The Code War (40 page)

All around the edge of the piazza there
were tables and benches laid out where men and women were working
busily. Leather was being cut to size, colours were being applied
to fabrics, pins were being beaten into heels and soles were being
stitched.

Heads looked up as the
lightcraft's shadow was noticed and people paused from their
labours to welcome the visitors. Hands waved and faces smiled.
Jabez returned the greeting while Agatha surveyed the scene in
delight at the cosiness of the community.

They closed in on the town centre
with its architecture of Ionic and Corinthian pillars, Roman,
Romanesque and Gothic arches, walls made from a hundred varieties
of bricks and stone and leaded stained windows. These dazzled the
eyes with moving images of life in medieval Italy.

Beyond the piazza, terracotta-tiled
roofs serried out from the centre in joyful disorder somehow
managing to pose themselves elegantly between a double helix of
roads and lanes that curled itself around the neighbourhood on the
landward side. Beyond that, the houses and mills surrendered to
olive groves and vineyards that undulated out in sun-drenched
ecstasy upwards towards the granite hills at the isle's centre.

A dozen shoe workers took to wing
and flew up to greet the lightcraft, escorting it while nodding in
admiration at the vessel's curves and styling. Some of them formed
a circle above the lightcraft and flew around it laughing and
waving olive sprigs. The others flew down to gather vine leaves and
then formed a circle below the ship spinning in a countervailing
direction. Jabez held the craft in a hover while the townsfolk
below pointed up and laughed at the fun their friends were having.
Those in the circles implored the left-behind land lovers to join
them and make bigger circles. Soon the air was filled with
fast-beating wings as angels ascended rapidly to join the two
competing squadrons in the vault above them. The air was thick with
calls and cries as angels hallooed and hollered to each other,
spiralling like swallows enjoying a slipstreamed syncopated
showtime. Now a third circle formed above the other two and then
broke and began diving and weaving between those below. The circles
and lines began to spin and weave faster and faster with the
aerobatics becoming more and more elaborate. Finally, as though at
a command, all the formations broke up in the same instant and the
angels flattened out and glided down on full wingspan, exhausted,
returning to land gracefully at their point of
departure.

Agatha, inspired, leapt from the
lightcraft into the void, stretching out her wings and making a
couple of passes over the town before landing in the middle of the
piazza with a polite curtsey and wing flourish to her new hosts.
Jabez brought the lightcraft down beside her and jumped
out
, also bowing in appreciation for the
dazzling impromptu flying display.

At one side of the square a
shoe-shop quartet of non-flying cobblers assembled together to add
their own latin sonics to Heaven's pervasive sensurround Music. At
the same time boot makers tapped their lasts in rhythm with
hammers, dance shoe makers tap-danced their wares and ballet shoe
artisans performed a soft shoe shuffle supplemented with flashing
fans and shimmering silks.

'Is all this just for us, two
or'nery angels from nowheresville?' asked Jabez in
amazement.

'Speak for yourself,' replied Agatha, 'I
get this kind of reception everywhere I go.'

Within a minute all the angels had
returned to their work tables and were picking up their tools. The
chatter among them continued as they laughed about what each of
them had done during the aerobatic 'promenade' as they called
it.

A female angel approached Jabez
and Agatha, smiling expectantly, a swatch of leather hides over one
arm and a short bone-handled knife in her hand. 'Thank you for
coming,' she said, looking from one to the other. 'We haven't had
so much fun since yesterday. Now what can I do for you two lovely
people? Are you buying or supplying? And while you're here, will
you eat with us?'

Agatha spoke up first, 'This is my
friend Jabez, he wore his feet out on Earth a short while ago and
he needs some new soft boots to help him banish his blisters.'

The woman looked down at Jabez'
feet.

'I think we can help you out all
right,' she said confidently, 'My name's Maria. Come over to
Gianni's bench.'

Maria led the couple across the piazza
to a bench where a man was lifting a boot from a last after nailing
on a new sole. He matched up the boot with its mate and held them
up for inspection by the newcomers.

The boots were of soft doeskin
leather on the inside and seasoned cowhide outside. Scenes from the
Exodus ran around the sides etched in filigree silver while the
uppers were stitched to the soles with gold fibre. The eyes were
rimmed with brown mother of pearl which perfectly set off the
brushed leather of the tongue.

Jabez's jaw dropped. 'Those should be
put on a plinth. Surely no-one's going to do anything as vulgar as
actually wear them?'

The cobbler smiled. 'Buon giorno, I am
Gianni' he said, holding out his hand. 'You know, here we make
shoes that are worn throughout Paradise. St Michael gallop his
horse in our riding boots. Gabriel play golf in our spike shoes and
Mary, Jesus' mum, she jog every day in our trainers.'

'Mary jogs?' said Agatha
incredulous.

'Sure she does,' replied Gianni
with a wide grin. 'Not for lose weight of course. But she like to
jog through all the lands of Heaven while she pray. Last year she
even pray for me personally. This I know because she put a note in
my globe. She pray for me while she jog in shoes we make her. Is
very nice.'

'I bet she doesn't jog through
Montefalco,' put in Jabez.

'Even Montefalco,' replied Gianni
laughing while Maria nodded in agreement. 'She can jog in
Montefalco because she run in our trainers. I seen it on my globe.
Those great big monster with the enormous teeth and the small
brain.' Gianni waved his arms to illustrate his story. 'They think
they got a little blue sandwich when they see her. But she go so
fast in our trainers they just suck air. You look it up some
time.'

'I will,' replied Jabez whose
imaginative mind was now filled with pictures of the mother of the
infant Jesus racing past razor-toothed cows in a stable whilst
wearing superfast running shoes. For a moment Jabez and Agatha were
both bereft of words.

'Now signore, what sort of shoes
you like for today?'

Jabez could tell that Gianni had told
this story before and enjoyed the effect it had on his listeners.
His face bore a deliciously smug grin.

'Jabez requires a fix for sore feet,'
said Maria, breaking into the silence. 'What you got Gianni?'

Six hours later after a meal of
pasta and sambuca-cooked mackerel washed down with prosecco and
amarone, Jabez and Agatha left the party of twenty angel-cobblers
they had spent the evening with and returned to the lightcraft.
They had heard many stories from Gianni of how their hand-made
footwear had been used by Paradise's many residents. In return
Jabez described the wonder worlds that were awaiting mankind and
Agatha recited a poem she had made up about their unexpected
welcome reception that day.

Jabez was getting used to the feel
of his new walking boots, which were both kind to his blistered
feet as well as a marvel to look at. They were presented to him by
Gianni fresh from the workshop just as he and Agatha were finishing
their dessert of Boot and Shoe Archipelago ice cream and melon. If
the name sounded less than heavenly, Agatha confided to Jabez, the
flavour was definitely more so.

Their hosts waved green and red
lanterns as they boarded the ship, then wished them Godspeed and a
swift return.

By morning they arrived at Agatha's
downtown warehouse where she alighted. 'Take care Jabez,' she
whispered. 'Don't relax your guard for a moment, the enemy is
watchful.'

Jabez took off. 'Hong Kong,' he
said to the Fundial lightcraft's autosystem. 'Slowly. I need to
sleep off my Italian ice cream.'

When he awoke he was in a hover
several miles above Yaumati. He yawned, stretched and took back the
controls and brought the craft down on Nathan Road. Soon he was
back at work distributing the 1.11 code where it would be seen by
Nancy. He was getting to enjoy his work.

Jabez slowed his stride and concentrated
on listening. Lafarge was on the other side of the road and had him
in view. Down the side street where he was headed he knew that
there would be no human eyes on him. But he still needed that
distraction to be sure.

Here it came, just as Luke had
promised. The sound of the ambulance's wail grew loud very quickly
- all the better to surprise everyone in the area and cause them to
look. Jabez knew it was a false alarm. No-one had been injured. The
ambulance would soon return to its base.

As heads turned away from him he
summoned the Fundial with his will and heard its peculiar purring
that told him it was right in front of him. He felt for its door
handle, opened it and jumped in. A final glance down the road
reassured him that Lafarge had seen nothing. The demon would look
back this way in a moment and see that he had disappeared. Another
round to the angels.

He looked ahead. Dark blob above. Coming
fast. Crash.

Zhivkin slammed into the lightship
and momentarily praised himself for correctly predicting where it
would be. The impact winded him nonetheless but there was no time
to waste on getting his breath back. He raised his right arm
bearing the hydraulic hinge that he had ripped from the Tai O's
rooftop firedoor and brought it down hard onto the craft beneath
him. The thin skin was not made for such treatment and rent
asunder. Two more powerful thumps from the hinge and he had made a
big enough hole to squeeze through. Inside, Jabez, frozen in shock
had barely moved. Angel and demon in close confinement, a rare
event. Jabez stared at the hard expression on the demon's red face
trying to comprehend what had just happened and what he should do
about it. But he had little time. Zhivkin's fist slammed into his
face, once, twice, three times. He was hardly conscious as Zhivkin
found the door handle mechanism and opened it. He kicked the angel
savagely in his side and propelled him through the door. Jabez felt
his right wing catch on the door frame but another kick from
Zhivkin broke the wing and he found himself lying on the pavement
with the limb sticking out in front of him in an unnatural
way.

Jabez still hardly knew what had
happened except that it was very bad. His breath came in short
bursts and he knew he had broken ribs. Zhivkin's arm came out,
grabbed the door and slammed it shut. Sitting inside the cockpit he
looked for the controls knowing they would be intuitive to operate.
There were fewer than he expected. How does it fly? He thought
furiously. No controls, so…must be thought-controlled. He was
sitting in the pilot's seat, where Jabez had been. He projected his
thought. Move backwards, he ordered. The craft made a slight shift
to the rear. That worked. Time to go.

Outside, Jabez rolled on his side
towards where he knew the Fundial must be, even though he couldn't
see it. Despite his pain he kicked out with his foot and connected
with the ship's hull. He kicked again and again and within a moment
found what he was looking for.

Inside, Zhivkin gave the order
with his mind. Ascend. The craft lifted. Faster, he commanded. The
Fundial picked up pace and started to leave Nathan Road behind. He
looked out below to where Lafarge was still at his post. The French
demon was staring up at him in shock. How can he see me, thought
Zhivkin, I thought this craft was supposed to be
invisible?

He returned his attention to
flying. Quite simple really. So long as you make your thoughts
strong and clear, the craft picks them up and responds. Clever
angels. But not clever enough. It's mine now.

As he rose through Earth's atmosphere
accelerating rapidly and burst into space Zhivkin felt the craft
offering him the option to leave the Fourth Dimension. He reviewed
the many choices available to him and was astonished at the places
that he could go. All in good time. There might be a pursuit so
best take it home where the prize can be defended. He transited the
Fundial into the Fifth Dimension, found his bearings and ordered it
towards Inferno. As he flashed across huge distances in fleeting
moments he found he was enjoying himself.

There was Inferno, straight ahead.
He ordered the Fundial to make itself visible then he made a pass
across the surface of Hell and was rewarded as heads popped up to
look. On his second pass there were even more. By his third pass
almo
st the entire population of Inferno
had come to see the strange apparition. As he brought the craft
lower Zhivkin realised that the huge crowd of demons were not
looking at him or the craft, they were looking at something else.
He opened the door and peered below. Suspended underneath the
lightcraft by a leather boot hooked around a grab handle was an
angel. Its wing protruded sideways at a very odd angle. Zhivkin
cursed. He'd brought an angel to Hell.

With great foreboding Zhivkin
landed the ship above Kodrob's squadroom in Pentacurse. The crowd
parted and Bezejel came forward with thunder in her eyes as he got
out. 'What have you done?' she shouted. 'Fool. What have you
done?'