House Infernal by Edward Lee (33 page)

"Looks like somebody did the job on it."

"Exactly. A Human Being gained entry to Hell and became sanctified through an act of Holy Martyrdom. She
sacrificed her own life in that building, in God's name.
The result was a fissile atomic reaction, almost the same
as a nuclear bomb going off. It turned the entire building
into a pile of junk in two seconds," the priest related.

"Wow. It's 'a bummer that the guy who did it is dead
now.,,

"Not a guy," Alexander muttered.

"What?"

"But that doesn't matter. The suicide sanctified the
most unholy plot of land in Hell. It's purified forever.
Nothing evil can ever exist there."

Ruth considered the situation and chuckled. "I'll bet
that pisses Satan off big-time."

"Yep. Satan's former domicile is now that only sanctified perimeter in Hell. But as you can see, it's not a very
big perimeter." He offered her a cunning smile. "We've
got something up our sleeves, though, that can create another sanctified zone that will just grow and grow."

"How?" she asked.

"In time-I don't want to overwhelm you." His stout
gray legs flexed as he began to approach the virtual mountain of rubble. "Come on, I need you to read something."

Read something? Ruth couldn't imagine what he meant.

As the got closer to the pile, Ruth nearly swooned at
the surge of fresh air. The sun on her face brought a delight to her heart unlike anything she could ever remember. Then-"Flowers!" She rejoiced when she saw the
bright multicolored blooms growing between slabs of concrete the size of cars. Ruth had tears in her eyes by the
time they reached the edge of the debris.

But what had he said? He's got some plan to sanctify more
land in Hell?

"Remember that Spanish friar I mentioned?" he asked.

"Oh, the guy who wrote all that shit on your skin?"

"The calligrapher, yes. Well, he ran out of room so he
had to inscribe some information on my back."

Ruth saw with some alarm that every square inch of
the priest's torso was covered with the scar-tissue scribbling. Even his back.

"Most of the writing is in Enochian or Zraetic, which
you won't recognize," he informed. "Just look for six
weirdo-looking names in a row. They should be glowing."

Ruth spotted it at once, for they were indeed glowing in
a soft whitish blue light, like luminous paint. She slowly
pronounced them:

"Ablissa, Eylla, Azusis, Belith, Gesmary, Tzaella."

"Perfect. You've found them. Now-are the names glowing?"

"Yeah." Ruth ran a finger across the flesh-embossed
script, and found the letters strangely cool. "It looks like
that stuff they use on watches to make the hands glow in
the dark."

"Whitish blue light?" the priest asked, concerned. "Not
dark red?"

"It's whitish," she began, but then her eyes widened. As
she looked at the line of strange glowing names, they"They just changed! Now they're glowing in red."

Alexander nodded, lowered his shirt. "That means the
time is getting closer. The Angels just lost their purity."

"Angels?" Ruth asked.

"Those names are the names of six very special Angels,"
the priest began, and led Ruth away from the glorious
opening in the sky. "T'hey're called Caliginauts. They're
Holy warriors that infiltrate Hell and battle Lucifer's operations. That's their mission, to sneak into the Mephistopolis and ..." He seemed to struggle for the right words.

"Fuck shit up?" Ruth offered.

Alexander frowned, as always. "Yeah, Ruth. These little
skirmishes between Heaven and Hell have been going on
for thousands of years." The desolate road darkened the
farther they strayed from the mountain of rubble. "But
these particular Angels are prisoners now."

"You mean they're in jail?"

"They're in a place worse than jail. They're in the
Lower Chancel of the Fortress Boniface. I've already told
you a little about him. A long time ago he captured these
Angels, and he's been Unanointing them ever since.
That's the reason we're here, and that's the reason their
names on my back just changed from light to dark. It
means their Unanointment Reversion is taking root. Originally they were Blessed and Holy, but after so much debasement they've lost their state of Sanctity."

"What's all that jive mean?" Ruth asked.

"It means we're very close to the time when the Involution will be charged."

"And what does that jive mean?"

"It's numbers and geometry, Ruth. In the Heaven the
perfect number is seven but in Hell the perfect number is
one less-six. The geometric equivalent to the number six is
an angleless curved plane called the Involution. Think of
it as Lucifer's lucky shape. Think of it as a magic shape."

When a Griffin flew by, a gust of wind mussed Ruth's
hair. "This shit's too confusing, man. What's a shape have
to do with Angels?"

"Because this shape-the Involution-is a Power Dolmen, and Lucifer's Warlocks have discovered various
ways to harness that power. The Involution can be
charged, like a battery, but instead of electricity it runs on
the Deathforce energy of innocent blood. And it's the Involution that will-for lack of a better term-transport
the six Angels from Hell to Earth. It's Boniface's job to do
this, but he can't until the Angels have been properly deconditioned. That's why he's subjected them to rape, debasement, and torture for the last hundred years."

The last hundred years, she thought, annoyed now. "How do you know it's been a hundred years if time doesn't exist in Hell?"

Alexander stopped and spun; he seemed overjoyed by
her question. "You're starting to get it, Ruth-that's great!
You're understanding information that deliberately can't
be understood. Let me simplify. A Human life is a cycleyou're born, you grow up, and you die. And because the
Human soul is immortal, every minute of your life is, too,
on multiple planes of existence."

Ruth gaped at him.

He raised a monstrous finger. "Now, think of every
minute of your life on Earth as a deck of cards. What Lucifer can do through his specialized sorcery is shuffle that
deck to suit his needs. To change the chronological order
of the manner in which your life transpired."

Ruth winced. "Why would he want to fucking shuffle
every minute of my life?"

"Well, he doesn't. I'm just using you as an example.
He's actually shuffling someone else's life, because it's
part of his plan to gain a powerful ally in Hell."

Smirking ever harder, Ruth scratched her belly button.
"So who's life is he shuffling? Yours?"

The monster-limbed priest seemed disappointed. "No,
no, not mine. Venetia Barlow's."

"Who?" But then she blinked her awareness. "Oh, the
chick you were talking to on that funky hom-"

"The Vox Untervelt, yes. If you keep in mind that it's
impossible to fully understand the un-understandable,
then you'll get it. Remember, every minute of someone's
life is like a card in a deck. Yesterday, for instance, when
we talked to Venetia Barlow on the Vox Untervelt, she
hadn't even been born yet."

Ruth slapped her hands to her ears. "I don't know what
the fuck you're talking about! You're making my head
hurt with all this crazy shit!"

Alexander put his Annelok arm around Ruth's shoulder and led her onward. "Come on, Ruth, don't worry
about it. Just do what I say and everything will work out."

"Good, just don't talk anymore of that whack-job theory of irrelativity shit, okay?"

"Okay." His giant feet plodded on. "Just as long as you
understand that everything we're doing has already
happened-"

Ruth groaned.

"-and ultimately our mission revolves around changing the future by interfering with the past."

"Fuck it, man," Ruth sputtered. I give up....

"So now, back to something more comprehensible, " the
priest seemed relieved to say. The snakelike Annelok arm
unrolled and pointed. "Can you see the next District there?"

A steam car full of rowdy Ghouls hooted at her when
she stood on her tiptoes.

"Great legs, baby!"

Blow yourself, asshole. She was looking into the
distance ... and saw what seemed to be a long brick wall
several blocks down. "The wall?"

"Yes. That's the outer verge of the Boniface District. The
reason it's red is because the entire District is made of
blood bricks, and it just so happens that that's where
we're going."

"For my job?"

"Exactly"

Fuck, she thought. She didn't feel very good about this,
especially after hearing all of his mumbo jumbo about the
Devil shuffling time like a deck of cards. Past the next intersection, she saw a billboard that had no advertisements
on it, but just a strange shape:

"What the fuck is that?"

Alexander gave her a poker face. "Ruth, do you really
have to say the F-word every time you talk?"

"Huh?"

"Can't you just say 'What's that?' or 'What the heck is
that?' or 'What in tarnations is that?"'

Ruth smiled. "Okay. What the fuckin' heck in fuckin'
tarnations is fuckin' that?"

Alexander shuffled on. "You're hopeless. But to answer
your profane question, that design on the billboard is the
Involution."

"Lucifer's lucky shape?" she asked.

"Yes. You'll see those billboards all over the Boniface
District. It's all non-Euclidean geometry, Ruth, though I
don't guess you know what that means."

"You fuckin' guessed right," she laughed.

"Remember," he emphasized, "in the Living World,
there's science, and in Hell, there's sorcery. Here symbols
have power. That's why that spiral-the Involution-is so
powerful."

Ruth squinted at his words. "What's it symbolize?"

"When Lucifer was ejected from Heaven," the priest
explained, "he fell from the east, in a counterclockwise
spiral ... which formed the number six."

An intriguing day, at the very least. Venetia pondered its
complexities in the shower, yet her thoughts kept dicing
up, and she guessed the reason why was, I think I'm kind
of drunk.... The one beer she'd had at the bar had snuck
up on her now, buzzing her senses. I really am a
lightweight-drunk off one beer. But it was Dan who worried her. A closet smoker and binge drinker? It seemed so.
But now Venetia's own weaknesses began to intrude on
more serious thoughts: she'd actually been jealous seeing
Ann McGowen put her hands on him at the bar. Doesn't
make sense! she insisted to herself while drying off. She'd
be lying to herself in denying a physical attraction to him,
but she also knew the attraction was moot; it was born of
her instincts, not her spiritual self.

Just stop thinking about it.

The strong beer buzzed her so potently that she almost
stumbled heading back to her room. Mrs. Newlwyn,
crossing the atrium, looked up at Venetia's misstep, then
acted as though she hadn't noticed.

"It's late. You should be asleep."

"I know, Mrs. Newlwyn," Venetia replied, and grabbed
the stair-hall rail to steady herself. "The day got away
from me."

"Evidently it got away from Betta as well. Have you
seen her?"

"No, I haven't."

"She may have gone out for a walk...."

Yeah, a walk right into the woods, where John is waiting.
"Well, it is a clear night," she babbled.

"Pleasant dreams, dear," the tall woman said though
her typical stiff smile.

"Good night."

Jeez! I almost fell flat on my face! Venetia thought when
she got back to her room. Going from the warm stair-hall
to her cool room shocked her; she even felt mildly dizzy.
Had Mrs. Newlwyn noticed her tipsiness? Venetia let her
towel fall to the floor, then lay back nude on the bed.
That's better. She wondered if beds really spun, or if that
was just a cliche. I'm never going to drink again, she vowed,
taking deep breaths.

The AC unit hummed, and the cool air gusted and made
her nipples constrict and instantly cooled the metal key
between her breasts. Then an image rammed into her head
quite uninvited: Dan's mouth on her nipple, sucking-

Stop!

But as soon as she banished the image, it was replaced by
a more vivid one. Now it was Ann McGowen sucking her
nipple, while her hand caressed Venetia's other breast-

These are useless, stupid fantasies, so stop!

And then the images alternated, until Venetia began to
shiver. First Dan, then Ann, like that, back and forth, their
warm nudity pressing against hers. Eventually, they were
both upon her at once, Ann's nipples in her face, which Venetia desperately inclined her head to suck, and Dan's
mouth laving her sex, his strong hands parting her thighs.
Her hips flinched when fingers delved in, and then she
felt awash in obscure pleasures.

Venetia moaned at the brink of climax. "That's it, baby,"
a rich, female voice intoned. Venetia's mouthed sucked
the proffered nipple like a pacifier. "Just lie back and come.
Let Lottie get you off, then you can do me," and then a wet,
clicking chuckle resounded.