Mercury Shrugs (4 page)

Chapter Five

Lucifer’s cell; July 10, 2015

“God damn it, Pazusu!” shrieked Gurien, and launched himself over the stack of rulebooks toward Pazusu.

Azrael took a step as if intending to break up the struggle, but Lucifer shook his head. Azrael shrugged and stepped back to continue his conversation with Lucifer. “You’re sure the authorities don’t know the location of the lab?” asked Azrael.

“If they did,” Lucifer replied, “they’d have built a new portal generator themselves by now. You know how desperate they are to reestablish contact with the Mundane Plane and the other planes.”

“Maybe they lack the expertise.”

“Possibly,” said Lucifer. “But if that’s the case, they’d have still less interest in locating the lab. Either way, it’s unlikely they’ve found it—and even if they have, it’s doubtful they will look for us there.”

“But you don’t have the expertise to build a portal generator either,” said Azrael.

“No,” said Lucifer. “But
he
does.” He nodded toward Drekavac, who was trying to extricate one of the rulebooks from underneath Pazusu, who was being pummeled in the face by Gurien. Drekavac managed to get the book free but accidentally elbowed another demon in the process, who retaliated by punching Drekavac in the jaw. Drekavac, dazed, swung back, but missed his attacker entirely and stumbled into another demon. Soon the entire group was embroiled in the fracas, each demon punching and kicking whoever happened to be nearby. The quarrel between Pazusu and Gurien had merely been the match on the pile of oil-soaked rags; demons—particularly those who had been locked in a cage for several years—didn’t really need an excuse to engage in violence.

“Who?” asked Azrael, raising his voice slightly to be heard over the fracas. “The new guy?”

“Indeed,” said Lucifer. “Believe it or not, our longsuffering Dungeon Master over there is something of a savant with interplanar physics.” He motioned toward Drekavac. “I pulled some strings to get him thrown in here with us. If anyone can figure out how to get off this plane, it’s him.” Drekavac had only been in the cage with them for the past week; an archivist at the Heavenly library, he had been shocked to find himself dragged away from his job without warning, arrested on trumped-up charges and thrown into a cage with Lucifer and his minions. He’d been doing his best to fit in since then, but it was clear he didn’t belong with this gang of miscreants.

“I thought he was a librarian,” said Azrael doubtfully.

“He was,” replied Lucifer. “But five hundred years ago or so, he worked for Balderhaz. They had a falling out, and since then he’s worked at the Heavenly Library. At one point, though, he was intimately familiar with the workings of the planeport.”

“And you think he has the expertise to build another planeport?”

“Not an entire planeport,” said Lucifer. “Just a single portal generator, with a single destination.”

“I assume you have another plane picked out,” said Azrael. “Where do you plan to go?”

Pazusu had managed to turn the tables on Gurien, having gotten him into a headlock. The other demons continued to brawl around them. Malcazar was now only about twenty paces away, but the acoustics in the cavern were such that even though Lucifer and Azrael were speaking at normal volume, the guard would have a hard time making anything out over the bickering going on behind them.

“Not where,” replied Lucifer with a grin. “
When
.”

Azrael snorted. “Time travel? It’s a myth, Lucifer.”

“Not true,” said Lucifer. “Balderhaz figured it out. The authorities have suppressed most of the evidence, but I’ve managed to determine, in theory, how it could be done.”

“You’re a liar, Lucifer. If you knew the secret of time travel, you wouldn’t be stuck in here with us.”

Malcazar, flaming sword in hand, stopped in his tracks and turned to study escalating melee, frowning as if he were uncertain whether to intervene. Lucifer and Azrael continued to take no notice of him.

“I said I know in theory how it could be done, not that I can do it at will,” Lucifer said, a hint of irritation in his voice. He was doing his best to be tactful with Azrael, but he was more accustomed to intimidating his underlings into submission than having to cajole them into action. He calmed himself and went on, “I’ve always suspected it was possible, but I never had time to look into it before.”

“So that’s what you’ve been doing?” said Azrael. “Researching time travel?” Lucifer had spent much of the past two years poring over ancient tomes from the Heavenly library that he’d bribed guards to deliver to the prison. In fact, it was—ironically—these deliveries that had gotten Drekavac tossed into the pokey with them. Lucifer had arranged for one of the guards to get caught with a sensitive book on the metaphysics of interplanar energy channels, and the guard had rolled over on Drekavac, blaming him for not following proper security procedures. Drekavac was thrown into prison and the guard was replaced by Malcazar—evidently another element in Lucifer’s escape plan.

“In part,” answered Lucifer. “The key is the—”

He broke off as a Gurien stumbled into him, having been shoved by Amalech. Without taking his eyes off Azrael, Lucifer gripped Gurien’s throat with his right hand and hurled him back into the fray. The brawl showed no signs of abating; in fact, it seemed to be intensifying. These free-for-alls happened once every few days, and they tended to go on until Azrael put a stop to them. Inside the Balderhaz Cube’s sphere of influence, the demons were incapable of performing miracles, but they remained demons—which is to say, short-tempered, thin-skinned, and capable of absorbing an infinite amount of physical punishment. It wasn’t uncommon for them to literally tear each other’s limbs off over some minor slight. All their wounds would heal eventually, but in the meantime the scene could get pretty gruesome.

Azrael sighed, observing the escalating violence. “I guess I’d better step in.” Azrael was by far the largest and most intimidating of the demons; he tended to dominate the other demons through sheer force of will.

“No,” said Lucifer, holding up his hand as Azrael took a step toward the fracas. “This is our chance.”

As the melee went on and neither Lucifer nor Azrael showed any signs of stepping in, Malcazar grew impatient. “Get your lackeys under control, Lucifer,” growled the guard, holding his flaming sword in front of him.

Lucifer waved his hand dismissively toward Malcazar without making eye contact. “Nothing I can do,” he said. “They get rambunctious sometimes.”

“Then have your enforcer do it,” Malcazar said, pointing the sword at Azrael.

Azrael glanced at Lucifer, who gave him a slight nod. Azrael sighed. “It’s not my job to keep your inmates quiet, Malcazar,” he said. “Why don’t you try doing your job?”

“My
job
?” Malcazar snapped. “Do you know what I was doing before I got summoned down into this rat hole to babysit you goofballs? I was the head of security for Cravutius’s security detail. Cushiest job in Heaven. Then one day they tell me I’ve got to spend the next hundred years in this mother-loving cave.”

“Such language, Malcazar!” Lucifer jeered, turning to face the angel. “Careful, boy. If you fall any farther out of the good graces of the Heavenly authorities, they might throw you in here with us.”

“You wish,” said Malcazar. “In fact, I’ve already filed an appeal to get reassigned. I never should have been stuck down here in the first place. Some kind of bureaucratic snafu. I’ll be out of here in a week.”

“Not if you can’t keep control of your prisoners,” said Lucifer. “Have you considered that this is a test? Your bosses have this cave under surveillance, you know. They’re watching you right now, wondering when you’re going to get off your ass and do something about this brawl.”

Malcazar’s eyes went to the ceiling, apparently looking for hidden cameras. Azrael shot a questioning glance at Lucifer, who shook his head. Malcazar returned his attention to the cage. “You in there!” Malcazar he yelled. “Stop that!”

The demons, oblivious to the command, continued kicking, pummeling, scratching, and choking each other. Pazusu still had Gurien in a headlock and was slowly squeezing him unconscious.

“Good show,” said Lucifer. “You’ve practically got them eating out of your hand.”

“I don’t need your commentary, Lucifer,” Malcazar snapped.

“Nobody
needs
my commentary,” said Lucifer. “But you have to admit, it adds color. Speaking of which, have you ever seen anyone’s face turn that shade of purple?”

As they watched, Gurien’s body went limp, but Pazusu continued to squeeze.

“I heard the Senate was going to summon Gurien for questioning today,” Lucifer remarked to Azrael. “Of course, that’s going to be difficult if his—” As he spoke, Gurien’s head popped off his body, his neck torn in half by Pazusu’s brawny arm. Pazusu gripped the head by the base of the skull and jaw, tore it completely free and hurled it against the bars of the cage. It bounced off the bars with a clang, then rolled into the center of the fracas. Another demon picked it up and hurled it at one of his fellows. Meanwhile, blood continued to spray from Gurien’s severed neck arteries. Pazusu gave a triumphant screech. “Try backstabbing me now, bitch!” he howled, then turned and attacked another opponent seemingly at random.

“Feel free to intervene anytime you think things have gotten out of hand,” Lucifer said to Malcazar.

“Tell them to stop!” barked Malcazar. “They listen to you!”

“Tell them to stop or what?” said Lucifer.

“Or,” Malcazar said, pointing the fiery sword at Lucifer, “Or you know what!”

“A tough guy, huh?” said Azrael, glancing at Lucifer with a
this-had-better-work
look on his face. “Why don’t you try that sword on me?”

“Don’t think I won’t!” snapped Malcazar.

“You wouldn’t dare,” said Lucifer. “You don’t have the balls to stab Azrael in the abdomen with that sword. Not even through the bars of this cage. I heard about you in the Battle of Eden II. You hid behind a bush for most of the battle and then came out when the fighting was over. Accidentally stumbled over the enemy general’s corpse. You almost fainted because you can’t stand the sight of blood. Maybe your bosses heard the same story.”

“That’s a lie!” Malcazar cried. “I slew a hundred men in that battle! They gave me this sword as a reward!”

“I wouldn’t get to attached to it,” said Azrael. “Anyone who won’t even stab an unarmed man in a cage doesn’t deserve a fancy sword like that.”

“Oh yeah?” said Malcazar, eyeing Azrael. “Watch this!” He took a step forward, drawing his sword back along his side in preparation to attack.

Azrael winced as he saw the blade coming, but rather than back away, he gripped the bars and gritted his teeth. Malcazar thrust the sword through the bars, right below Azrael’s solar plexus. The point emerged from Azrael’s lower back and he screamed. The sound was remarkable, somewhere in between the roar of a lion and the bellow of a foghorn. The combatants behind them suddenly stopped what they were doing and turned to see what had made that sound. Azrael’s face was contorted, and he was now staring wordlessly at Malcazar, who seemed nearly as shocked as he was.

Only Lucifer retained full control of his faculties. He lunged forward, reaching through the cage to get his hand on the pommel of the sword. To his surprise, Malcazar’s hands went limp, and Lucifer had no trouble getting the hilt away from him. Glancing at Malcazar, Lucifer saw that the angel’s face had gone white as chalk. Could it be? Were the rumors true? Apparently the brave Malcazar really
did
get queasy at the sight of blood. This was going even better than expected!

Malcazar reeled, looking as if he was about to pass out. Meanwhile, Azrael, with the sword still protruding from his midsection, stumbled backwards toward the other demons, who dumbly retreated. It was one thing to see Gurien’s head ripped clear of his body; it was another to witness the invincible Azrael impaled by a flaming sword.

“I’ve got you, Azrael,” said Lucifer comfortingly, taking a step toward the big demon. But if Azrael was hoping for gentle treatment, he was disappointed. Lucifer planted his right heel on Azrael’s hip, gripped the sword hilt with both hands, and gave it a jerk.

Azrael screamed again. The sword, its flame sizzling with blood and Azrael’s intestinal juices, came free, and Azrael’s eyes rolled up into his head. The giant demon fell like a tree to the floor of the cage. The other demons continued to stare, uncertain what to make of the situation. On the other side of the cage, Malcazar was sitting on the cave floor with his head between his knees, apparently trying not to lose consciousness.

Lucifer held up the sword triumphantly. “Witness the fruits of months of planning!” he cried. “I present to you the Sword of Eden!” He held the sword in the air momentarily for effect.

“I don’t get it, boss,” said Pazusu after a moment. “What good is a sword going to do in here?”

Lucifer grinned at them, lowering his arm. He turned the sword upside down and stuck his thumbnail under the gem on the pommel. With some effort, he wrenched it free, and then tossed the sword aside. It clattered to the ground next to Azrael, who lay moaning and clutching the wound in his belly.