Kill City Blues: A Sandman Slim Novel (36 page)

“Close down Hell.”

Samael crushes his beer can and belches.

“Excuse me.”

The prick knew where I was going all along. He wanted me to say it first.

“I’m telling you as an ex-Lucifer, as someone who’s seen how miserable not just the damned are but the angels guarding them. Turn off the lights. Roll up the carpets and lock the doors. Whatever point you were making by tossing the rebels there has been made. Hell hasn’t redeemed the fallen angels. It’s created the biggest suicide cult in history. That’s why the generals agreed to Mason Faim’s idiot plan to storm Heaven. They knew it would fail and that Heaven’s armies would destroy them. Suicide by cop.”

Mr. Muninn picks up his coffee. Sips it and makes a face. It’s gone cold. He moves his hand over it and it’s hot again. He takes another sip.

“Nice trick,” I say.

“Are you going to point out how weak I am now that I’ve split into pieces? Don’t bother. I feel it every day.”

“I met Nefesh yesterday.”

Mr. Muninn nods.

“Yes, he told me all about it. My brother has come to stay with me.”

“And me,” says Samael. “Two fathers in the same house. Can you imagine my joy?”

“What about it, Mr. Muninn? Shut down Hell.”

He shakes his head.

“I’ll admit I’ve thought about it. I don’t know how I’d go about doing it. What to do with the angels that still want to rebel. What to do with the lost souls. Broken as I am, I don’t even know if I have the strength to do it anymore.”

“Now you have Nefesh to help. Maybe the two of you could do it together.”

“It’s a mad idea to consider as reality. Destroying Hell is an abstract notion. A philosophical argument. Nothing more.”

“Not if you don’t want it to be. You can make it real.”

“This is foolishness.”

“You can do it and let the angels have some free will. Don’t drag any of them back to Heaven. Leave Hell’s gates open and let the ones that want to go back with you go and let the angels who want to stay in Hell stay. And find something better to do with all those damned souls. How many of them are like Father Traven, there on technicalities?”

“This is all very romantic and heartfelt, Stark, but I’d like to point out a flaw in your argument,” says Samael. “You’ll notice that I’m not in Heaven anymore. Neither are a lot of angels. Hell is becoming a very crowded place and not just with rebels and lost souls.”

“Angels are fleeing Heaven in droves,” says Mr. Muninn. “Ruach grows less rational by the hour.”

“So you see, while your throw-the-gates-open argument might have some merit, it’s impossible to implement until Ruach is made sane or removed as Heaven’s guardian. And in the end, all of these arguments might be moot.”

“The Angra,” I say.

Samael nods.

“The Angra.”

“The Angra,” says Mr. Muninn.

“You broke some rules when you took the universe from them. You can break one little rule for Father Traven.”

“No,” says Mr. Muninn.

“I guess it’s a Mexican standoff. Unless you’re going to toss me into a lake of fire or something.”

Mr. Muninn makes a face.

“You’d love that. It would fit right into your martyr complex.”

“Then where are we?”

“I have a counteroffer. A compromise.”

“Okay.”

“Eleusis. The place of virtuous pagans. It’s the most civilized place in Hell. Full of intellectuals and philosophers. The best of the old world. I think your Father Traven would fit right in.”

“Yeah,” I say. “I always hated Eleusis too. It seems to me like another bullshit technicality. Why is it their fault that they hadn’t heard about your religion when it was something like nine people believed in back then?”

“The Word was there on earth. All they had to do was follow it.”

“Let’s not start a whole other argument,” Samael says.

“Thank you.”

“My answer to Eleusis is thanks but no. Traven isn’t staying anywhere in Hell.”

“You don’t respect rules at all, do you?”

“Sure I do. When they make sense. But some don’t and some are out-of-date. You keep saying you can’t change the rules. Shit, man. You wrote the rules. You can break them or rewrite them any way you want.”

“It’s a matter of both strength and inclination, and I’m not sure I possess either at the moment. And nobody but that one,” he says, looking at Samael, “has ever pressed me or spoken to me like this before.”

“I’m not trying to bust your balls, Mr. Muninn. You know I like you. You’re a nice guy and you took care of the dead under L.A. for all those years. But you’re wrong on this and you know it. None of us here ever wanted to be Lucifer. You can make sure there are no more Lucifers ever again.”

“This isn’t the time for that discussion,” he says.

“I might have an idea,” Samael says. “A compromise for you both.”

Mr. Muninn says, “I’m listening.”

“Stark, as we’ve both pointed out, Heaven isn’t the place to send anyone anymore, so your rescue of Father Traven, while brave, was ill-timed. And Father won’t permit him going to paradise. So, what do you do with a soul one party won’t let into Hell and the other won’t permit into Heaven?”

“What?” I say.

“Blue Heaven.”

“Limbo, you mean?”

“The pleasantest limbo you’ve ever seen,” says Samael.

Blue Heaven is a place out of time, literally. Its real name translates as “the Dayward.” It’s a part of the universe that broke away from normal time and space in 1582 when Pope Gregory switched from the old Julian calendar to the Christian. Fifteen days were suddenly wiped out of existence. But they never really went away. They exist on their own as the Dayward. Blue Heaven.

“Have you ever been there?” says Samael.

“You know I haven’t. The angel part of me has, but the rest of me can’t remember what it was like. I guess I have a general sense that it was a decent enough place. I don’t even know how to get there.”

“Through the Room, you idiot,” says Samael. “The Door of Drunken Eternity, I believe.”

“How do you know that?”

“When your angel broke loose of you, he talked in his sleep.”

“What, and you used to crouch over him and listen? You pervert.”

“You can take the boy out of the Devil but not the Devil out of the boy,” he says.

We both look at Mr. Muninn. He seems lost in thought.

He says, “If I was to agree to let Father Traven leave, would you give me the Qomrama Om Ya?”

That stumps me. I don’t know what to say at first. I don’t think Nefesh wanted to get near the thing.

“No,” I say. “But I promise I’ll use it against the Angra and fight them until the end.”

“Then the answer is no.”

“Let me throw you another compromise,” I say.

“All right.”

“Let Father Traven go and I’ll come back to Hell and stay. I’ll be Lucifer again.”

“Ha!” says Samael. Mr. Muninn opens his eyes a bit wider. I wish I could read angels the way I can read humans. I never know what these fuckers are thinking. That goes double for God.

“You’d really do that?”

“If I can bring Candy with me, yes.”

Mr. Muninn shakes his head.

“You’re the definition of a troublesome child.”

“What about me?” says Samael.

“You both exasperate me.”

I say, “It’s a gift. Well?”

“What can I say? You weren’t the worst imaginable Lucifer, but you were very close. No, you won’t come back as Hell’s caretaker. But I’m impressed by your offer, though I’m not rewarding you for it. I’m protecting Hell from your whims. Keep Father Traven. Put him in Blue Heaven. And this time, you’ll owe me a favor.”

“Cool.”

I put out my hand. Mr. Muninn shakes it. It’s not a happy shake. It’s not even angry. It’s weary. Being Lucifer will do that to you. He gives me a wicked smile worthy of Samael.

“I hope there are no hard feelings about the Chateau Marmont situation,” he says.

“No. I knew it was coming. I had my hand pretty deep in the cookie jar.”

“That you did, son. That you did. Well, I’m off.”

“Why don’t you stay? We were going to try and eat the last of the Chateau food, but I think we’ve lost our nerve. I figure we’ll send out for something.”

Muninn takes a last swig of coffee.

“And that’s why you won’t be Lucifer anytime soon. You don’t have the most logical work ethic. I’ll be heading back now to take care of business. Samael?”

“I’ll be along in a bit. I have a few of my own issues to talk over with Stark.”

“I’ll see you at home, then.”

And he’s gone. Vanished. Like a God.

I look at Samael.

“We have issues?”

He shakes his head.

“Of course not. I just needed a break from home sweet home. The palace is overrun with the high and holy.”

“And you’re used to having your own suite.”

He takes a Malediction from a gold cigarette case. Offers me one. I take it.

“You have to admit . . . it’s addicting.”

I nod, accepting a light.

“I’m bored to death down south. I thought you might let me raid your video collection again.”

“Feel free. It’s not like anyone wants to rent anything. Well, a few vampires, but that’s not really a long-term business model.”

He picks up a Max Overdrive bag and starts down the stairs.

“Specialization. Give the people something no one else can give them. That’s the way to stay open.”

“Between streaming video and BitTorrent, I’m not sure there’s anything left.”

Samael shrugs.

“Look harder. Consult with some younger witches. Maybe together you can conjure up a lost film or two.”

“That’s not a bad idea. I’ve always wanted to see a full version of
London After Midnight
.”

“A fine place to start.”

I sit down and smoke. That was all too close. Mr. Muninn might not be as strong as he once was, but he can probably still turn me into mildew on a bathroom shower mat. But I kept my promise to Traven. Maybe I’ll visit Blue Heaven with him. See what the big deal is. It’s not easy to get there if you don’t go through the Room, so everyone there is supposed to be in the high-IQ club. Definitely the place for him. Not so much for me. Still, I haven’t had a vacation in a while. Hell sure doesn’t count. Maybe take Candy there for a weekend just to clear my head so I can stomach dealing with Wells again.

“Knock knock.”

It’s Candy.

“Can I come in?”

“Of course.”

“You know the Devil is stealing all your Italian and Japanese horror movies.”

“Ex-Devil, dear. Let him. He saved me and Father Traven’s grapes tonight.”

“Liam doesn’t have to stay in the Room forever?”

I shake my head.

“Tomorrow I’m taking him to Blue Heaven.”

“Where’s that?”

“I’m not sure. It’s supposed to be nice. You should come with us and see what it’s like.”

“Okay. So that’s it? God stops by to argue and you get everything you want?”

“Hardly. But enough. And now I owe him a favor.”

“He’ll want the Qomrama.”

“Yeah, but he knows he can’t have that. That means it’ll be something a lot harder.”

She puts an arm around me.

“We’ll deal with it when happens.”

“Thanks.”

I get up and drop the cigarette in the dregs of Mr. Muninn’s coffee.

“Can I tell Brigitte about Liam getting out of Hell?”

“Don’t go into details, but yeah. Why not?”

“She’ll know it was you.”

I say, “We should get food delivered to celebrate.”

“Excellent idea. What should we get?”

“You and Kasabian work it out. He has a million delivery menus around here. I have to make a phone call.”

I walk her to the stairs and call down.

“Hey, Samael. Want to stay for dinner?”

“Will there be donuts?” he says.

“No.”

“Then yes.”

Candy heads downstairs and I go back into a bedroom and close the door. I get out my phone and scroll back through the old incoming call numbers until I find the one I’m looking for.

“Hello? Who is this please? I don’t recognize your number.”

It’s a man’s voice. Vaguely familiar. He called me once when he was possessed.

“Talk to me, Merihim.”

“Who? I think you have wrong number.”

“Come on, Merihim. I know you’ve been in this guy’s head before. Come back and talk to me.”

“I’m hanging up now.”

“Talk to me.”

The line goes quiet but the other guy hasn’t hung up.

“Stark. How nice to hear from you. We haven’t talked in a while.”

“I miss your crank calls. Did you lose interest in harassing me?”

“Not at all. There’s just a lot of work to do down here. Busy, busy, busy. What have you been up to?”

“Killing Aelita and Medea Bava.”

“That’s not what I heard. I heard it was the priest who killed Bava.”

“Ah. So you are keeping tabs on things.”

“It’s getting easier. Using the key. Possessing humans. You might have noticed.”

“Yes. That was you possessing Father Traven.”

“Of course.”

“That’s where it all came together for me. You take over Traven. He gives the 8 Ball to Medea. Medea kills Aelita to get her out of the way. That means she can come back to Hell and give the 8 Ball to Deumos. She’s the key to all this. The goddess worshipper who brought the Qomrama to this universe from wherever the Angra are stuck. She wants it to do the final summoning.”

“Look at you, thinking like you haven’t completely pickled your brain yet.”

“And this whole thing comes back to you Hellions’ obsession with suicide. You think if the Angra come back, they’ll destroy all of Creation and put you out of your misery once and for all.”

“Why not? Father won’t do it. Or can’t. Who else are we to turn to?”

“I tried to save you tonight. I almost had him talked into opening Hell and letting you bastards flutter home to Heaven.”

“What’s the phrase? Almost only counts in hoof slippers?”

“Horseshoes. It only counts in horseshoes and hand grenades. You’re right. But if you assholes hold on a little longer . . . Let Mr. Muninn—I mean Lucifer—deal with Ruach, he can reopen Heaven and you won’t have to destroy the entire fucking universe.”