To THE LAND OF THE ELECTRIC ANGEL: Hugo and Nebula Award Finalist Author (The Frontiers Saga) (34 page)

As Rio went through the door, Blake shouted after her. "Don't try to take Voss yourself!" Several faces tightened at the sound of the name.

"Voss is the one who ordered those men to kill His Holiness," one of them said.

"Are you with Constantine Dahomey?" one of the others asked Blake, who nodded.

More faces grew taut and two men crossed themselves.

Blake turned to Cardinal Crowe. "Tell me what to do."

"God will do that, Your Holiness."

"Don't count on it. He might not be as happy with your new pope as you are. We've never been on very good speaking terms."

The cardinal smiled softly. "He's heard you even when you didn't speak."

Blake made a face. "Don't say 'God works in mysterious ways,' for God's sake."

"You are certainly evidence of that," the older man said.

"All right, let's get this over with."

Rio re-entered the concrete storeroom followed by Constantine.

"Where were you?" Blake asked him.

The head of the witchcraft cult stopped, causing Linda Muirwood and several others behind him to bump together. The big black man looked over the group, his eyes not missing the wrapped form of the dead pope and the several men kneeling in prayer around it.

"I was doing what I was supposed to do – cast spells."

Blake made a growling sound. "Spells! We needed swords and lasers, not spells."

Constantine's smile was slow and his face formed an expression of tired superiority. "Perhaps our magic did more than your swords, my friend."

"His Holiness wanted to know–" began Cardinal Parsons.

"His Holiness?" Constantine's expression changed to one of mild surprise and disbelief.

"Yes," Blake said curtly, somewhat embarrassed by the title and the terms of address. "I am pope." He ignored Linda's quick arcane gesture of protection. "We must rally at once and strike again."

"Pope?" Constantine said softly, his eyes narrowing and his body becoming more tense. "Pope Blake."

"Urban the Tenth. Now what is the situation? What have you seen?"

Constantine moved into the room in his long black cloak. His followers filled the doorway and stood warily inside. "There is rebellion everywhere, or almost everywhere. No country – not even this one – has enough police to put down a really popular revolt. The only time revolts fail is when they don't have enough popular support, or their leaders are betrayed, or – and this is the greatest cause – when they don't have weapons, or when the opposition has more weapons and greater skills."

"Thank you for the lecture, Constantine," Blake said, "but what is the situation?"

"Revolt, my holy friend, revolt! The Tiberian Arena in Verona and the Darius in Baghdad are just starting the night games and things are happening. But already the Garibaldi in Milan, the Hadrian in Venice, and the Marcus Aurelius in Palermo are in our control. They beat us in Tehran, at Theodora's Circus in Istanbul, and at the Circus of Constantine the Great in Turkey."

"What about here?" Blake asked.

Constantine smiled. "Nero, down in L.A., is ours. The Romulus in New York is still undecided. We are winning all around in the Jim Bowie in Dallas, and in Houston they blew up the whole damn Alamo Arena. We have the Borgia in Atlanta, but I've lost contact with Detroit."

Linda spoke up. "They broke out of the Horatio Nelson Marine Arena in Liverpool in amphibious tanks and are raising hell there."

"Do you know anything about Plaza Montezuma in Mexico City?" Cardinal Crowe asked. "My brother is the chaplain there."

Linda shook her head. "Things are so mixed up. Things are happening so fast –"

"Where are we losing?" Blake demanded.

"The Custer in Chicago. They nerve-gassed the whole Arena. The Hannibal in Naples is a complete wreck. The King Feisal in Mecca was lasered to rubble by the army – people, Prince Hassim, and all. But I have hopes for the MacArthur Arena in Manila. We have some good people there."

"But the people are all
bottled up
in the arenas," Blake said. "Get them out, get them into the streets, up in the arks knocking out the police, capturing the television stations, moving–!"

"It is happening where people are allowed to concentrate, you know that," Constantine admonished. "We
have
captured, the majority of stations, but we get cut off, too. That's why we have to get the network here, if it isn't too late."

"I saw them setting up some big fuckin' lasers, all around the studio," one of the men behind Constantine said. "That one is going to be a bitch to take."

"Isn't there some way we can negotiate?" Cardinal Crowe asked.

Both Blake and Constantine gave him disgusted looks.

"I think that time is past," Constantine said. "We tried for years, but they just kept arresting the negotiators." He pulled a laser from his cloak and held it up. "This is what will give us liberty!"

Blake put his hand on the Cardinal's shoulder. "Every generation fights for its own liberty in its own way. I'm afraid this is the only way left to us. Those in power never give up easily. They never have, they probably never will."

Blake now looked at Rio. "Doreen?"

"No trace. One woman said she saw them leaving the Arena together, but was not sure where they were going."

Constantine said, "Your friend Franklin is all right, by the way."

"Granville?" Rio said eagerly. "Where is he?"

"He was recruited by a Mensa cell just after you were arrested. When your friend Voss started working with the bishops, Franklin went underground."

"Voss is working with the churches?" Rio asked, her face sad.

"Went right up into the hierarchy. Birds of a feather, I should say. He is probably holing up with the archbishop at Riot Central."

"Where's Granville now?" Blake asked.

Constantine grinned wickedly. "He has been working on Operation Sword, for the Order of St. Michael, to drive the wicked from the Garden of Eden. It's a strike plan to hit Riot Central."

"Why didn't you tell us Granville was working with us?" Rio asked.

"You had no need to know, my dark-haired wench. The Mensa cell went to considerable trouble to make it look as if your friend Franklin had been dropped in the chute to the torch."

"Why?" Blake looked surprised.

"Because your friend Voss had him on the 'Shoot on sight' list, that's why. But these old arks have a lot of warrens the blackshirts don't know about. He was well hidden."

"Thank God!" Rio said, and Constantine arched an eyebrow at her.

"First things first." Blake said. "We must secure the whole network operation." He gestured to Rio, Constantine, and Linda. "Let's go look at this network studio."

A few minutes later the four crouched behind a pile of concrete rubble, a result of one of Kong's giant footsteps.

The network roof had been broken and Blake could see the sky. Columns of smoke rose here and there, and quite a few military aircars were flying around. The mall before the network was filled with dead bodies, trash, a crying child, rubble, and, at the end, a barricade of unbreakable metal mirrors.

Constantine swore. Those damn mirrors will turn a laser, at least
these
lasers. But see those muzzles? Those are .5 GE Jupiters. Probably tied into the main circuit, too, or at least into the station's emergency fusion engine. They can outshoot us and outwit us, both. And the soldiers must be on their way by now."

Blake and Constantine turned to sit down below the edge of the rubble.

"If we could have hit fast enough ... Damn...!" Constantine's face was angry and brutal-looking as he pondered the problem. "I'm not certain a curse would work under these conditions," he said.

"GE Jupiters," Blake mused. "Jupiter. Zeus. Isn't there another one of those big monster robots like the Kong – a Zeus?"

"Yes, there used to be. They 'haven't used any of those things for several years. Scared the hell out of people and used to cause more damage than they were worth in production value." He stopped talking and looked at Blake. "I'll be damned..."

"Yes, you probably will. Where are those things now? There were others, the ... uh..."

"The Octobot; a big cowboy one; some kind of legendary dinosaur; a big ape – Kong, they called him – and Zeus. There were
several
dinosaurs, though, and some big snakes. Symbols of evil they called them – which shows you how people really know about symbology ... or evil ... or opposing forces." Constantine sneered and shook his head in disgust. "But let me see, where were they put?" His face brightened and he sat up, grabbing at Blake's
arm. "Here!
There's a dinosaur here, in San Francisco!"

"Where? The dinosaur must be Godzilla."

"Let's see ... They were going to have the ape and the dinosaur fight and wreck the old Oakland Bay Bridge; but before they could get all the clearances, some church official committed suicide by ramming an airbus into it. Zongos had been doing that for years; they used to jump off, too. But after they closed it and built cheap condominiums across it, that stopped."

"Never mind that. What happened to Godzilla, the dinosaur robot?"

"They were going to have the fight, anyway, out in the Bay; but about that time some Indian magnabot, Kali, I think, dumped on the Siva Arena in Bombay. Killing a few thousand Indians was no big thing, but the American ambassador and some church people got wiped out. So they called off the fight here, tore down what was left of the bridge; and that was pretty much the end of the big robots. That was what was such a big surprise when the ape appeared."

The warlock pursed his lips and shut his eyes. "Let me think. I seem to remember they stored him in some warehouse along the Bay. I seem to remember a picture of the two of them standing in a big warehouse somewhere in ... South San Francisco!" Constantine opened his eyes. "Yes, I think I know where that is. Right between
St. Thomas
and
Iconium.
Yes, that's it. They store a huge Christ there, too, something they use in religious parades, and some rather big angels that they fly around hung from aircars."

"Let's go get the damn thing and stomp this town down!" Blake said.

"Is that the way a pope should talk?" Rio grinned.

"That's the way
this
pope talks. Come on!"

"A pagan pope, that's what you are, a pagan pope." She shook her head.

They started running back the way they had come, and Blake's heart was pounding.

They paused long enough to give orders that the various factions continue the fighting, whenever possible, in the streets and throughout the arcologs. Constantine sent Linda off to meet with their coven and continue the spell-making, then he guided Blake and Rio down the passage that lead to the heliport at the south side of the Arena.

A sudden shout was heard, and the sound of pounding feet. Then a mob of bloodied men and women came out of a side passage waving weapons. Some of them wore full gladiator armor, others had only bits and pieces, and some were in motley civilian clothing. The man in front threw up his muscular arm in a sudden, violent gesture, waving his sword and giving a fierce shout of joy and recognition.

"Blake!"

Through the blood and dirt on his face Blake recognized Bennett, his fellow gladiator. Marta and Kapuki ran forward, too, and they all embraced.

"How did you get free?" Blake asked.

"A member of the cell assigned to freeing us slipped us a laser as we were coming out of the Arena yesterday. We started cutting our way out when we heard the fun starting," Bennett said.

Blake looked around at the group of twenty or so gladiators and others. Some he recognized as being in his training group and others he did not know. "Where's Neva? Rob? Where's–"

"Dead," Marta said. "Rob and Narmada got it two days ago, going up against an old Madman modification. Neva ... was hit an hour ago."

Blake held Marta close.

Kapuki said fiercely, "But Sergeant White got the sons of bitches that did it!"

Blake looked up from Marta's hair. "What?"

"Sergeant White jumped right in there and got every one of those bastards," the slim oriental girl snapped.
"Sergeant White?"

Bennett nodded. "Once the fun started, he joined us. If he hadn't, I don't think we would have gotten out of the cells."

"Where is he?" Blake asked.

"Come on, Blake," Constantine urged.

"He got hit just a few minutes ago," Marta said. "Back there. He was leading, and ... we came up against some blackshirts with heavy lasers."

"Blake!"
Constantine tugged at his arm.

"Rio, this is the bunch of fumble-footed zongos I was training with. Look, you children of fate, Rio and Constantine and I have something to do. I can't take any more time to explain, but I need your help and it's important."

Bennett grinned through the blood on his face as he turned to the others. "Come on, you zongos, let's get this revolution on the road!"