it home the night before. On my way through to the kitchen to get a caffeine fix I automatically spied the flashing light that meant at least one message, the first for the week.
As I continued on through content in the knowledge that somebody might actually love me, but then again it could be any number of low lives. Debt collectors through to ex- wives, they were all out to bleed me dry. I really needed a coffee more then words at that time of the morning so I glumly set my pot to boil and filled my plunger with Italian roast. There were just some luxuries a man could not live with out. Flicking on the radio I caught the end of a news bulletin, nothing surprising. Middle East turmoil I would not be covering, political manoeuvrings that where to mundane to even warrant a moment of attention. There was something that caught my ear though. Some yokels in Mildura were charging around claiming that some twelve year old blonde hair, blue eyed kid was the Christ incarnate. I couldn't believe some arsehole was getting paid for such beat up tongue in cheek pap and here was me just struggling to get a few good stories together in Sydney. I was more then happy when my coffee was fully plungered and ready to liven up my sluggish system.
With the mug warming my hands I forgot about the radio, which had mutated into some bland easy listening. The anorexic nightingale Celine Dion to be precise, so I moved off to set my machine in to motion. It buzzed into the first message as I sipped into my first cuppa for the day.
"Watch it, that coffees hot." My tongue and lips exploded with heat as I spurted in response to the smooth pre-recorded voice that had been sitting in dormant on my message tape. It spared me no more time before continuing. "Good Mr. Grutton, I'm glad I've got your attention, I wouldn't want to waste it." The voice was the cultured kind usually only found in diplomatic circle and thespian enterprises, what the hell was it doing on my machine. "You are probably wondering Richard why I have called, well the answer is so simple you should have already guessed. I have a story for you. One hell of a story in fact. If you want your chance to make that money you so rightfully feel you deserve then you had best meet me in one hour at the Del Minga Cafe, I do believe you know where it is. I'll look forward to seeing you." Then came the click and another beep.
The next message was from Ronald Teas, Babra's blood sucking little maintenance man. I already knew what he was demanding so I let the rest of the messages play out while I set about rummaging through my closet in search of an outfit unsoiled enough to wear. My choice was haphazard in the end but bearable. One hour I told myself, but from when, shit that I did not know. Who ever the caller had been, he had most likely called earlier last night, Ron didn't do his blood sucking at night, he wasn't that kind of vampire.
Logically I should have deduced that I would be later then words could encompass, but that didn't stop me, my hangover only phased me, I had been promised a story and a story I was going to get. Anyway, worst came to worst I could content my self with some well greased fried eggs at Del Mingo's. With the black coffee sitting in my stomach and my old Bogart trench coat sitting on my shoulders I ushered my self into my beat up old Fiat and cursed the motor into life.
I did surprisingly make it to the cafe within the hour, not that it really concerned me though, it was just good to know that sometimes traffic went my way. I did not bother to lock my car door as I got out, I had been hoping for months somebody would steal my little money trap and I did not see the point in giving up now. As I entered the colourfully trendy establishment known as Del Mingo, I was greeted by the waning of the breakfast crowd. For a moment I was phased.
With out a description to go on or a red carnation to spot, I regretted the thought that I might have to question every individual customer to find my mark. My other option was to grab some grub and to let him find me. That to me was a far favourable plan of action and I was ready to play it out when my eyes dropped onto the man in question. When they did there was no mistaking the fact that this was who I was looking for.
I could say our eyes met across the room but that would not give justice to the moment. It was more like my eyes were dragged by ice towards the only figure that truly belonged in the neo fascist floral styling of the cafe. Not that he fitted in with the lack lustre morning crew though, he just belonged. Like a corpse belongs at a cemetery or a cop belongs at a mad gunman's siege. There was nothing on Earth that was going to move him from his booth seat. The eyes never wavered in their steel blue driving stare and the effeminate hand beaconed for me to sit before a freshly steaming plate of tussled eggs and bursting sausages. My mouth was quicker then my feet, as it salivated the latent hunger I had been repressing all the way over.
As I made my way across I took stock of the man that had captured my attention. His clothes spoke of age while his face sung youthful exuberance. I could not place a style even upon his swept back ocean of hair. This man was an enigma in fashion, but would have probably made Vesaci cum in his own grave with the accessories alone that pinned and primed his suit. The slender hand was bejewelled with slivers of gold and as I was waved to my seat I had no doubt that this man had money, but even closer inspection sunk doubt into the gender alone. With a moment of K.D.Lang I pondered my correct assumption of sex. That spine that drove my male ego leapt out at the very hope that I was dealing with a woman to which I could immorally bond to, but dressed and unshaven as I was, I saw no hope a an adulterous affair in the near future so I ruthlessly wrestled my libido to the floor.
"I'm so glad you could join me." Up close and personal his voice was so sincere that it made me want to weep childhood tears. "Feel free to eat and enjoy what I have had prepared for your benefit." So as to set my mind at ease he perched the cup of tea to his lips and noiselessly sipped away.
Noticing the mutual cup of coffee before me I joined along, whispering a guttural thanks as I set my cup down. I then compulsively licked my lips and shovelled up a healthy mouthful of fried delight. I could not help being hesitant though, it seemed wrong to me to engorge myself before such an astounding host.
"Please, feel at ease to enjoy yourself, we have much to discus." No doubt we did, what it was I was more then ever zealous to know. If I had not felt so far out of my depth I would have been ramming questions down his throat already, instead I contented my self with ramming food down mine. This seemed to more then satisfy my host who sat back with a quirky smile on his face. "Yes they do have the best griller this side of Balmain, it's good to see you can appreciate that."
And I did. Every mouthful shredded my hangover by inches, drilling life through my stomach and onto the rest of my abused bodily functions. My companion must have known this because he aloud me to gratefully finish of my meal in silence and to kick start the rest of my wits. My mind more then anything was churning in circles. It ran down every possible angle, could the man across from me be part of a political conspiracy, a deep throat ready to whisper to me a scandal of Water Gate proportions. No, his manner and complexion was far to gay for somebody who had spent time in the public sector. Maybe he was part of a media consortium, but he was to forgivably bland. Business and Science seemed a long shot, he had the brow of one that never wasted time on intensive worried thoughts.
By the time I had wiped a pattern clear across the plate I was still just as lost for words as when I had sat down. I pushed the plate away and stared, his grin was infectious, I could not help but copy it. I doubted my version had a fraction of the joy his shed with ease. "It's so very good to see that you enjoyed yourself."
I mumbled something about how well it had all been cooked, but I blurted out what I really wanted to say soon afterwards. "Who are you?" My mouth numbly gnawed at more words, but I really had nothing further to add to such a simple question.
The smooth cultured voice swung my way. "Yes the simplistic of questions deserves the simplest of answers, so I'll do my best." His manner was openly revealing, this comforted me with the knowledge that yet another interview had begun. "I have had many names, but my favourite is Maximillion Lesanta De Salvo." The name meant nothing to me. "You may call me Max.," Neither did that.
"Well, what makes you so special Max?" I had been grasping at that point for quite a few minutes now.
"Well, I have a confession to make Richard and I want you to be the one to hear it."
"Shouldn't you be speaking to a priest." It wasn't really a question.
"Yeah, right? No this is hardly a subject that a man of the cloth could ever grasp, no, I believe you will do fine."
I was beginning to warm up. I could be on the tip of anything here, from a government conspiracy to an unsolved murder. I had best skate along as carefully as I can. "But why me?"
His eyes twinkled like constellations, his grin stung with honest empathy. "Because you are desperate. Because you are lost. Mostly because you are a loser. I have always admired losers."
"How do you know so much about me?" Was he leading me on. I just didn't know.
"There is not much I don't know." A fixed him with my well practised doubtful stare. What can I say, I fantasise too much about being a current affairs reporter. He sipped a fraction more coffee then launched himself into a tirade that sent me reeling. "There is a lot I have done and much I have made. It is neither good nor bad, but has all been done for the sake of survival. Survival and growth, life's two major stabilities that must be upheld at all costs. Or so I thought, but my own turmoil has driven me to contact you and to tell of the great hoax that I have only played a small part in."
I digested that along with my eggs, the eggs had gone down a lot easier. "Hoax, what hoax? Another political Watergate?" I could only hope.
"No, one that exists beyond all history, culture and religion. One that is part of the very fabric of Heaven and Hell. A hoax that is the foundation of all intelligent life here on Earth."
My jaw was as slack as my mind. "Huh?"
"What kind of man do you see before you?" Without an answer the conversation dipped for a second. "That is because I am not a man. To put simply my kind has been around a long time, we have been given many names, one of which is demon." I was not holding up well to the fantastic facts that my intriguing breakfast companion threw at me so nonchalantly. "I know you have never believed in us, but it doesn't matter, it is our nature to revel in disbelief."
At last a truly relevant question fell to my lips. "Uhhh, what the hells a demon." I didn't see any horns. Only a friendly young man with an adorable face.
"Well, I will answer that, but to do this I have to tell you a bit about the nature of man. You exist because we exist. You came before us and we before you. You are our children, as we are your children. Without each other we are all dead, yet our life is inevitable.
"You see, my kind never existed in time. We existed beyond time, as a random thought within the cosmos. Undeterred we strove for life, we strove to be one with the universe, we strove to belong. With time as our dimension we searched the universe, unbound by those material energies you call the laws of physics and we fell upon paradise. A paradise of our own creation and your destruction. We saw the seeds of life and cultivated your existence. Our sperm became your sperm and so apes grew up to become men. Egos riding on whims of meat. We have guided our children to be gods, from the very first day Adam and Eve walked the world, but they were but shabby beasts. You see, we are just the end product of evolution, we are what life is. We are no more then nothing yet we are stronger then any decay."
I stuttered, I stammered, my head reeled, but I never doubted a word. I realised then and there that my mind was not playing tricks, across from me sat the most beautiful person I had ever met. "But you're nothing like me?"
"Oh, I wouldn't be, these things take time and as a race of civilised people we have a long way to go. You always have, but it comes with leaps and bounds. Like when a guy called Jesus showed up on the scene, we thought you guys had definitely stepped up a rung. We tried to get him on board, but he just would not play ball. Hey, was it our fault the other team slipped him the bat first. Jeeez, we are still coming to terms with that even now, you just have to know how to work these things if you want a hope in hell of compensating.
"Compensating?" This guy was talking about history like it was just another game.
"Well for instance, a man comes along and tells you how you should live, possibly logically and in the nicest way. Sounds great in the beginning, so you improve on it, you encourage other people to improve on it. In no time at all everyone tries to muscle in on the act and anything's possible. It worked on Mohammed and Jesus, and there were two right thinking guys. By the time we had finished with their followers, they were hacking each other to pieces, and turning on their fellow believers. It was pretty gory, but you could really live in those days. A fellow demon once compared the mindless battles of those times to an endless tennis game without a hint of love. Now that's sport."
It dawned on me, history was a game to this guy. "But what other team, you didn't mention another team." I feared who he was talking about, but I had to hear it for myself. I was definitely not speaking my mind, not now. Not when I had solemnly spent my entire life ignoring all things holistic.
"I digress, where was I, oh yeah, so we are one team and then there is the other, God's team. Sure we ourselves don't even know if god exists. Yeah, like I have actually met God, but how do I know that he is not just a mind psyche by the opposition, a heavy hitter so to speak, but still just another player on the team. I've seen him action though and I can tell you he packs a mean punch. He could probably thrash me any day of the week exempting Saturday. Just a little biblical humour. Demons have a sense of humour too you know. I can't really say the same about God."
"So you fight one another. That doesn't sound very advanced to me."
"We don't really fight each other, not in a way you would consider fighting. No swinging of clubs or meagre energetic strikes. We simply out exist each other. One ego overpowers another and a stronger, more complex life form, results."
"But isn't God the creator of everything. Isn't that what God is."
"We all took part in the creation of man, even as we all compete for the creation of ourselves. The true creator is a different story. They say god is one of them, we say god the ultimate creator flows beyond any conscious entity, that it ascends existence itself."
"Well if you exist beyond time, why bother. Don't you know how it will end up?"
"While we may move freely through time, we are still restricted by it. While we may exist in the future, we know that if history does not go where we direct then that future and our existence will be no more."
"So you manipulate us so as to achieve your own ends, nothing surprising about that."
"Yes, very true. We all aim mankind by our deeds and through our leadership. Breeding and solidifying our hold on societies direction and the twisted creatures who are herded by the events we orchestrate.
"As do our competitors. For we all compete for the future, for the complete possession of the universal society that awaits us all. Once we were brothers, but as we developed man from ape, our mutual material ancestor, then we grew apart. Becoming mutual opposites, we have since battled for possession of fate, to launch an anchor of our existence."
At this point I had decided that it was prudent to just shut up and absorb the real implications of what I was hearing. "Which brings me to my dilemma. My greatest fear is that such a conflict will lead to the annihilation of all parties, through the eradication of all life on earth. Some of my colleges see this as more favourable then actually winning, by I personally see it as completely inconsiderable.
"Over the years I have grown very endeared to many of the societies I have helped to form, those past and future civilisations that you mortals never fully envision. Sure, you may conceive integral parts, but in the end you are just sitting in an immensely huge jigsaw with far too many pieces missing.
"So I have been helping build the jigsaw from scratch and I have an excellent idea where it is going. It was not always that way though. You see, at first there were no rules at all, so they were made up as we went along. Like when Cain beat the living shit out of Able because I told him Able had been making eyes on his main squeeze. For all I know, I could have been wrong, but that's prehistory. The important thing was you should have seen how pissed of everybody became, God himself roared on and on about how murder was wrong and should never be allowed.
"Then the hypocritical bastard went on and conned some poor old man into killing his own son as a test. Sure he switched his mind and had a goat killed instead, but I still felt sorry for that pathetically shocked goat. After that it became quite a trendy custom to kill a goat whenever people were in doubt, it became quite a nasty habit actually, so it's no surprise to me that goats have such a nasty temperament and live on the side of mountains."
Max stopped, sipped his tea and watched me. He was unconcerned by belief, he was a fact, stuck in my face, irrepressible and undeniable. I finally asked him what had been spinning through my head. "What do you want me to do about it?"
Max lifted a smooth leather folder out in slid it across the table. "In here you will find one hundred thousand dollars and all the relevant facts you will need to write your story. Just make it simple, and get it published, that's all. Sure you will be laughed at, but you will be paid handsomely for playing the fool."
"Why now? Nobody believes in this shit anymore"
"It's not a question of belief. It's a question of who will read it, and believe me, somebody will read it, they shall understand and in these coming centuries of chaos, they will lead humanity on a new path. Your only concern is to get the story published, fate will do the rest. Any tabloid will do for this to happen. The manipulation of fate is a simple game, one that I am very apt at."
The cover of the folder was the softest, sweetest hide I had ever seen. Something special, something queer. I looked back up. "But what if I dunn..." Max was gone, leaving me alone.
I questioned a few people, most people gave me the impression that I had dined alone. So I picked my quirky little folder up and quickly paid and found the door. I had a lot of work to do and an unknown dead line to meet.
In a far distant land, in a far distant time, Maximillion Lesanta De Salvo stood alone. He new he had chosen his rhythm well, just like the coming of Christianity, his word would ride the downfall of civilisation. It would unite humanity in the dead of night. Help it become it's very own god. Help it rise above existence and creation. What it would become Max no longer knew, nor did he care. His only concern was the fact that he was the one that had played the last hand, he did not even care anymore who had dealt that hand. Winners didn't have such concerns, nothing plagued their hearts. For a moment Max smiled, it was a truthfully universal smile, one that would linger over all of history. One that lasted only a brief moment in time. He then winked out of existence.