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Part One: Antarctica
Lepus didn't like what he saw. Not only has the mission been blown to all hells, not only was he surrounded by four freaky former parts of Lee Burroughs, not only was he worried about Red Thomas (phrases like "He had far outstripped us in power" always tended to put him on edge) - as if that, and the fact that he had to suffer the presence of Vatican pansies, wasn't enough, he now had to acknowledge that the raving lunatic calling himself Hardigan was, probably, right.
Hardigan was speaking rapidly. "This is the Liber Aegiptum de finis Terrae", he wheezed, wielding the manuscript, "as most of you probably don't know, its name means "The Egyptian Book about the End of the Earth" - here, Lepus noted, the Churchmen nodded; they have obviously been wide awake through their Latin lessons - "which was written, in all likelihood, in 4th century Alexandria; in fact, we have a reason to believe that this is the book that incited the riot which burned down the Great-"
"That is all fine and good, Professor, but just what does the damned book say?" Hardigan glared at Lepus. "Why, it describes the Apocalypse, of course. The book posits the existence of a southern continent, under which the gods have imprisoned the Son of Seth. This is obviously where we are, and..." Seeing the impatience imprinted on the old assassin's face, he looked for help from Bobbi and Harvey, and got none; he hurried on. "Now, according to the prophecy, Atlantis shall rise, and three gods - Nyarlathotep, the Voice of Chaos, He'dal, the great sea-demon of anarchy and destruction, and the Child of Set shall rise; and the skies will turn yellow, the paupers shall rise against the citizens, and..."
Again, he was interrupted. "Did you say "the paupers shall rise?" asked Bobbi. "Yes, and there's more..." Lepus, Bobbi and Harvey looked at one another. "It can easily be checked", and turning to the clergy, "You guys have a functioning radio?"
"Buzzard to base. Do you read me? Buzzard to base..."
Static. Then: "Base to Buzzard, we read you. Where the
hell are you, sir? The director is mad..."
"Fuck the director, kid. I need the following
data confirmed..."
And, after a few minutes:
"I'll be damned."
Part two: Somewhere over the South Pacific
Captain David Kelly wasn't worried. Just another routine flight - there are still some things the satellites couldn't do - and nobody told him this flight was anything but routine. The huge, invisible Black Bird glided at 60,000 feet, and was fast approaching the specified area. The only thing which troubled him was the skies; they were a strange shade of yellow - even above the clouds. But he kept it out of his mind; he had a job to do.
There it was.
"Eagle Three to base, do you read?"
"We read you loud and clear, Eagle Three".
"I'm over the target area now, and, yes,
it's here. Just where Intel said it would be. It's rather smaller than specified,
though."
"Give it another sweep, Eagle Three".
"Roger. Swooping down."
Hours later, when the frenzied phone calls ended, the alert has been sounded, and the report was being drafted, the Duty Officer recalled that last radio message, and thought, guiltily, that last words shouldn't be so... mundane.
New York
Police were dispatched in a hurry to the Apocalypse Club, where stampeding, screaming civilians spoke of a "headless monstrosity". The cops found no such monster, but they did find several bodies. All of which had weird sucking marks on them. Many of the officers would suffer nightmares. The weather didn't help, either.
One of the bodies was exceptionally well-dressed.
Part three: Antarctica
It's been 33 years since I joined the Corps. Seen more than my share of death; caused most of it myself. Faced creatures from beyond this world. Killed women and children and parents - following orders, and sometimes, initiative. Dined in the best restaurants, ate the worst shit the army could dish. Been all around the world. I'm no longer the Hillbilly that went to boot camp back in 1965; Alabama is in the past. Soon, any day now, I will be a director in the world's finest secret agency. And still...
And still, I'm afraid of God, of Hell. And now it looks like Armageddon is just around the corner. That piece of Alabama is with me forever.
"Look here, Lepus, I can't enter the Oval Office and
ask the President for a nuclear strike without giving him some pretty good reasons -
which you are not giving me."
"Then just nuke the place, Justin. Then deny it. Blame the frogs or something."
"I am beginning to think you are losing your faculties, Lepus. Why don't you just
take a vacation for a few weeks, and then-"
Slam.
He's a strict one, God. And don't tell me he doesn't exist. Of course he does. We all deny it, we who work in this line of business, but even as we lie to our friends, we also know we lie to ourselves. He exists. Hell exists. Armaggadon is coming.
Just like they said in Sunday School. And here I am, with hundreds of souls laying heavy charge against me. Now what?
"Mister Lepus?" Huh? It's the shemale. Why is she
looking at me like that? How long have I been off? "What seems to be the problem?"
She takes a step back. "It's Red Thomas, Lepus".
"Well, what about him?"
Can't you see I'm busy thinking here?
"I think he's coming."
She's making sense. That red light, which brought us the Amazing Professor Fruitbat and his Wonderful Armageddon Show, is glowing again. And Red Thomas is not someone I'm sure I want to meet right now.
Then again, he doesn't seem to care.
Red Thomas appeared in the middle of the room. He was holding an ax. A bloody ax, with bits of grey matter attached to it, complimenting the general crimson hue of both the ax, his clothes, and his skin.
"Hello, Ladies and Gentlemen!" he said, grinning. A shrill female scream pierced the air; then everybody looked at Cordelia lying, motionless, on the floor. "No, no, no - that's not what I want at all! I mean no harm to you, guys, and neither to you, Bobbi and Mr. Lizard there - I meant Harvey, of course!." Another manic grin.
"There's just this matter of this trap around here, keeping some poor god captive. And we can't have that, can we? No, no! We can't! We were once prisoners ourselves! He must be free! The deal must be kept!"
A captive god? He can't mean...
One of the priests tried to move, to bring his gun to bear on Thomas. He was not nearly fast enough - Thomas' ax was in his skull before he pulled the trigger. Then pandemonium erupted: Mycroft called for help, Edgar screamed, Bobbi and Harvey went for their guns - and Thomas was shrieking, as he drove his ax again, and again, and again, with manic, quirky movements, with spittle coming out of his mouth, into the heads of his enemies. One of them tried to pull the pin of a grenade - but Thomas was quicker, and took off his arm.
Is this my chance?
I don't see any other chance coming along, Adolph boy. Kill one for God, eh?
after all, that's the only thing you're good at.
As Lepus began his last attack, as he glided over to the fallen priest, grabbed the grenade, pulled the pin, and hugged Thomas, snatches of an old song went through his head:
One of these days, and it won't be long,
I'll rejoin them in a song,
I'm gonna join the family circle at the Throne;
Oh, the circle won't be broken...
Silence.
