Of Kings and Demons (20 page)

“Barbatos is walking a tight-rope.” Gwyneth
spoke with resignation.

Prince Vassago nodded. “High stakes but
worth it. You see, the human race has made such progress in the last century,
and achieved such a level of awareness and understanding of themselves, that it
was hard for the Demons to manipulate their minds. However, history has reached
a critical juncture; problems in the last decade have been worrying. After the
Obama administration, the country has become a rudderless ship. The widening
budget deficit has crippled the nation’s financial system. The wars started by
George Bush continued into their twentieth year and had turned into a quicksand
for the world’s most powerful war machine. The flu epidemic has waxed and
waned, and now returned with a vengeance, immune to the vaccines doctors have
thrown at them. Humanity is restless, stirred by unemployment and governments
unimaginative in their resolution of these crises. Human leadership is
vulnerable. Your Kings are weak.”

“A collision of our worlds is about to
occur,” Gwyneth said. “A major war that will involve Man, Angels and Demons.”

Vassago stroke his moustache.

“We will put a stop to this.” Gwyneth
asked.

“Your prerogative to try but I am doubtful
of your success.”

“Why are you here?”

“To mitigate things.”

Gwyneth smiled. “Just that?”

Vassago swung around with a self-assured look, his chin firm. “Again, I
am insulted.”

“I am sorry.”

“I am always different from the rest.
Always”

“May I have the luxury of an elaboration?”

Vassago smiled. “I am tired of an existence
that is filled with hatred. It is equally tiring for us to harm the humans as
it is for you to save them.”

The Prince’s words flowed into the gentle breeze and weaved effortlessly
into Gwyneth’s ears.

“Demon no more?” Gwyneth asked.

The Prince chuckled, moustache dancing.
“Once a Demon, always a Demon. Despite my credentials, I am no longer the
vanguard of the Demons. Some have termed me soft, some have termed me stupid,
but I prefer to be termed changed. I have seen the senselessness of our
tussle.”

Vassago stroked his moustache “The human race, despite their foibles and
gross stupidities, have qualities worthy of admiration. The strength of their
faith, though blind at times, but strong nevertheless. Their ingenuity and
resilience is like a flame that does not seem to have any chance of being put
out. Despite the Demons’ best efforts, humans always came back stronger. Their
bridges get stronger, the buildings get taller, and they live longer and are
happier.”

Gwyneth’s smile stretched into a grin.

“What are you smiling at? You think your
bunch of Guardian Angels deserve the credit?”

        “We were just the supporting cast.” She said.

The prince said, “Humans just kept going on despite our best efforts to
destroy them. Their resilience is impressive. The Demons can create disasters,
spread failure, and plant fears, and mankind will cower in fear initially but
then they came back in full vengeance and end up further than they were. Their
creativity, courage, and …”

The prince stopped as he stared at Gwyneth.
“By the way, you now owe me a favour that you must repay with interest. Some
day.”

Gwyneth repeated “It is in my mental
ledger.”

“Good.” Vassago stroke his
moustache.

“What now?” Gwyneth asked.

“You should really focus on the
big battle ahead.”

Gwyneth’s eyes widened.

“Barbatos is going for a big contest of
strengths. He has plans and is now planting the seeds for a future that is
owned by the Demons. Although I am not sure what triggered him to act now but
he has already moved. So I can only wish you luck.”

“I need specifics, Prince
Vassago,” Gwyneth pleaded.

“I can only help with one
single bit of information.”

“What is that?”

“One clue. I cannot help you outright. It
will take away the thrill of our tussle. I still enjoy the fight, though I do
not vote for total annihilation.”

Gwyneth threw up her arms in exasperation.
“Contradictions.”

Prince Vassago leaned towards her. “Hill meets the river. Bastion on
valley. Castle Valmar. Barbatos,” he whispered and turned towards his steed.
Then he swung around almost instantaneously, and with a wink, said. “I said
nothing to you.”

The prince’s dainty expression gave way to
a serious frown, his bushy eyebrows raised like ugly caterpillars. “You better
hurry. Time is running out.”

“I must leave now.”

Gwyneth’s wings extended gradually as light glided down the feather. She
had regained some of her strength and Gwyneth felt light and bright as before.

“Don’t be too happy,” he said. “You need to
conserve your energy. Remember, you just came back from death.”

Gwyneth bowed in thanks. She felt strength,
warmth coursing gradually through her veins as she flew into the chilling
night, with a smile.

#

The glittering event that Gwyneth witnessed at the New York City Hall was
the Annual Ball for Children of the World—a charity event organized by the
Canner Foundation. The chairman of the foundation, billionaire Pat Canner, was
an important donor and an ardent supporter of Victor Palmer, having made
generous contributions to his previous three campaigns. The event had been
chosen as the platform for Victor Palmer to deliver a keynote speech.

It was not unusual for politicians to be
chosen for the event, but something unusual had been planned for that evening.
A segment had been inserted before the auction, which was used to raise funds
for the nominated charities. In turn, the Canner Foundation pledged a dollar
for every dollar raised. 

As guests streamed into the main hall and
passed through stringent security checks, Victor Palmer and his close
associates congregated on the second floor, where two rooms has been set aside
for them.

After moments of frivolity with members of the Canner family, Victor
Palmer excused himself. His aide, Jean Potts, was at the door.

“They are here,” she said.

Victor nodded. Once inside the second room,
Victor sat on the couch, just by the window. His palms were wet and his heart
raced like Saturday hounds in the circuit. He felt as if he were going to meet
the president of Russia.

Victor thought of getting a drink but
decided against it. He should wait. For a moment, he felt stupid and an odd
sense of unease crept into him.
Am I really going to do this?
Then he
remembered the nights of turmoil and the sheets of paper he had scribbled. It
was a hellish process trying to come to terms with his conscience, after the
intriguing conversation he had with Boris Komorov.

However, he came through. His mind was made
up and now there was only one thing to do. Just do it. Victor clenched his fist
and shut off the restraining thoughts. He would not be swayed. But as he
waited, he realized there was something outside the windows. He stood up and
caught sight of snow falling. It was quite a surprise as it was only September.
Climate disorder
? However, he had little time to ruminate about the fact
as the door opened.

He turned to find his guest present. Boris
Komorov looked handsome in his black suit and purplish tie that is bordered in
glimmering red. The Russian wore his trademark smile, one of those cocky and
reassuring ones that only winners wear. However, the Senator was sure there
would be more than just one winner.

“Senator.”

“Good evening. You are smiling?”

“I am invited to an important function, and
I am sure we have a friendship now.”

“Yes, maybe,” Senator said. “I have
something specific to discuss with you.”

“I know.” Boris said much to Victor’s
discomfort.
Does he know everything on my mind?

“It is about the
issue
that we
discussed.”

“Yes. I suspect your decision will warm my
heart.”

Boris bent forward and whispered into his ear. “Senator, seize the day.
Time wasting is never the hallmark of great men.”

Victor nodded and smiled, and spoke.

#

“Is it too much for you?” Robin Ballard
asked as he passed a glass of whisky to Governor Walter.

“What do you think?” Walter said and he
took a sip from the glass.

“I thought I had outgrown it.” Robin said.

“Outgrown what?” Walter asked.

“Fantasy,” Robin replied.

Walter sniggered. “Where would mankind be without the ability to dream
and the courage to chase those dreams, Robin?”

Robin shrugged. “Remember when we were in
school? Communism had just collapsed. The change in the affairs of human
civilization that we had never imagined was going to happen in our lifetime,
happened.”

“We won and all else went
kaput
.”

“It didn’t happen by chance.”

“Reagan had the guts …” Robin said

“It wasn’t just Reagan, Robin. It was back
to our Founding Fathers. Each President set the bar by showing courage and
equanimity and embraced the values of liberty. That made any acts of that
failed that bar unacceptable. Any future President that came into the White
House has a standard to uphold. That made standing up to tyranny and unjust, in
every part of the world, a part of our natural inclination, part of our moral
fibre.”

Robin paused “Yes, Mr President.”

Walter cringed and waved it off before
continuing “Andrew Jackson stood his ground against the bankers. Lincoln had
the pluck to fight slavery and stood above all the inconsequential masses. He
steered history. Roosevelt stood head and shoulder above everybody despite
being confined to a wheelchair. Harry Truman looked like an ordinary bloke from
the south, but he had extraordinary foresight and courage, and took a stand
against the communists. Reagan or Nixon, they proved they were worthy standard
bearers of the flag of liberty and democracy. They were all Kings of Men.”

Walter paused and sipped his whisky, then
continued.

“Charlemagne, Peter the Great, Churchill,
and all of the rest. Over the masses of humans, mired in ignorance, they were
beacon of hope, steadfast in their ways, they fought all enemies of darkness;
and they fought they own weakness. They were the anchors of hope for the
besieged humanity and they provided humanity with their display of courage
which set the precedent for all Kings of Men to come. That is inspiration for
us all. That is why I ran for public office in the first place.”

Walter shook his head. “Robin, I got cold
feet last night, a coward. Got to admit it but I actually thought of giving it
all up because of the attack.”

“You did what any human would do.”

Both of them heard the interruption and looked towards the door, the speaker
was Eugene. His arms were folded and he looked self-assured.

“Please do not let guilt reside in your
heart, Governor.”

“Angel…”

“Eugene, please.”

“Instinctive reflexes are for
any
ordinary
man,” Walter said. “A sane man would give up at the first sign of danger to
himself. Cowards run for cover at the first shot during battle. It is the
extraordinary who will stand and fight, in the face of fire, in the face of
death.”

“You nearly ran away but you did not.
Something in you kept you back. Now you must live up to your own definition of
an extraordinary man and avoid cowardice.”

“You are right.”

“Make the right choice, and change the
future.”Eugene said.

“I will redeem myself. I want to prove I am
worthy to stand next to those distinguished gentlemen.”

“We will be proud of you.”

“Could you tell us about yourself?”

“Is that important?”

“Yes, we are just like schoolboys who’d
seen the first fairy.” Robin enunciated, nervousness weighing on his eyebrows.
“We are keen.”

Eugene sat himself next to the governor and
began

“I was born in times of turbulence when a
member of my race was worth no more than a stack of hay. My name is Eugene
Freeman, son of a farm hand. My father was a slave in a New Jersey. He worked
long hours, and worked regardless of sunshine or rain. I helped him when I was
about your age. It was a tough existence, but we were a lot luckier than other
slaves. At least we had a roof and food we eat tasted like food. We were freed
when President Lincoln signed the Act of Emancipation. Then the war came
because there were people who felt we did not deserve the inalienable freedom
of a human being.”

“You fought in the war?”

“No. I served in logistics, behind the
battle lines, and I helped with the transport of food and medical supplies. My
family was involved, my father and my uncle fought in Philip Sheridan’s
regiment.”