Chapter Fourteen:
Fortune Favors the Righteous
The five warlords engaged in a heated debate. They stood in a semicircle in a small clearing surrounding a strange house in Ascension Parish. It was the house with air conditioning and video games that Louis’ party stayed in. The dark warlords would have found it sooner, but they encountered numerous problems on the way there. If all had gone well the warlords would have caught the small party, but fate decreed otherwise.
The dirt bike Plague rode got a flat tire only an hour out of Baton Rouge, shortly after sunset. Rather than go back he decided to double up with Bubby, because the black man’s dirt bike had the biggest seat. Around midnight Plague and Bubby sped down the riverside game trail trying to make up for lost time when they hit a log. The motorcycle flew through the air, and crashed in a heap of twisted metal.
Sharp was following close behind them when they wrecked. He avoided going airborne by laying his bike down into the log. Sharp escaped serious injury, but his motorcycle was rendered useless. Alex and Terrence stopped their bikes short of the disaster and ran to assist their fallen comrades.
Bubby broke his ankle and Plague shattered his collarbone. In hundreds of years of combat neither one of them had ever suffered broken bones. They were supposed to have spells to protect them from such things, but their magical protection applied only to combat. The discovery of that fact at such a crucial time angered Plague and Bubby. Alex reminded them that magical invulnerability did not exist.
Between the five of them they had the magical power to heal Plague and Bubby, but the process took a couple of hours. The five of them debated whether or not to go back to Baton Rouge. They had no guarantee that the people they were after went down the river. Plague convinced them not to turn back. They agreed to continue the search with the resources they had.
Alex’s dirt bike ran out of gas twenty minutes later. At that point Terrence decided the dirt bikes were cursed, and abandoned his intentionally. Plague believed the difficulties they encountered were proof that they were on the right track. The reasoning made sense to the others, and they continued the search for tracks on foot. Three hours after dawn they found the tracks they were looking for, and an hour after that they found the house.
“All I’m saying is that nobody has luck this bad. We started off with five dirt bikes, and now we’re all walking. We’re chasing people on horses. I don’t think our chances are too good,” Alex complained. He stroked his fingers through his long white beard as he spoke.
“I have to agree with Alex,” Sharp informed the group. “I know we’ve always heard that gods don’t interfere with human interaction in this dimension, but after last night I don’t believe it anymore. I can’t compete with gods. I’m turning back.” Sharp didn’t walk away when he finished speaking. He wasn’t going to change his mind, but he wanted to find out what the others decided.
“The tracks head directly into the swamp. Even if we could keep up with horses, which we can’t,” Bubby reasoned, “the trail will be underwater. I’m going back to town. From there I’m going to gather reinforcements and head directly to New Orleans. We’re not going to catch them in our neck of the woods.” He didn’t wait around to find out what anybody else thought. He turned and headed for the river.
“You know we’re right, Plague. Those righteous bastards are playing with a stacked deck. Bubby has the right idea. We should go back into town, gather a large force and head down to New Orleans,” Terrence advised their leader.
Plague relented, “I wish we had decided that before we went on this wild goose chase, but there was no way to know our pursuit would be jinxed. This whole affair has left a bad taste in my mouth. As bad as I want to tear these people limb from limb, I agree with the rest of you. We go back to town, and head to New Orleans with a large war party.” Plague signaled the end of the discussion by walking out the same way Bubby did.
As they walked Alex laid out the plan, “We know the locals down there will be out to get these people too. We have just as much of a right to catch them as anybody else does. If the natives down there give us any trouble, then we bust heads.”
“The whole thing concerns me,” Sharp spoke up from beside Alex. “If everyone knows where this guy is going, then won’t there be thousands of people waiting at Asmodeus’ palace?”
“That was why we needed to catch Louis before he got to New Orleans,” Plague told Sharp. “Now there’s going to be a free-for-all in the French Quarter to see who gets the reward for his head. That’s why we have to bring a war party. A big war party.”
“I understand all that. But don’t you think there’s something fishy about the way this whole things has played out? I think there’s more going on here than we know about. We should prepare ourselves for the worst,” Sharp counseled. Everybody listened to him because of his intelligence. He was the only person they ever heard of who crossed into Discordia using science.
“I think Sharp is onto something. When my sorcerers spoke with Mephisto, the devil put a large bounty on Louis Comeaux’s head. We got information on the kid’s arrival, his allies and his eventual destination. Apparently everyone else got the same information, and I do mean everyone else. There has to be more to this than meets the eye. By all rights we should have captured the kid’s entire party by now,” Plague spoke his thoughts out loud.
“We sure have a long walk ahead of us,” Terrence lamented. He shed himself of all weapons but the boomerang. He didn’t see any reason to continue carrying the extra weight. He also didn’t think discussing their dilemma made any difference.
“It doesn’t matter what we have to say about this anyway. The gods screwed us, just like they’ve screwed us all along,” Alex summed up his feelings. Everybody else agreed, and they trod in silence after that.
When they got to the river they headed north. The five dangerous warlords from Baton Rouge looked like worn out bums as they walked up the side of the Mississippi. They dragged their feet, and cooked like eggs in the hot Louisiana sun. They had a thirty-five mile walk ahead of them. The bad karma accumulated between them could have powered the gravitational force of a black hole, but, like most bad people, they didn’t even think to blame themselves for their problems.
Somewhere on the astral plane the council of deities constructed a majestic ethereal ballroom to host the gambling and celebrations surrounding the main event on Discordia. When Plague and his cohorts gave up and turned back, ancient gods clinked champagne glasses and had a good laugh at the warlords’ expense. On one side of the ballroom demons and devils booed and jeered. The two sides cast taunts at each other, and the insults got nasty.
The crowd threatened to become violent, but only momentarily. Yahweh’s security guards, archangels armed with long flaming swords, waded into the crowd and broke up the altercation before it got started. Gatherings of gods and devils often turned rowdy, and security was always prepared for the worst. A dampening field was placed over the ballroom as a precaution, so none of the entities inside could materialize weapons or outside assistance. There was nothing worse than a brawl between armed gods and devils.
At a table near the bar Freya and Shiva, wearing a human shape, shared drinks and made small talk for most of the evening. The two gods started dating during the ‘60’s on Earth, and hit it off sexually. Freya didn’t think it would last too much longer. She would have broken up with Shiva already, but he knew how to push her buttons in bed.
Freya was growing bored with the evening, but Shiva bet heavily on the game’s outcome. There was no chance he would leave in the middle, and she didn’t want to sleep alone that night. Freya went to the bathroom. When she got back she asked Shiva for a progress report.
“The five bad asses had a night of bad luck and gave up pursuit. They were only five miles from Louis’ party. The devils think somebody interfered with the action. That was the ruckus you probably heard a minute ago. Nobody cheated, though. Those five warlords had it coming to them. You can’t go around killing everyone in sight for a thousand years and expect things to always go your way. The universe doesn’t work that way.
“The devils know the score, same as everybody else, they’re just sore losers. A few of them bet heavily that Plague would end the game before Louis made it to New Orleans. That’s a suckers bet, in my opinion. They had to make it to New Orleans. That’s where all the action is,” Shiva carried on at length.
“What happened with Jesus and Lena?” Freya asked. It was the only part of the action she cared about.
“Oh, no. You’re going to be so mad. They had the hottest sex while you were in the bathroom. I can’t believe you missed that part. I told you to wait a little while longer.”
Freya lost her temper and smashed her hand down on the table. “I had to pee, Shiva. Damn it. All that build up, and I missed the sex scene,” she pouted.
“You can watch it on replay,” Shiva consoled her. “They got married the next morning, along with Rosie and Louis. I don’t know if anybody won anything on that. The twist surprised the hell out of just about everybody, gods and devils alike.”
“Human girls are so lucky,” Freya muttered under her breath.
“What was that, honey?”
“I said, ‘Onion curls are so yucky.’” She lied. The last thing she wanted to do was discuss her feelings with Shiva, especially while he was drinking and gambling. He looked confused by her response, but he didn’t say anything.
They both turned their attention to the giant mystical hologram floating above the ballroom floor. The action went split screen when Plague went after Louis’ trail, and then another screen popped up when the men and women of Louis’ party split up. The screen that displayed Plague’s progress shrunk and disappeared when the warlords gave up on the chase, and the other two screens expanded to take up the extra space. On one screen Jesus, Louis and Michael floated in the middle of Lake Ponchartrain, so far from shore they couldn’t see land in any direction. On the other screen Rosie and Lena dished about their new husbands as they rode through the fields of South Louisiana.
“I don’t get it. Rosie was abducted and transported to Discordia against her will. Why didn’t she tell her companions sooner? I mean, she got rescued, but she didn’t talk about herself at all. I never understand human women,” Shiva griped.
Freya listened to Shiva’s stupid remarks all the time without saying anything, but she decided not to let that one go by. “She was drugged, raped and brutalized, both on Earth and on Discordia. The question in my mind is not, ‘Why didn’t she tell someone sooner?’ The question in my mind is, ‘How is she able to talk at all?’ I’m surprised she didn’t lose her mind completely because of such an experience. Not only that, a lot of men consider rape victims damaged goods. I think she showed incredible courage to open up about it to Louis. He might have turned his back on her.”
“Not him. He was too horny. He fell in love with her after one orgasm. What a lightweight,” Shiva chuckled.
Freya resisted the impulse to claw Shiva’s eyes out. She was so tired of his constant egotism and snide, sexist remarks. Freya stopped talking about Rosie, because Shiva wouldn’t listen anyway. Freya admired the young human woman, even if she was a bit of a tart. Freya often wanted to let go of her sexual inhibitions, so she understood the attraction.
“Boy, that Lena sure is a slut. The organizers really hit a home run when they added her to the cast. She can take it with the best of ‘em, I’d wager,” Shiva guffawed.
Freya once again controlled her aggressive tendencies. She felt more sorry for Lena than any other person in the game. Freya thought that everybody could see Lena was the product of her background and upbringing, but Shiva was too blinded by his own machismo to notice. Freya had to say something about it.
“The poor girl was molested at an early age. Lena made some bad decisions, but I don’t think it’s fair to call her a slut. She didn’t go off in that fortress to find men to have sex with. She didn’t seduce Louis or the priest, and she didn’t try to get in on the lesbian action. She fell in love with Jesus because he rescued her from that sort of life. Can’t you see? Are you so stupid you can’t see that, Shiva?” Freya ranted.
“What are you talking about? The little slut wanted to get it on with Rosie at one point. Are we watching the same thing? Oh, I forgot you missed Lena’s sex scene. Well, she really is all pro, Freya.”
Shiva’s smug attitude drove Freya insane with rage. She decided that she could not let him get away with it. “I want to make a side wager with you Shiva, off the official books,” she told the Hindu god with a wicked gleam in her eyes.
“What could you be thinking, Freya? You don’t follow these events enough to know how they work. I won’t take advantage of your ignorance. Focus on what you know best,” he gave her a naughty smirk.
Freya almost came unglued, but she didn’t let it show. “Maybe I want you to take advantage of me,” she said in a sultry voice, laying out the bait. “Don’t you want to hear what I have to say, Shiva?”
“Okay, peaches. What do you have in mind?”
“I bet you the married couples stay together. I bet you Lena and Rosie not only remain faithful to their new husbands, but make good wives as well. What do you say?” Freya put before him.
“If Louis or Jesus gets killed, then they won’t be together. You see, this is what I’m talking about. The event isn’t about the two couples. The event is about whether or not Louis and Jesus can defeat thousands of bad guys, and Asmodeus. You don’t want to make that bet. The odds are about a million to one against the junkie and the assassin even surviving, much less having successful marriages afterwards,” Shiva lectured her condescendingly. “I’d say the odds against their marriages are about ten million to one.”
“Louis is a recovering drug addict, Shiva, not a junkie. There’s a difference. And I do want to make the bet, regardless of the odds. Don’t you want to know the terms?”
“Is this one of your sex games, Freya? Okay, tell me the terms.”
“If you win, then I’ll be your slave for a hundred earth years…”
“I knew it,” Shiva interrupted her with a laugh.
“…but if I win, then you have to be mine for the same amount of time,” she finished.
“You’re a real ball of fire, Freya. You’re on,” Shiva agreed readily.
“It’s off the books, but I want an official witness,” she insisted.
“I always knew you were a freak, but I didn’t suspect you got off on public humiliation. We don’t need a witness. I trust you.”
“I don’t trust you, Shiva. I want a witness to the wager,” she remained firm.
“Who do you have in mind?” Shiva began to relish the thought of having Freya helpless. If she wanted a witness, then she would have her witness.
“How about Archangel Gabriel?” she suggested.
“You can’t be serious. You don’t want all of the angels to know about your sexual exploits, Freya. Think of someone else.”
“Yahweh is way too busy to bother with something like this. No, it has to be Gabriel.”
“Hey, I’ll do it. You’re the one who’ll be experiencing all the shame and humiliation.”
“So it’s a bet?”
“It’s a bet,” Shiva consented.
“I’ll go get the Archangel,” Freya told him smugly.
Freya got up from the table and set off through the crowd of carousing deities and devils. While she searched for Gabriel she congratulated herself on her triumph. She made a list in her head of all the chores she would make Shiva do. She needed someone to paint her castle in Norway, and she figured Shiva deserved the job for being such a pompous ass.
She knew she finally won an argument with her boyfriend, because in her mind the outcome was obvious. Freya thought that anybody with sense could see that the organizers of the game had set the event up for a sequel. She knew the organizers focused on the developing relationships for a reason. She crossed her fingers, and prayed to God that she was right.
In her mind she heard God say, “I always liked you, Freya. You’re a smart girl. You should dump that Shiva, though. He’s below you.”
Freya jumped in the air, clicked her heels and gave a little shout of victory. God had sent her a private message that she was right. God knew she wouldn’t tell anyone about it, not that anyone could have objected if they found out. God was not subject to the same rules as everyone else. Freya thanked Him silently, and then she thought about what God said.
She prayed, “Do you really think I should dump him, God?”
God answered, “Yes, I do. You’re wasting your time with that freak. Why don’t you go out with my son? He’s a nice boy.”
Freya thought about it, and she knew God was right. She quit looking for Gabriel. She prayed one last question, “What is the Christ doing tonight, God?”
God replied, “He’s playing Grand Theft Auto. Come on over.”
“I’ll be right over, God.”
Freya walked out of the ballroom and headed for heaven. She left Shiva sitting at the table with a stupid look on his face. She hated to let him get away from the bet, but God rarely set up His only son on a date. A girl couldn’t turn down an invitation like that, but she hoped the savior didn’t have any intimacy issues. Her last thought, as she left the astral plane, was whether she should change into something more conservative for the date. She didn’t want to appear over eager. After all, Jesus Christ was the son of God, not some college guy.
Chapter Fifteen:
The Myth of Free Will
Jesus, Louis and Michael floated in the middle of Lake Ponchartrain, so far from shore they couldn’t see land in any direction. Each of them rowed in turn throughout the course of the day, but once they lost sight of land they didn’t seem to make any headway at all. They consulted the compass and pored over the navigational charts Louis brought along. The three men had no sextant or GPS device, nor any other navigational tools or skills, so the charts and maps provided them with no help whatsoever. The maps would only help if the raft reached a shoreline. There were no landmarks or guideposts in the vast emptiness of Ponchartrain. The group had no idea where they were.
“I guess it’s too late to change our minds about traveling over land,” Louis quipped as he stared out into the endless waves and water.
“I knew this was a big lake. I drove over the causeway bridge a few times back in college, on my way to Fat City. I never imagined we could row all day without seeing shore, though. Michael, are you keeping a close eye on our heading?” Jesus checked with the priest for the umpteenth time.
“It says we’re pointed southeast. All day long it has read southeast. If we keep rowing in one direction, then we’re bound to reach shore eventually,” Michael spoke as he consulted the compass again.
The conversation revisited the same topic so many times, Louis was reminded of a Star Trek episode he once saw. The Enterprise got stuck in a time loop, and was only saved from certain doom by a talented staff of scriptwriters. Louis shuddered. Their situation in the raft was real, and much more serious. There were no commercial breaks, and they faced drowning instead of cancellation.
“I’m sorry fellas, but I’m worn out again. I’m doing my best to do my share of the rowing, but I don’t have the strength to match you two. Somebody else needs to take over,” Louis apologized sincerely.
Louis’ turns with the paddles were getting shorter and shorter. The less he could do, the more Jesus and Michael had to do. Louis worried that sooner or later none of them would have the strength to paddle, and Lake Ponchartrain did not have currents. They would be stuck in the middle of the lake, at the mercy of the wind and the water.
“Don’t panic, Louis. I’ve been watching you, and I can tell you’re worried,” Michael attempted to reassure him. “We’re not lost, and we are moving. It’s just a very big lake. I know it was around thirty miles across the causeway bridge. I estimated that we started near the northeast corner, and we’re traveling for the southeast corner. That’s fifty miles, at least. Nobody said this was going to be easy.”
“I’m concerned about our ability to keep paddling this big rubber raft for fifty miles or more. If we get too tired to paddle, we may never see shore again,” Louis fretted in a shaky voice. He always wrung his hands together when he worried, and at that moment he looked like a frightened child.
“You worry too much, and you definitely complain too damned much,” Jesus observed as he took up the oars. “I’ll never get tired enough to strand us in the middle of the lake, Louis. I’m impatient about making it across, but I have no doubt that we will. Calm your nerves, for all our sakes.”
A slight breeze started in the late morning, and gave the three men much needed relief from the blazing sun. There wasn’t a cloud in the sky. Even the heat and the physical exertion couldn’t detract from the incredible beauty of the clear blue water under the crisp blue sky. Occasionally a large fish would break through the surface to gobble a bug, or a much smaller fish. Sea birds flew in flocks overhead, and dove into the water at regular intervals to snatch up food from beneath the waves. Life and death struggles played out before the men’s eyes on many levels, and yet the scene was phenomenally peaceful.
The sky changed and the wind picked up as the sun neared the end of its westward journey through the sky. Dark clouds rose up from the Gulf of Mexico, and the waves became choppy. The worst possible scenario became an awful probability. The makers of the raft designed it to float on slow moving rivers, small ponds or swimming pools. The raft wasn’t intended for use in heavy waves and torrential rain, which was exactly what nature had in store.
Jesus rowed with all his might, vainly hoping he might at least bring them within sight of land before the storm struck. His early confidence had given way to grave concern when the towering cumulous clouds filled the sky. The pleasant ripples that rolled across the surface of the lake for most of the day quickly rose two to three feet, and the raft bounced up and down with nauseating rapidity.
Incapacitating nausea took possession of Louis’ entire existence. The young man didn’t know that he was prone to seasickness until that moment. He wished that he had never found out. He leaned over the side of the raft and vomited, until his throat burned and his stomach muscles felt like they were torn in half.
Michael prepared for the real possibility that the raft would overturn. They found five life preservers in the house in Ascension Parish. Michael took the two that weren’t in use and tied them together, and then fastened them securely to their backpacks. He hoped to save some of their gear in the event that the raft capsized.
“We may flip over, Louis. You do know how to swim, correct?” Michael had guessed that the young man could swim, but, with dangerous conditions looming, assumptions could lead to fatalities.
“Yes, Father. I would have told you all about it if I didn’t,” Louis answered miserably. So extreme was Louis’ seasickness he almost longed to drown, but he would never say something like that in front of the priest.
“Everybody hold hands. I don’t want anyone to get separated in the storm,” Jesus insisted. He gave up on the paddling. The effort was no longer effective in the wind and waves.
The overhead clouds made good on the threat of heavy rain and lightning, and a drenching downpour enveloped the men. With the storm came the darkness of night, increasing the dangerous conditions exponentially. Rainwater accumulated in the bottom of the raft. The trio focused all their energy on attempting to scoop and splash the water out into the lake with their bare hands. They were fighting a losing battle against the rainwater when a bigger problem arose. The wind kicked up bigger and bigger waves, until one finally crashed down on top of the bailing men. One side of the raft dipped several feet beneath the surface, emptying the contents of the vessel into the lake.
The three men suddenly found themselves in the water of Lake Ponchartrain. The raft surfaced beside them upside down. They frantically grabbed onto the slick underside and each other. Their backpacks floated in the water a few feet away, buoyed by the extra life preservers. It was too dark for anyone to see the gear, until a flash of lightning illuminated the bundle several feet from the raft. Louis managed to snag the gear, but he had doubts they would ever need their belongings again. The rain intensified rather than abate, and all three of them feared for their lives.
“Jesus, I want you to know that I appreciate all that you did to try to help me. Whatever happened in your past, you’re a good man Jesus,” Louis yelled over the crashing of the waves and the wind.
“Just hold on, Louis. We’re not dead yet,” Jesus shouted back, interpreting the hopelessness of Louis’ statement.
“God will save us, Louis! Have no fear!” Michael screamed into the night. He did so not only to bolster Louis courage, but also his own. He prayed Hail Mary’s aloud over and over. The others could not hear him, but he knew that God could.
Many long minutes went by. They didn’t stand a chance of righting the raft until the waves subsided in intensity, so they did the only thing they could do. They held on for dear life. Jesus and Louis prayed along with the priest, each in his own way. They all made peace with their creator, and prepared to cross over into the afterlife.
As if in a dream, the sound of marine engines reached the men’s ears through the roar of the storm. The three men saw a spotlight gliding back and forth through the rain. Soon the running lights and the shape of a ship came into view. The ship drew closer, and the spotlight centered directly on the capsized raft and the pitiable floating men. The ship was a fifty-foot Gulfstream yacht, and it was the most wonderful thing the men in the water had ever seen. At that point they didn’t care who piloted the vessel.
The ship cut its engines and drifted within a few feet of their position. They saw two men on the deck cast lines down to them. Jesus grabbed one of the lines, and Michael and Louis took hold of another. The sailors on deck hauled them down the length of the starboard bow, to a platform at the rear of the yacht set just above water level.
One sailor pulled Louis out of the water and the other assisted the priest, while Jesus found a small ladder and climbed out on his own. The three waterlogged adventurers sat down on the deck, gasping and spluttering. They were unsure of their new circumstances, but ecstatic to be on a solid surface. Jesus stood up to greet the people who saved their lives.
The two sailors were dressed in yellow hooded rain suits. Their faces were difficult to see in the driving rain and the dim illumination of the deck lighting. When Jesus regained his footing to ascertain their identity, the two held out their hands, palms exposed. They did so to demonstrate that they weren’t armed, and Jesus relaxed a bit.
One of the sailors rushed away, and into a forward cabin. He came back with three wool blankets, which he passed to Jesus and his companions. The two sailors then gestured for the adventurers to follow them, presumably to meet the captain. Michael stepped forward first, confident that no harm would befall him. Jesus and Louis fell in line behind him.
Louis leaned close to Jesus and asked, “Why won’t they say anything?”
Jesus whispered in his ear, “I don’t know, but if they meant us any harm they would have left us in the water.”
The group passed through a sliding glass door to the ship’s main bridge, which was air conditioned and felt cold to the wet men. A man of slight frame wearing a golf shirt and a captain’s hat sat behind the wheel of the ship. His skin had an olive complexion, and he had wavy black hair. The captain wore a thick gold chain around his neck, and a gold Omega watch on his wrist. He swiveled in his seat to examine the men as they walked through the door.
“Henrí, would you fetch dry towels and robes for our visitors?” the captain requested of one of the silent sailors. The sailor called Henrí went down some steps at the rear of the bridge. The other sailor followed him.
“My name is Lucius. I am your savior, in more ways than you are aware of yet. My helpers are called Henrí and Dennis. Don’t be put off by their silence. They’re good lads. They just can’t speak,” the captain spoke leisurely to the dripping men.
Henrí came back up the steps with robes and towels. Louis was about to shed his wet clothes right there in the control room. Henrí motioned for him to stop and follow him down the stairs. Jesus didn’t trust the situation, and it showed. He reached out a hand to stop Louis from walking away.
“Please, Señor Mendoza, give us your trust. I can assure you I have only your best interests at heart. We will talk once you dry off. The leather seats and electronics here in the bridge are quite sensitive to water,” Lucius chided the assassin, “and I can’t have you dripping water everywhere. Please follow Henrí, and I will explain everything when you return”
Jesus relented with a sweep of his arm toward the steps. Michael and Louis proceeded after Henrí, with the assassin right behind them. The quarters below deck were sumptuous, and the adventurers found the luxury unnerving. It had only been a few minutes since they clung to their capsized raft in deep water, miles from land. The comforts of the yacht seemed almost alien.
Henrí showed them to a small bathroom. They shed their wet clothes and passed them out to the ship’s mate one at a time. Louis finished first, and sat down on a leather-covered sofa to wait for his companions. While he waited he admired the softness of the robe he wore, and wondered at the thread count.
Louis’ eyes wandered over the appointments and décor of the living quarters. The walls and floors were lined with polished mahogany, and every visible fixture was untarnished brass. All of the furniture was upholstered in leather. Bose speakers hung in the topmost corners of the main room, evidence of a hidden entertainment system somewhere behind the mahogany paneling. Louis speculated about what else was hidden in the room, but his musings were cut short when Michael joined him on the sofa.
“My prayers have often been answered, but never so quickly and in such an elegant fashion,” Michael quipped with amusement in his eyes. “I wouldn’t have been surprised if dolphins or mermaids saved our lives, but rescue by a luxury yacht never crossed my mind. Truly it is wonderful to be in the Lord’s good graces.”
“The captain knew Jesus’ name, so that means he knows who we are. I hope you are right. I hope he was sent by God,” Louis had already started to worry. He alternated between wringing his hands absentmindedly and toying with the belt of the bathrobe.
Jesus didn’t take long at all to change. The assassin made his way forward from the bathroom, while Henrí slunk away with all their wet clothes in his arms. The whole affair made Jesus nervous. He knew there weren’t too many yachts in the South Louisiana of Discordia. The captain knew their names, indicating that their rescue was not a matter of coincidence. Now Jesus didn’t have any clothes on, and it didn’t help his sense of security.
They were all nude beneath their robes. Louis felt downright vulnerable. Jesus readied himself to fight with his bare hands. Though they had taken his clothes, they could not take his martial arts skills. Michael alone was unaffected by his state of undress. The priest felt right at home, and started to hum an old Irish hymn.
“Shall we go talk to our captain?” Jesus asked his companions after a few moments of listening to the priest hum.
“There’s no need. Your captain has come to speak to you,” Lucius spoke from the top of the stairs to the bridge. “I hope you aren’t too inconvenienced by our lack of fresh clothes. I didn’t think to bring along extra clothes for you, because I didn’t expect to pull you out of the water. It took slightly longer to find you than I planned, and the storm blew up.”
“You know who we are, but we have no idea who you are. You said your name is Lucius, but that tells us nothing. How is it that you knew where to find us at all?” Jesus lost his patience with the small talk and aimed straight for the heart of the matter.
“I’m just like Louis. I am one of the old gods,” Lucius told the assassin, “or, more accurately, I am the human identity of an ancient deity. Louis is also the human identity of a god. Whereas Louis’ divine alter ego is called Aleph, mine is called Omega. I knew where to find you because Omega can communicate with Aleph, regardless of the time and space between them.”
Jesus sank down in a leather recliner, propped up his elbows and buried his face in his hands. He knew that if Lucius started the conversation off with such information as that, then the rest of the chat was going to hurt his head. Louis pricked up his ears and straightened his back, attentive for useful information. He kept his fingers crossed that Lucius could help them. Michael lost his air of contentment, and became the most untrusting member of the group. He remembered the scriptures that commanded men to turn their backs on the old gods.
“This conversation may come as a shock to some of you,” Lucius glanced at the priest, “and you may want to calm your nerves. I have Scotch, vodka, bourbon and beer. Would anyone like a drink?”
Louis sprang to his feet and asked, “Do you have cola?”
“Yes, I have Coca-Cola,” Lucius answered.
“Bourbon and coke then, my man. I think we’re going to be friends, gods or not. Anybody who offers me alcohol can’t be all bad,” Louis beamed.
“Aren’t you in recovery, Louis?” Michael responsibly cautioned him.
“Not by choice, Father Mikey. Pour just a little more in there, Lucius. That’s it. Thank you so much,” Louis ran off at the mouth. He showed the effects of the alcohol before he ever took a sip, one of the signs of advanced alcoholism.
“I wouldn’t mind some Scotch, as long as we won’t be going into battle in anytime soon,” Jesus spoke up from the recliner.
“No, there won’t be any combat today. Rocks?”
Lucius held up an ice tray, and Jesus nodded his head. The captain put a couple of cubes in a drink glass, poured a double shot of Glenfiddich over the ice and handed the drink to the assassin. Lucius made himself a martini and sat down in one of the cabin’s chairs. Jesus, Louis and the captain drank in silence for a minute, while Michael sullenly watched the rain smack against the porthole.
“Before we start this conversation, I would like to know if all of you wanted to die. You were all heading for certain death. Is that what you wanted?” Lucius inquired in a soft voice.
“I certainly don’t want to die. I thought a path to victory would present itself once we got to New Orleans. We didn’t have much of a choice,” Louis answered defensively. He was almost finished with his first drink already. He enjoyed the feeling of warmth in his stomach as the whiskey worked its magic.
“Louis is right. We didn’t have a choice. The forces of goodness lost a fortress because of us, and a lot of uninvolved people lost their lives. We couldn’t allow that to happen again. We may die in New Orleans, but it’s the right thing to do,” Jesus told Lucius between sips of Glenfiddich. “Besides, things have a crazy way of working out for us. We may succeed.”
“You will definitely succeed,” Lucius started his speech, “because you aren’t going to New Orleans. You’re going to come with me. Louis needs time to achieve internal harmony.”
Michael interrupted him, “You look like just another man to me. Why should we trust you?”
“Because the alternative almost certainly means death,” Lucius answered patiently. Louis held up his empty glass, and Lucius signaled for him to help himself.
Lucius continued, “Louis, there’s no reason for you and Aleph to exist at odds with each other. Once you stabilize your condition, you will be in control of immense power. If you don’t learn how to do that, then the internal conflict will destroy you. You could defeat Asmodeus and gain possession of the stone, given a lot of luck. However, unless you come to grips with your divinity, you’re still a goner.”
“I really just want this thing out of me. I don’t want to lose my humanity,” Louis complained. “I want to go back home, to my normal life.”
“You consider what you had a normal life?” Lucius mocked him gently. “I hate to tell you this, but you need to know. That thing inside you is the real you. You have a human component, but you’ve never been merely human. You’ll never go back to a simple, mortal life. That part of you is gone forever. You’ll be a lot happier when you forget about it, and accept who you really are.”
“I don’t believe what you’re telling him, Lucius. Yahweh cast the old gods out of heaven. For Louis to accept the creature inside him would be to incur God’s wrath. I’m here to prevent that from happening. I won’t let you poison his mind,” Michael informed him adamantly.
Lucius expressed his amusement with a musical laugh. It wasn’t a human sound. “I don’t want any conflict with you father. I had hoped there would be no problems between us. I have no choice but to tell you the truth, and you aren’t going to like it. You’ve all been lied to, Michael Flannery, or told truths you didn’t understand. You’ve all been puppets on strings. Your struggles were staged simply to entertain a bunch of gods and devils.”
“That can’t be the only reason this is happening. Our lives mean more than that,” Jesus told Lucius tensely. Nobody in the room was smiling.
“It’s the biggest reason, Jesus, whether or not you believe it,” Lucius told him flatly.
Michael spoke up, “He’s telling the truth about that, Jesus. A lot of the action on this planet takes place only to amuse immortals. An angel told me. How was that supposed to change my mind, Lucius?”
“If you believe me, then it should be easy for you to understand. There’s only one way for Louis to win the game. He must become the god inside him. He stands almost no chance of beating Asmodeus as a mortal. I would think you could understand what I’m telling you,” Lucius chided the priest.
“I knew that old gods and devils enjoyed watching our struggles here, but I didn’t know that was the reason this all took place. I feel so stupid. All of the information was right in front of me. The immortals don’t just watch us. They set us up,” Jesus said with frustration. He thought about all of the unusual plot twists that happened to him on Discordia over the centuries. The assassin saw the world in an entirely new light, and it angered him.
“That fact makes no difference,” Michael insisted, trying to regain control of the conversation. He considered it a matter of grave importance to keep Louis as human as possible.
“It makes all the difference in the world,” Louis said bitterly. “Our lives are nothing but a joke, or a movie. You knew about this all along, and you didn’t say anything, Michael? Like Jesus, I thought the immortals watched us struggle. I didn’t know all our struggles were caused by them. It may sound like a minor difference, but not when people die all around you.”
“It doesn’t change anything. We still need to fight the good fight, and do the right thing,” Michael reminded Louis desperately.
“No, it changes everything. I feel that it is my personal responsibility to ruin the entertainment. I’m prepared to do everything in my power to change the rules. So, Lucius, what did you have in mind?”
“I have a massive offshore oil rig in the Gulf. It’s like an island,” Lucius explained, “only it’s manmade. It has all the modern luxuries of Earth, it’s secure and it’s private. Nobody will be able to bother us there. Louis will have a peaceful environment to gain control of his identity, and perfect his magic. You two will be there to make sure his body and his soul are safe. I’m offering you a sweet deal.”
“What are you getting out of this?” Michael voiced his continuing suspicions.
“Aleph is my brother. I haven’t had his companionship in a very long time. Yahweh killed him,” Lucius said coldly. “Louis can make his own decisions, priest.”
“Louis, your immortal soul hangs in the balance here. Please don’t do anything to jeopardize your standing in the eyes of God,” Michael pleaded.
“So what am I supposed to do, Michael? Have Lucius drop us at the next pier so we can waltz into New Orleans unprepared? This is the first option we’ve had that didn’t involve death and mayhem. I think you’re allowing your religious beliefs to cloud your better judgment,” Louis said pointedly. “Besides, nobody else has had any ideas about how I should deal with Aleph. Your disapproval is misguided, Michael.”
“I have to agree with Louis, Michael. We had no plan at all before Lucius pulled us out of the water. I don’t think it will hurt to accept the captain’s offer,” Jesus told the priest in a kindly tone.
“I can’t stop either one of you, if this is what you want to do,” Michael sighed with defeat. “Lucius, you said my God killed your brother, who lives inside Louis. Why did God kill Aleph?”
“Because Aleph opposed Him. Aleph defended the reign of the old gods with his life. It took fourteen thousand earth years for him to be reincarnated inside Louis,” Lucius answered wistfully.
“Let’s see to it that doesn’t happen again,” Jesus advised.
“These days Yahweh lets the old gods get away with just about anything,” Lucius explained. “The heavens and the astral plane have been at peace for thousands of years. The hostilities that surrounded Yahweh’s hostile takeover have long since cooled off. God has no further quarrel with Aleph. As long as Louis doesn’t want to attack God, then their relationship will remain peaceful.”
“I don’t mean to change the subject, but I married a great girl this morning. Taking her with me to an offshore drilling rig sounds like paradise to me. We need to pick her up,” Louis told Lucius.
“So you have decided to accept my offer?”
“Of course, dude. What else was I going to do? We were on our way to certain death,” Louis bantered. “I’m not going to turn down a fantastic offer because my priest has the jitters. I’ve had the jitters for days, and nobody paid any attention to me.”
Michael didn’t even hear what Louis said. The priest still couldn’t accept Lucius at face value. “If you’re a god, then why do you live here on Discordia, Lucius?”
“I don’t. I came here to help my brother return to ascendancy. I couldn’t bear the thought of somebody killing him while he was still waking up,” Lucius responded patiently. He knew the priest needed a lot of reassuring.
“That’s very kind of you, Lucius, or whatever your name is. Can we go get my wife?” Louis was growing weary of the priest’s persistent interruptions. The whiskey caused Louis to be slightly rude, and that wouldn’t improve with increased consumption.
“We will take steps to reunite you and Jesus with your wives, Louis,” Lucius guaranteed. “Father Flannery still has questions, however, and I would rather clear the air now than let the problem fester.”
“So you admit that you don’t have Louis best interests in mind. You care only about your brother,” Michael observed triumphantly. He thought he had found the information he needed to discredit the captain.
“I tried to tell you already, Michael. Louis is Aleph, and Aleph is Louis. They are just different aspects of the same being. Louis has suffered a lot for not having the help he needed to deal with that reality. I came to help as soon as I could. Please, Michael, accept my word. I only want to help.”
“I think it’s okay, padre,” Jesus told the priest. The assassin wanted to reunite with Lena and Rosie just as badly as Louis did, and Michael was holding up the reunion.
Michael didn’t listen. He thought that they were making a terrible mistake. He knew that they would be safe from the forces of evil in the gulf, but he didn’t want Louis to give up on his humanity. He didn’t believe that Louis had to embrace Aleph. The priest knew in his soul that Lucius had ulterior motives. Michael decided to leave the matter for another time, though, because his companions had already accepted Lucius.
“How do you propose we pick up the women, Lucius?” Michael changed the subject, to the one his companions were impatient to address.
“I really am a god, Michael, and a good one at that. I’ll open a portal to their location, and they can cross over to us without delay,” Lucius explained.
“You can do that?” Louis asked in awe.
“I can do a lot of things, and you’ll be able to as well, Louis. None of you have any idea what it means to be a god, do you? Natural laws don’t apply to gods. For example, I bought this yacht only a few hours ago in Galveston, Texas, back on Earth. I opened a portal and sailed directly from Galveston on Earth to Lake Ponchartrain on Discordia.”
“Why didn’t you buy the yacht in Slidell, or create your own yacht?” Louis probed Lucius with fascination.
“Maybe I gave you the wrong idea. Gods do have limitations. I can’t just pull anything out of thin air. To you this yacht is one item, but the yacht is comprised of thousands of different pieces. I could create each and every piece of this yacht one at a time, but not the entire yacht. So I had to buy it.
“I bought it in Galveston, because that was the closest place I could find this model. I wanted a loaded fifty-foot Gulfstream, and Slidell is too small to have one. This yacht is the top of the line. It has everything. I even have satellite radio, from Earth,” Lucius boasted.
“Here on Discordia? Kick ass. Can I play with it?” Louis scooted to the end of his seat.
“Be my guest. The entertainment system is behind that wall over there,” Lucius pointed to a large section of mahogany paneling.
Henrí returned with their clothes just as Louis got up to check out the yacht’s stereo. The ship’s mate put the clothes on the coffee table in front of the sofa. They were clean, dry and folded. Michael didn’t bother to ask how they got clean laundry so quickly. Jesus immediately went to get dressed.
“I need to go on deck to open a portal to the women,” Lucius said as he rose from his seat.
Louis immediately abandoned the stereo. He felt guilty that he forgot about the girls for a minute. He knew the whiskey was responsible. “Hold on, Lucius. I’m going with you,” Louis said.
“Dressed in a robe?” Michael asked dubiously.
“Why not? I think my robe is sexy,” Louis said. He shook his hips like a hula dancer, but he grabbed his boxer shorts and slipped them on.
As Louis and Lucius left the cabin, Michael shook his head. He hoped Louis didn’t drink very often. Acting as Louis’ spiritual adviser was turning out to be a frustrating job. Drunken buffoonery didn’t make matters easier.
Outside, on the deck of the yacht, the rain had slowed to a drizzle. Louis thought it felt good on his face and arms, so he took off his robe. He enjoyed the feeling of the wind. A few feet away Lucius opened the portal with very little preparation.
“If you can open a portal to the girls so easily, then why did you have to pick us up in a yacht, Lucius?”
“Because you were in the water, Louis.”
“Why didn’t you help us while we were on land?”
“I was having a disagreement with a few gods.”
“Which gods?”
“All of them,” Lucius answered with a smile. “Would you like to go across to get the girls, or should I?”
“I’ll do it, but where are they?”
“They’re in the house in Ascension Parish you all stayed in, just as you all agreed,” Lucius told him with a slight edge to his voice.
“How did you know that?” Louis asked quickly.
“I’m a god, Louis,” Lucius replied with irritation. He wasn’t sure about sharing whiskey with Louis again. It made the young man very talkative, almost foolishly so.
“When I get back you have to tell me about this disagreement with the gods,” Louis decreed. “I believe you’re one of the good guys, but you need to tell me everything.”
He stepped forward and through the portal without hesitation. Only a few seconds passed on the deck of the yacht, but Louis came back through wearing gray sweatpants and a white tee shirt. Rosie came through the portal next, followed by Lena. Dorothy and Elizabeth did not follow.
“The others aren’t coming, Lucius. You can close the portal,” Louis told the captain, his god brother Omega. The portal closed almost instantly.
“Where’s Jesus?” Lena asked.
“He’s below decks, Mrs. Mendoza,” Lucius answered. “I’ll show you the way.”
“We’ll be right along,” Louis told them. “I want to speak to Rosie privately for a minute.”
Rosie hugged him tightly for a long time. They kissed, and the rain stopped falling. She stroked Louis’ hair and looked deep into his eyes. Neither one of them said anything for a long time. Louis didn’t really have anything to say. He just wanted to hold his wife for a while before dealing with pressing issues.
“I can’t believe you’re alive. We thought you would all be killed in New Orleans. You have to tell me everything,” Rosie demanded.
“I will, but right now I still need to go over a few details with Lucius.”
Louis took Rosie by the hand and led her down into the yacht. The first thing they saw was Lena, making herself a drink while she grilled Jesus on the details of events since they were last together. Michael must have been getting dressed, because he was nowhere to be seen. Lucius was also absent, no doubt attending to the course of the vessel. Louis sat down with Rosie to ask and answer questions with the other couple. They all caught up on the events of the day.
After Jesus heard that Dorothy and Elizabeth would not be joining them, he asked Louis, “You were on the other side of the portal long enough to brief everyone on our plans? You were only gone a minute on this side.”
“No way. That’s pretty cool. I was in that weird house for about ten minutes,” Louis told him. “That’s something else I need to talk to Lucius about. He warped time somehow.”
“Are you really a god, Louis?” Lena asked. She had a doubtful expression on her face. Louis didn’t fit the classical description of a god.
“Lucius says that I’m the human part of a god. The god, Aleph, is supposedly his brother.”
“Do you believe him?” Rosie questioned him softly. She couldn’t believe she was lucky enough to have him. Only a few days earlier she was a slave, and her chances for survival were minimal. Now she was married to a god.
“I don’t know. I’m just glad we’re together, and we have a safe place to go to sort things out,” Louis answered her with a peck on her cheek. He remembered his manners and asked, “Would you like a drink, Rosie?”
“Yes, Louis. Could you make me one? It’ll help me relax,” she gave him a sly wink as she said it. Louis hopped up and went to the small bar in one corner of the cabin to make her a drink.
Michael came in fully dressed and said, “When we parted company this morning, I didn’t expect to see you two girls again so soon. Where’s Dorothy and Elizabeth?”
“They figured that if we were safe, then they had a duty to rejoin the friends they left behind. They’re going to wait a couple of days and ride back into Baton Rouge. Dorothy said they can get into the Quad, no matter how many soldiers are camped outside,” Lena told the priest.
“When did that happen? How did they know you would be safe?” Michael asked incredulously. He went to the bathroom only a few minutes earlier, and their entire party changed while he was gone.
“The portal we crossed through warped time slightly. I talked to Dorothy and Elizabeth for a few minutes before they made their decision,” Louis explained.
“I’m never going to get used to this place,” Michael lamented. He sighed and sat down next to Lena, who hugged him kindly. “Louis, would you make an old priest a drink? I need to unwind. There are so many things I can’t control, and I’m about as stressed out as a man can get. Maybe God won’t mind if I have just one drink.”
“Absolutely. One stiff drink coming right up,” Louis handed Rosie hers and started on another one.
Louis hummed as he poured the Scotch, and remembered the satellite radio system. After he passed Michael a double shot of Glenfiddich, Louis played with the radio until he found a station playing The Gorillaz. He turned it up loud enough to hear, but not so loud as to distract anyone from the conversation.
Lucius came back down the steps from the bridge a few minutes later. His expression betrayed no hint of anything he thought or felt. He refreshed his drink and sat down in the last empty seat. He took a long sip and then addressed Louis, “You wanted to talk to me about something?”
“I actually have a great many questions and concerns. For starters, you said you had a disagreement with the gods. That doesn’t sound good at all. Maybe you could enlighten me as to what we’re facing here,” Louis prompted the captain.
Lucius took another drink and started, “I’ll explain everything. A lot of the old gods and devils remember Aleph, and not all of them liked him. Aleph’s enemies found out he was reincarnated, inside you. They enacted a plan to destroy Aleph before he could awaken, by pushing you to self-destruction. Evil immortals were indirectly responsible for the death of your parents, and the constant stream of drugs, addicts and dealers through your life. They knew that if you died, the god inside you also died. They almost succeeded too.”
“That doesn’t make any sense. People have free will. There was no way for any divine agencies to know that Louis would throw his life away on drugs. They had his parent’s murdered so he would eventually overdose on drugs? I can’t buy that,” Michael expressed his skepticism.
“The plan worked, didn’t it? Louis did exactly what they thought he would,” Lucius pointed out.
“What if he hadn’t though, Lucius? What if Louis turned to religion for succor?”
“I guess we’ll never know the answer to the ‘what ifs’, because what happened already happened. I wish Louis had turned to God, Michael. It would have saved everyone a lot of trouble. Unfortunately, Louis turned to drugs and alcohol, and he’s here now.”
“Where were all the other gods while this was taking place?” Jesus wanted to know.
“Old gods aren’t like Yahweh, you see; they don’t know everything. At the last minute some of Aleph’s former friends and allies found out about the situation. It was too late to save Louis’ life on Earth, so they petitioned for him to be sent here.”
“That’s not what the demon that sent me here said,” Louis pointed out.
“Like I said, you’ve all been lied to in one way or another. Anyway, God loves everybody, Louis. He felt bad about killing Aleph way back in 12,000 BC, because Aleph wasn’t an evil god. Even though you did enough heroin to end your own life, God wanted you to have a second chance. A second chance here on Discordia isn’t like pure forgiveness, but it’s better than nothing.
“The word got out about Aleph, and that God decided to send him here. Your struggle here was quickly organized into an event. It was billed as the greatest sporting event in the history of this dimension. Gods and devils gathered in a grand ballroom on the astral plane, and wagered heavily on the outcome. That’s when I entered the story as a participant, rather than just an observer.
“As I already told you, Aleph was my brother. Early on I asked Yahweh to allow me to come to Discordia and intervene on your behalf. The council of deities forbids direct intervention in human affairs here, so God refused my request. He didn’t refuse me outright, however. Yahweh told me that if I could get approval from the organizers of the sporting event, then I could provide you with material support. Are you all with me so far?” Lucius asked.
“Hell, I can believe anything at this point,” Rosie giggled. She didn’t have much of a tolerance for alcohol, and she was tipsy already.
“I’m not sure. I mean, before tonight I believed exclusively in free will. Now you’re saying that our human condition is an organized sporting event for immortals. I believe you, but can you explain that a little better?” Jesus asked from his seat in the recliner. He was enjoying the narrative.
“Not every struggle on Discordia is an organized event. The immortals enjoy lots of drama and action. Without it there is no event. The event is carefully planned out. A date is set for the event, and a location is conjured to suit the occasion. On that night the immortals gather to watch the action. It’s a black tie affair, with lots of gambling, drinking and socializing. The organizers go all out to make the events classy.
“Being an event organizer carries a lot of prestige with it, so not just any god can be an organizer. The current committee consists of Allah, Buddha, Krishna and Isis. They are extremely powerful gods. They all qualify as old gods, but really they’re on the cutting edge of divinity. I was very nervous when I approached them with my plan.”
“Your plan. Far out,” Lena put in from Jesus’ lap. She was on the way to being plastered. She fixed a very strong drink, and she didn’t weigh much.
“Yes, Lena, my plan. Yahweh said that if I could get the organizers’ approval, then I could help my brother. I knew that the powerful gods on the events committee wouldn’t grant my request out of the goodness of their hearts. I decided to play on their lust for prestige and recognition. I told the organizers that I could guarantee them unsurpassed fame and notoriety for this event, if they agreed to my terms.
“They wouldn’t fall for a lie, so I had to come up with something that would genuinely make the crowds go wild. I proposed that the planned event, where you all marched into New Orleans and most likely got torn to pieces, be concluded on a cliff hanger. That alone would provoke a strong reaction among the audience, mostly anger I’m sure, but I still needed a hook. In exchange for being able to provide you with material and spiritual assistance, I offered my own life. When the time comes for the showdown with Asmodeus in New Orleans, I’ll be fighting beside you as a mortal man. I’ll still have a lot of power, but I won’t be immortal,” Lucius finished his story in a grave tone.
“You gave up immortality to help me. I don’t know what to say,” Louis barely spoke above a whisper. He finally understood why Lucius reacted so strangely to Michael’s doubts. He had encountered more kind, giving people in Discordia, in just a few days, than he had in years back on Earth. Now he met a god who sacrificed immortality to help him.
“There was a riot when it was announced that the event was to be continued, but event security got it under control. Interest in the finale went through the roof when the details were announced. Betting on the first half broke records, but betting on the second has already almost doubled that number. It seems I face two-to-one odds against survival. I think the odds makers were overly optimistic,” Lucius told them wryly.
“We all appreciate your sacrifice, but we don’t need your doubts. Louis is going to succeed,” Rosie informed him resolutely. She wasn’t upset or angry with what Lucius said, she merely had faith in her newfound love.
“Why do I have to fight Asmodeus for the emerald? What difference does it make? Why can’t we just live out our days in peace?” Louis sought for a way out. He didn’t like being manipulated into anything, and most of his recent life was staged.
“You need to destroy the barriers between your reincarnated divine identity and your human awareness. You can minimize the division through practicing magic, lucid dreams, deep meditation and other new age mumbo jumbo, but you’ll never be whole as a god or a person until you have the emerald. God said you have to find it, because that’s what you need to do. It’s too late to live in peace, Louis. You live in Discordia now,” Lucius lectured Louis as if he were speaking to an elementary school student. Lucius wondered how many more pointless questions he could answer.
“We’ll have plenty of time to discuss all of these things after we get to the offshore rig,” Lucius told the group. “I’m sure you want to know about that, too. The drilling platform exists in a dimensional fold. It straddles the dimensional barrier between Discordia and Earth. It pumps real oil, which I sell for real money back on Earth. The business of godliness requires a lot of capital. I earn my money with Gulf oil. It wasn’t easy to set up, and it took a long time to turn a profit. Now that it’s working, however, it has become a very lucrative investment.
“Nobody will find us there. I have placed spells of concealment on us, the yacht, my crew and the drilling rig. We’re going to spend a lot of time out there in the Gulf, training and planning. All our lives are on the line, and I don’t want to die. If anybody wants to die instead, I can drop you off in New Orleans,” Lucius glanced at the priest.
“No, nobody wants to die, Lucius. I’ll take your word for everything, Lucius. Don’t betray my trust, though. God and I are very close,” Michael warned, and he was serious.
“Why can’t we just cross back to Earth from the drilling platform?” Rosie asked. “You said it straddles both dimensions.”
“Because God said so. That’s just the way it is. I’m sorry,” Lucius apologized with sincerity. He knew all about the horrors Rosie experienced. He watched it on the big screen back on the astral plane.
“I know more than I ever wanted to know. The only thing I need to know now is where we sleep.” Louis squeezed Rosie’s thigh while he fished for an answer.
“The sleeping quarters are to the aft of the bathroom where you changed clothes, Louis. Before we break up this meeting, I want to apologize that I couldn’t intervene sooner. Things will get better from here on out, at least until we have to face Asmodeus. Besides, everything happens for a reason. At least you lovebirds got married,” Lucius looked on the bright side.
“I’m just glad you showed up when you did, Lucius. I have a lot more questions, but nothing that can’t wait until morning,” Jesus said as he patted Lena on the rump and rose from the recliner.
“It was nice to meet you. Thank you for saving our husbands’ lives,” Lena expressed her gratitude with a smile.
“We’ll talk more tomorrow. You have to understand that I find all of this hard to keep up with. I was sure we were all doomed, and now we’re on a luxury yacht. I need a little time to adjust to the idea of divine intervention,” Rosie said apologetically as she pulled Louis toward the sleeping quarters. She wasn’t sleepy at all, but she made a big show of yawning before they walked out.
“Think of this as a new beginning, Michael. I know you have doubts about me,” Lucius conceded, “and the things I told you, but before this is over with you’ll thank me. You may have thought you were all going to New Orleans of your own free will, but, here on Discordia, free will is a myth. The best thing you can do is accept that, and use the information to your advantage.”
“It’s hard for me to accept that, but you got what you wanted, for now,” Michael expressed his reservations. He needed time to reflect and pray, for Louis’ soul, and for everybody else.
“Now if you will pardon me, I need to attend to the task of sailing this ship,” Lucius excused himself. The ship’s captain exited the cabin for the bridge.
Jesus and Lena headed for the rear of the ship to bed down. When Lena saw their choices, she complained that next time they should get first choice of sleeping accommodations. She said it loudly enough for the whole ship to hear, and heard Rosie giggle from behind the locked door of the occupied cabin. Rosie had snagged the best cabin for herself and Louis.
They all still had a million questions, but they could think of better things to do than sit up worrying all night. The lovers retired to pass the time in each other’s arms. Michael poured himself another stiff drink. He decided to drink the night away, and say his prayers on the morrow.
The yacht sailed forward into the darkness, heading for the Gulf of Mexico. The ships voiceless sailors gathered on the bridge with their captain, and shared understanding in total silence. The adventurers had gotten a reprieve, but everything came with a price. Lucius paid for the privilege of helping them with his immortality. The group would have time to train for the battle with Asmodeus, but that gave Asmodeus time to prepare as well. The old gods and the devils were furious that their game had been interrupted, and many of them vowed gruesome revenge on Aleph and his allies. The group may have thought that their troubles were over, but their struggles hadn’t even begun.
When Dorothy and Elizabeth arrived at the house in Ascension Parish with Rosie and Lena, they discovered the tracks of the men that had pursued them. Elizabeth followed the tracks several miles north, up the river, and made the determination that the pursuit had given up. They thought it was fortunate, if somewhat unexpected, that Louis showed up to take the girls away. After finding the evidence of a pursuing party, the two warriors didn’t feel that the house would be safe in the long run. After Rosie and Lena were gone, Dorothy and Elizabeth stayed the rest of the night, but then saddled up to ride back to Baton Rouge the next morning.
They knew that they faced a certain amount of danger attempting to sneak into the Quad through enemy territory, but they considered it their duty to rejoin the soldiers they left behind. Neither one of them had wanted to accompany Louis’ party, but the two warrior women respected their commander’s orders. They actually felt relieved to be released from their obligations to Lena and Rosie. They felt it high time they rejoined the fight against evil in the way that they knew best.
The two women rode north by northwest through the forests and wetlands of South Louisiana, avoiding the outlying settlements and suburbs of East Baton Rouge Parish. They made it all the way into the city without encountering any trouble, mostly because they didn’t use the roads and they traveled very slowly. Late the second night they dismounted in a small stretch of trees not far from the Quad.
Dorothy intended to slink forward through the underbrush to get a closer look at their opposition, and determine their best course of action. The woman knew that there were several ways into the fortress, but until she could see the enemy’s positions she wouldn’t know how to get inside. She and Elizabeth conferred before Dorothy set off.
“If something happens to me, then I want you to ride hard for the south gate of the fortress. I will create enough of a diversion for you to make it there,” Dorothy promised her partner.
“If you think something is going to happen to you, then this is a bad plan. I don’t want to get into the fortress without you. Maybe we should reconsider this,” worried Elizabeth. “I don’t want anything to happen to you.”
“Too late,” spoke a voice in the darkness.
The small hollow where the women were hiding lit up with the power of sorcery. The forces of evil had been alerted to their presence, and surrounded the two women with stealth supplemented by dark magic. Dorothy tried to draw her gun, but darts suddenly sprouted all over her body. She toppled to the ground with her hand on her gun, but her eyes were still open and comprehending. Elizabeth tried to charge forward, but the same thing happened to her. She fell to the ground in mid-step. Their worst nightmares had come to pass. The two women had been captured.
A huge white man wearing desert camouflage walked forward between the ranks of the soldiers with blowguns. The man’s face was painted black, but they could see his eyes by the magical light. He appeared pleased with the situation. He looked from Dorothy to Elizabeth, and smiled.
“The darts were covered with a rare tropical agent that induces temporary paralysis. I only use it on special occasions. My name is Plague, and you two are going to tell me everything I want to know,” the giant man assured the two helpless women. “I know that until recently you traveled with a man named Jesus Mendoza. I’m anxious to find out about his whereabouts. The gods jerked me around, and I’m not very happy about it. You will soon discover how very unhappy I am.”
Plague turned and walked away. The soldiers fell upon the women with ropes and chains. The soldiers brought forward two poles, and in moments Dorothy and Elizabeth were lifted from the ground. They hung down from the poles, hog-tied for transport. The soldiers carried them away, following in Plague’s footsteps.
“Take the ugly one to the sorcerers. Bring the pretty one to my tent. I need to take my frustrations out on someone I can stand to look at,” Plague called over his shoulder.
Once they got to Plague’s tent, the warlord directed the soldiers to release Elizabeth from the pole, and chain her to one of the sturdy posts supporting the tent. The soldiers did as they were told. Elizabeth put up no struggle whatsoever. The toxin in her bloodstream prevented her from moving, and in moments she was secured to the post by her wrists and ankles.
Plague walked over to Elizabeth and ran his fingers through her hair. She wanted to say something, but she couldn’t form the words and only a feeble sound escaped. Plague took a long knife from a sheath on his belt and cut all of her clothes off of her, careful not to cut her. When she was completely nude he moved in close to her and spoke in her ear.
“When you can speak again,” Plague whispered, “I’ll be back. Torturing you won’t give me any pleasure, but it has to be done. I need to know you’re telling me the truth. By the time I’m done you’ll give yourself to me willingly, body and soul.”
Plague left Elizabeth that way for a long time, paralyzed and hanging from a post in his tent by her wrists. When he returned the agent had worn off, and he carried through on his promise. Within a few hours she told him everything he wanted to know, and a lot of things he didn’t care about. She finally promised to belong to him for all eternity. That was when Plague stopped. Elizabeth hung before him broken and babbling.
The warlord called for a guard from outside the tent, and one of them scurried into his presence. Plague waved at the naked woman, “I want her bathed and healed. Then dress her in something pretty, put a collar on her and bring her back to me. I’ve decided to keep her.”
The soldier released Elizabeth from the post, and she collapsed to the floor, The chains had been holding her up. The soldier picked her up and threw her over his shoulder. He staggered under her weight. Elizabeth was a healthy woman.
Before they were gone Plague warned, “Be careful of her when she’s healed. She’s a lot more dangerous than she looks right now. And don’t lay a finger on her, soldier. She’s mine now.”
Plague went out to speak to one of his lieutenants. All of the reports he got about Louis and Jesus said that they had left the action, causing much anger among the gods and the devils. Every sign pointed to divine intervention, a factor Plague believed he experienced firsthand. He felt fortunate to have captured the two Amazons. He was certain Elizabeth told him the truth about the offshore drilling rig. Plague vowed that his time he would find the assassin and the soft newcomer, and no god or devil was going to stop him. It had been a productive night. He got the information he wanted, when all his sorcerers couldn’t tell him anything. He also got an attractive, spirited woman to play with for a while. Life was good.