Sword of the Gods: Agents of Ki (Sword of the Gods Saga) (76 page)

Eligor's eyebrows rose in surprise.

"He did, Sir?"

Zepar gave him a self-satisfied smirk.

"Who said that?" Eligor growled. "Lerajie is seven kinds of stupid, but he's no traitor!"

Zepar stepped backwards, his smirk disappearing.

"That's none of your business,
crewman,
" Zepar said. "All you need to know is that Lerajie has become a problem, one which Lucifer wishes to have disappear."

"I don't believe you," Eligor said. "Lerajie helped me spring Lucifer's ass out of his father's prison while
you
gallivanted off to the uncharted territories, your tailfeathers jammed between your legs because Hashem bagged your meal ticket. He doesn't trust you anymore, which is why you have
me
acting as your errand boy!"

"Nevertheless," Zepar said, "Lucifer wants Lerajie gone. That's an order, crewman. If you can't obey that order, then it will be
you
we send out of the airlock. Not just Lerajie."

Eligor shook the needle-box in Zepar's face.

"If Lucifer wants him gone," Eligor snarled, "then he's gone. But I want to hear it from Lucifer's own lips. Otherwise, I'll let
you
try to shoot up the Prince Party Prom Queen up with whatever the fuck you've been loading into this syringe!"

Eligor noted the way Zepar turned a few shades paler. Good! He was
through
being Zepar's bitch! He stormed out of there, barely giving a backwards glance at the weird robot Zepar was building. He shoved past several crewmen, not even acknowledging them as they dove out of his way, recognizing how unusual it was for him to show any emotion other than
'I don't give a fuck.'

Furcas and Pruflas stood like bookends on either side of Lucifer's door. Eligor suspected they were there to keep Lucifer
inside
so he didn't roam around the ship and tip off the crew he was bonkers, not to keep potential assassins
out.
They eyed him with cold-eyed disdain as he slipped past them, into the familiar stench of stale liquor, expensive men's cologne, and an underlying scent of sickness that not even the air recycling system could mask any longer.

His eyes adjusted to the darkness. They all had a tacit agreement that whenever Lucifer wasn't needed they'd let him sleep it off, only shooting him up when it was necessary for him to perform some duty. Eligor walked over to the bar and turned on the furthest light from Lucifer's bed, and then sat down in a chair to wait for him to gradually wake up. As he did, his mind raced. Lerajie. Ordered dead? He didn't believe that Lucifer had ordered such a thing. This was Zepar's doing. Him, and whatever crewman had ratted Lerajie out, seeking favor from the puppetmaster.

Eligor hit the arm of the chair.
Stupid, dumb-fuck sonofabitch!
Why the hell had the bleeding heart idiot gone and blabbed his do-goodness to every crewman in the ship?

His mind raced, trying to think of what he could say to get Lucifer to rescind the order. He'd appeal to the
good twin
. That's what he'd do. He pulled out the syringe and held it up to the bar-light, examining the putrid green liquid which turned Lucifer into a cold-blooded bastard.

Lucifer groaned. A large, white wing rustled as he stretched, and then flapped over as he rolled over and tried to block the light with his wing.

"Eligor? Is that you?"

"Yes, Sir," Eligor said. "It's me."

"My head hurts."

"I know, Sir."

"Can you pour me a drink?"

"I will, Sir," Eligor said. "Right after I give you your medicine."

He held up the syringe and read the numbers which went from 10 to 100 cc's. It was stuck on 70 cc's. What if he only gave him 65 cc's? Would that make a difference? If Lucifer started hallucinating again, tomorrow he'd just shoot him up with the full dosage?

He squeezed the air bubbles out, and then he squeezed a little more, aiming the tiny squirt of green liquid away from anyplace the stain would be obvious against Lucifer's luxurious, burgundy décor. There. 65cc's.

"Why can't you just give me a hair of the Leonid
?
" Lucifer grumbled. He uncovered his eyes and stared at Lerajie from the cover of his silk sheets. "I don't like my medicine. It makes me feel not like … me."

'My thoughts exactly,'
Eligor thought to himself.

"As you wish, Sir," Eligor said aloud.

He usually didn't cave in to Lucifer's calls for alcohol, but he needed to convince the man that Lerajie wasn't a threat, especially if, as he suspected, Zepar was ordering his friend's execution to send a message to anyone who might be inclined to follow Lerajie's lead.

His friend…

Oh, alright. Fuck. Yes. He'd admit it. Lerajie was his friend!

He poured Lucifer a drink, not the potent green Mantoid liquid which he preferred, but the watered-down shit he'd been using to wean the man off his alcoholism. He strode over to the swimming-pool sized bed and stood, waiting for Lucifer to shove himself upwards. No matter
how
drunk Lucifer got, the man had a grace about him which reminded Eligor of his mother.

Asherah…

Gods, the woman had been beautiful. Raven hair. Black-brown wings. Peaches-and-cream skin. And eyes so blue they were the color of the Haven sky. Her son looked just like her, even if his hair and wings were white, his eyes silver like his sire's, his features squared off ever since he'd passed his adolescence. Maybe that was why he'd stuck by the bastard's side long after any other man would have cut and run?

She had kissed his forehead…

'You're a good man, Eligor,' she had said. 'Lucifer's going to -need- someone like you around. Someone who sees things like they are, not as they wish that they would be.'

He pushed the image out of his mind. The next day, Hashem had breached the defenses to Tyre and blown the planet all to hell, inadvertently killing Asherah along with her husband.

Lucifer grabbed the glass and downed it in a single gulp.

"Is something bothering you, Eligor?"

"Do you trust me, Sir?"

Lucifer stared down into the amber liquid, swirling it around as he contemplated Eligor's question.

"I don't trust anybody, really," Lucifer said softly. "Any time I do, they always find some way to screw me over."

He handed Eligor the glass. Eligor refilled it.

"No more than two, Sir," Eligor said. "We don't know what reaction it might have with your medication."

Lucifer sighed.

"You're right, you know," he said. His eyes met Eligor's, red-rimmed from lack of sleep even though Eligor knew full well the man had lain here for more than sixteen hours. "Zepar always capped it off, and
then
tried to get me to take my medicine. But you? You always give it to me straight."

"It's your choice, Sir," Eligor said softly. "If you tell me you don't want it anymore, I'm not going to force it on you."

Lucifer pinched the bridge of his nose. Already the migraine had started to press in on him, as if the evil twin was crushing his skull, screaming that he wanted to be let inside.

"It's not like I have a choice," Lucifer said. "If I
don't
take my medicine, it hurts so bad I can't even get out of bed."

"Maybe you should get your head examined, Sir?" Eligor said. "After you've proven that integrating humans is the best way to save our species? Won't nobody talk badly about you then, Sir."

"That would be nice," Lucifer sighed.

He turned and lowered his wing so that Eligor would have access to the place in the back of his neck which was optimal to inject the medicine into the base of his spine. Tiny track marks dotted the tissue, evidence that Lucifer had been drugged for a very long time. He waited; waited for Eligor to put him to sleep so that his evil twin personality could come to the forefront.

"Sir?" Eligor asked.

"What, Eligor."

"It wasn't just
me
who sprung you from your father's prison. It was Lerajie, too. If he hadn't helped me, you'd still be rotting in jail."

Lucifer twisted around so he could see him.

"What's bothering you, Eligor?"

"Zepar said you wanted me to shove Lerajie out an airlock."

Lucifer's eyebrows raised in surprise.

"What? Why would I order that? The man saved my tailfeathers!"

"Ever since he heard Abaddon's wife speak, Lerajie has gotten it into his head that some of the humans are sentient."

Lucifer's gaze drifted over to some artifacts he'd brought up from Earth. A couple of pottery vases. A spear. And a long, fringed shawl, confiscated from the black-eyed man who'd tried to kill him.

"I suspect some
are
sentient," Lucifer said. "Though I've yet to meet one … and
remember.
"

Eligor knew that wasn't true. Some mornings, when Lucifer was especially disoriented, he'd cry out and ask if the black-eyed man had come to save him.

"Zepar said Lerajie is undermining the morale on this ship."

"That's no reason to
kill
him," Lucifer said. He waved his hand dismissively. "Zepar's just pulling your chain. If Lerajie is out of line, lock him in the brig and we'll figure out what to do with him once we get back to Alliance airspace. Alliance citizens don't execute people without a trial."

'You have no idea…'
Eligor thought to himself.

"Thank you, Sir," Eligor said aloud.

With a soft groan of pain, Lucifer gripped his forehead. The evil twin awaited entrance and wouldn't let Eligor deny his medicine. Lucifer lowered his wing once again, exposing his neck like a fowl which had just placed its neck down onto a chopping block. Eligor plunged the needle into Lucifer's flesh and pushed down on the syringe.

He stepped back and waited for the evil twin to make his entrance. Lucifer appeared disoriented for a moment, and then his eyes grew hard. Eligor filled his head with nonsense-thoughts, careful to hide what he and the good twin had just discussed, understanding the evil twin was a very different version of his boss than the one which had just granted Lerajie back his life.

Lucifer gave his body his morning 'circle check,' kind of like Eligor gave the shuttle each morning before he flew it, and then stretched, ready to begin his day. His cold gaze settled on Eligor.

"Good morning, Eligor. What were we just discussing?"

"Your recommendations on how to deal with Lerajie, Sir," Eligor said, forcing his expression to remain blank. "You were just telling me it wouldn't cast you in a favorable light to shoot him out the airlock."

"I see," Lucifer said. "And what did I suggest as a solution?"

"You suggested I take the man under my wing," Eligor said. "And impress upon him the necessity of his discretion in this matter. Even if it means locking him in the brig."

Lucifer paced over to him like a Leonid stalking prey. Eligor tucked his wings tightly against his back and stood stiffly as Lucifer circled around him. He knew the intrusion was coming, so he filled his mind with what he suspected the evil twin wanted to hear.

'Take the man into the back storage room and beat him within an inch of his life until the idiot learns to keep his mouth shut…'

It wasn't a lie. It was a truth the evil twin wanted to see. Lucifer's lips curved up in a malicious grin as he reached into Eligor's mind and savored the images Eligor projected of beating the pink-winged Angelic until he was bloody, screaming at him the entire time,
'what the fuck do you think you're doing, you idiot!'

"So you want me to intervene and save your friend?" Lucifer whispered almost in his ear.

"He's not my friend, Sir," Eligor said. "Not … exactly."

"That's good," Lucifer said. "Because men in our position have little use for friends."

Eligor felt him probe his mind, searching to see if his intent to spare Lerajie was anything more. Now that he knew Lucifer was equally attracted to men, he suspected that was what he searched for in his mind, but sorry, dude. He, Eligor, liked his fuck-friends to contain a cunt.

Lucifer glanced over at the Earth-artifacts decorating his wall. His silver gaze settled upon the angry young chieftain's shawl, the same one the good twin found fascinating, the one the evil twin had procured in exchange for providing the man with a brand-new knife and a full contingent of Angelic clothing.

"A pet, then, perhaps?" Lucifer smirked. "Everybody likes to have a pet. Someone you can mold into an image of yourself?"

"A pet, Sir?" Eligor said. "Yes, Sir. I guess that
is
kind of the way I've always felt about him. A sidekick, Sir."

Lucifer strode over to the shelf full of artifacts and pulled down a second one, a small, white shawl, beautifully decorated. He sniffed it, and then put it down, his eerie silver eyes picking up the amber reflection from the bottles of liquor in the bar so it appeared his eyes were filled with fire.