Archangel Evolution (20 page)

“Who’s Timothy?” Gabriel asked before they
sat down.

Martin said, “I thought you were my 10:30
appointment. A young human boy, just learning to play. He must be
late.”

Sampson said, “Play what?”

“The piano, of course,” Martin said.

Gabriel explained: “Martin is a renowned
pianist. He’s played in concert halls all over the world.
But—correct me if I’m wrong, Martin—you have always preferred
teaching to playing.”

“You’re absolutely right, my boy. Playing for
hours doesn’t do for me what teaching for five minutes can. It’s my
life work.”

The phone rang. Martin strode over to a
wall-mounted phone. Before answering it, he said, “Please, please,
make yourselves at home.”

Gabriel and Sampson sat in two of the chairs
while Martin took the call. Lowering his voice, Sampson said, “Will
he be able to help us?”

“Trust me, if anyone is plugged into the
angel network here, it will be Martin. Before we left, he was the
head of the local angel chapter.”

“But will he be receptive?”

Gabriel leaned back in his chair,
contemplating the question. Then, leaning forward, he said, “Martin
was always one of the most caring people I knew. He valued
equality, honesty, generosity. He teaches human kids to play the
piano. Unless he has completely changed since I last met him, he’s
our guy.”

Sampson nodded as Martin returned. Martin
said, “We’re in luck, my appointment’s been cancelled. I was
worried you would have to sit through an hour of rough, beginner
playing.”

“Great,” Gabriel said.

“So, what brings you to the Big Apple? I
presume this is not a social call.”

“What makes you say that?” Gabriel asked.

“No advance notice, for one. And secondly,
when I returned from my phone call a moment ago, the two of you
were whispering like a pair of co-conspirators in a bank heist. I’m
getting old, but my mind is as sharp as ever, you can’t fool
me.”

Gabriel laughed. “I don’t suppose I can. And
you are right, of course. We’ve come to request your help.”

“It must be important. Last letter I got from
your parents said that you were at the front lines of the
War—that’s a solid ten hour flight to New York.”

“That is where we’ve come from,” Gabriel
said, choosing not to mention that they had teleported rather than
flown. They needed to ease their way into the subject of their
alliance with the demons.

“So you’re a fighter, too?” Martin asked
Sampson.

“I try, although my girlfriend tends to save
my butt half the time,” Sampson said chuckling.

“Ahh, your lady is in the force, too. That’s
good. Long distance relationships are hard.” He said it
matter-of-factly, from experience. Gabriel knew Martin’s story; it
was one of love, joy, and ultimately sadness. His wife had been in
the angel army, returning home a few times a year, when the
soldiers were given leave for holidays. Eventually she had been
killed in a battle. Their four kids had been somewhat scarred—as
would be expected—by the experience of losing their mother so
young. None had joined the army.

Gabriel said, “Uncle, I have a story to tell
you, but you might not believe a lot of it. I ask that you try to
keep an open mind.”

Martin’s eyebrows arched when he heard
Gabriel’s disclaimer and request. “Gabriel, I have always known you
to be trustworthy. I will not look for lies in that which is
true.”

Gabriel was glad that his Uncle wasn’t up to
date on some of his recent history, which included a spat of lies
to various people, including to his own girlfriend on multiple
occasions.

“Thanks. This might take a while, but feel
free to stop me if you have a question or would like to take a
break.”

“Out with it, my boy. You’ve certainly piqued
my interest.”

With that, Gabriel began from the beginning.
He left nothing out and made no effort to hide his own
indiscretions. His mission to abduct Taylor, the lies he told her,
his effort to escape with her: he laid his soul bare without making
excuses for any of it. Occasionally, Martin would sigh and stretch
his arms high over his head, as if the story was making his muscles
sore. To his credit, however, he didn’t interrupt, stopping Gabriel
only once to make a cup of tea for the three of them.

When Gabriel reached the part where Sampson
rescued him from the angel dungeons, Martin murmured, “Mmmm,” and
nodded his head. At that point, Sampson went back in time to tell
the story of his decision to side with the demons after becoming
uncomfortable with things he had heard about Dionysus’s ultimate
goals.

Finally, Gabriel finished with a flourish as
he described Taylor’s miraculous evolution, her destruction of six
members of the Archangel Council, David’s corruption, and the
subsequent evolution of the group now calling themselves the New
Archangels. At the end of the tale the silence was so complete that
you could have heard a teardrop splash on the meticulously polished
hardwood floors.

Leaning forward, Martin looked into Gabriel’s
eyes intensely, and said, “Why exactly are you here, Gabriel?”

“I think you know, Uncle,” Gabriel said.

Changing gears, Martin said, “Your poor
parents, they must be a mess. David was always such a good kid. And
he idolized you.”

“They still have hope that he will see the
error in his ways, but I have seen the heat of his anger. He is
furious with me for betraying the angel cause. Ever since that day
on the Warrior’s Plateau…he’s been different. He’s not the brother
I once knew.”

Switching back to his initial line of
thinking, Martin said, “This is not going to be an easy sell,
Gabriel, not when decades of belief have been engrained in the
angel population. Angels are brought up hating demons, wishing them
dead. I mean, you were blinded to what was really going on, too.
Dionysus has fooled us all.”

“So you believe me,” Gabriel said.

“It’s not so much that I believe you that I
want to believe you. I have always wished there was a way to make
peace with the demons, settling things without killing each other.
It helps too that I know you. The others will not be so
trusting.”

“That’s where you come in. They know you,
they respect you, they trust you. I am hoping that between the
three of us, we can convince enough of them to make a real
difference.”

Frowning, Martin said, “And then what? We all
rise up and fight alongside the demons. Most of us aren’t in the
army because we don’t want to be. We want to live a normal
life.”

Gabriel stood, his hands fisted with energy.
“Then you must fight for that normal life. This affects everyone,
all of us. The world as we know it is about to be destroyed, to be
replaced with an Evil Utopia dreamed up by a madman. Mankind has no
idea what is about to hit them, and even if they did, they would be
incapable of defending themselves. Who will stand up to defend
them? The demons will. Will you? Will you defend the defenseless?”
By the time he finished speaking, Gabriel’s face was shining with
emotion.

Smiling, Martin said, “Of course I will,
Gabriel. I was only trying to see if you had what it takes to
convince the rest of them. That speech shows me that you do. Bring
that same fire with you to the gathering.”

“What gathering?”

“The one I’m about to set up for tonight.” He
looked at his watch. “Look, it’s only two o’clock now. You guys can
make some lunch while I hit the phones, try to get something
scheduled.”

Gabriel said, “Thank you, Uncle. Thank you
for trusting me.”

T
here were humans
everywhere. Despite having grown up with them and being fathered by
one, David’s tolerance for humankind was low. Just the smell of
them was making him nauseous. The way they walked around talking
arrogantly on their cell phones about finalizing their meaningless
deals, how they drove expensive cars while playing loud rap music,
and their ultimate belief that they were the rulers of the earth,
the supreme species: it all made David want to put them on an
island—and then blow it up.

Angels should be ruling the world. They
should be free to roam the skies, to fill the world with light, to
chase away the darkness. Instead, they were forced to hide their
true selves. Because of the demons. If the angels moved, the demons
were always there with them. Watching. Waiting. Protecting the
insolent fools that wandered through their pointless lives without
a clue as to their true place in the pecking order. Humans were
third, at best. Clearly the angels and demons were above them. And
David would probably place dolphins and certain breeds of dogs,
like collies for example, ahead of the filthy humans as well.

David wanted to know what it was like to feel
the life ebbing from a human, because he, of the superior race, had
exercised his authority over the lowly human. Disgusting.
Vermin.

He sat on a bench and watched them crawling
over everything, like cockroaches. Cassandra was on his right,
Lucas on his left. David said, “I wish we could start now.”

“Too risky. We have to wait until nightfall,”
Lucas said.

“I know that,” David growled. “I just
wish.”

Cassandra said, “We could start…”

“Don’t encourage him,” Lucas warned.

“Shut up! Let her speak. What did you mean by
that, dear Cassandra?” David asked, the tone of his voice
transitioning seamlessly from sharp and cold, to smooth and
buttery. It was a little trick he had learned from the master actor
himself, Dionysus.

“I only meant that there are less risky
targets we can begin with. Targets that will be easily handled
without fear of detection. Like old people, for example. The kind
that sit at home and watch soap operas with their cats.”

“You’re sick,” David said. “I like it.”

“No, let’s just stick to the original plan
and wait until dark and then go after a few drunks on the street.”
Lucas had stood up and was towering over David, who was still
seated.

“Disagreeing with the mission leader. Tisk,
tisk, Lucas. Your actions could be construed as an act of treason,
grounds for imprisonment or even execution.”

Lucas backed off and looked at Cassandra for
support. She said, “It could look that way, Lucas.”

Defeated, he sat back down. A few minutes of
silence passed, and then he said, “Fine. But we have to be very
careful or the entire mission could be ruined.”

David said, “That’s a good little bee, follow
me.” With that, he stood up and marched off. He could hear feet
scuffling behind him as his two pawns followed behind like obedient
dogs. He vowed never to take orders from either of them again.

David walked and walked, not really caring in
which direction he was going, until the streets thinned out, and
the foot traffic dwindled. While he walked, he trained his ears to
pick up sounds directly behind him. He heard harsh whispers, like
an argument. The two love birds were disagreeing about something.
Lucas was probably proposing an immediate coup against their
leader. His rationale would be that there were two of them and only
one of him and that they had seniority and should be running the
mission anyway. Cassandra was probably saying that she agreed but
that Dionysus would punish them when they returned. He trusted
neither of them.

Tuning his super-hearing elsewhere, David
ignored his little doggies and focused on finding his first target.
First of many
, he thought. He passed a group of punk kids
sitting on a stoop, smoking cigarettes and laughing at an
inappropriate joke one of them had made. Probably skipping school.
Probably from broken homes where one parent was long gone and the
other couldn’t care less about what their kids were doing as they
worked three jobs and were more concerned with putting food on the
table. They were good targets, but would have to wait until night.
They might have guns, and while David didn’t fear such arcane human
weapons, they made a lot of noise and would draw attention.

A few more blocks and the neighborhood got
even older, more rundown. Sidewalks crumbled, buildings chipped and
rotted, mailboxes were covered in graffiti. An old man was sitting
on his front step reading a newspaper. No witnesses nearby.
Perfect.

David approached him confidently, like he
knew exactly where he was going, what he was doing. “Hello there,
sir. How are you today?” David said politely.

Without looking up from his paper, the bald
guy said, “Keep on movin’, son. Whatever you’re sellin’, I ain’t
buyin’.”

A quick flare of heat bubbled into David’s
head.
How dare the filthy, insolent human ignore his superior
like that!? Breathe, breathe
, he told himself. The anger
subsided and David managed to maintain his polite expression, his
cool tone. “Thank you, sir, but we’re actually not selling
anything. We’re giving.”

Finally, the man looked up, probably because
David had said
we
and he was curious to see who else was
with him. He glanced at Lucas and Cassandra, who had caught up, his
gaze lingering on Cassandra, wandering up and down her curving
body. David thought the old pervert might actually lick his lips.
Instead, he said, “So you’re Jehovah’s Witnesses then? I’m still
not buyin’.”

“Wrong again, sir. We are here to present you
with a prize you have won.”

“I didn’t enter no contest,” the guy said
gruffly. Then, changing his tone, he said, “What prize?”

When he said it, David knew the man was as
good as theirs—a dead man walking. “Maybe your wife did,” David
said, taking a guess that the guy was married. “And it’s a cash
prize.”

Upon hearing the word cash, the man’s eyes
gleamed, but his mouth was still skeptical, cocked to the side like
he was chewing on the inside of his mouth. “How much cash?”