The Sandman Slim Series Books 1-4. Richard Kadrey

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СКАЧАТЬ I can do that for you right now.”

      “Yeah, but when Kinski cuts me, he won’t have a hard-on while he’s doing it.”

      “You dare speak to an angel of the Lord that way?”

      “If I hurt your feelings, get God down here so I can tell Him to His face.”

      “Maybe you are worse than Kinski.”

      “You’re the most useless thing I’ve ever met. Even the worst Hellion has a purpose. What’s yours? You can’t keep a treaty from falling apart that might destroy the world. You don’t even go after Mason. Why is that?”

      “Don’t you dare interrogate me. We’ve been looking for Mason for many years.”

      “But that’s not the same as finding him, is it? I mean, the way no one seems to be dealing with the guy makes me wonder if there isn’t something else going on.”

      “We are agents of Heaven and do its bidding.”

      “And while you do, you let Parker roam around free, slaughtering people, hoping he’ll lead you back to the big boy. How many people has Parker killed in the last eleven years and you didn’t do anything about it?”

      “You’re suddenly so concerned about death? People die around you every day and you barely seem to notice. What does that make you?”

      “Fuck you, angel. Fuck you and all God’s little prison bitches. He slips you some cigarettes and a con job smile and you run off to do his dirty work for him. Go and scare some sinners. No one’s listening to you here.”

      I can’t read an angel the way I can a human, but I can read a fighter’s body. Aelita shifts slightly, sliding one foot back a few millimeters at a time, letting her weight settle on her back leg.

      “God can still save you, Abomination. He can’t change the vile thing you are, but through me he can save you from perdition.”

      “If it’s all the same to you, I’d rather go to Hell.”

      “So be it.”

      Aelita must have been holding back yesterday. She manifests her flaming sword incredibly fast and shoots forward like a bullet. Thing is, I’m pretty fast, too. Especially when I know what an opponent is going to do. Before she charges me, I already have the na’at out, extended, and I’m sidestepping her. When she blasts forward at me, she also impales herself on one side of the na’at, like she’s run onto the cutting edge of a chain saw.

      Aelita freezes for a second, stunned to find her angelic body sliced through. That gives me a chance to give the na’at a slight turn so that the barbs lock into her. She lets out a monstrous roar, something to rattle Heaven’s gates. Buildings shudder and car alarms go off. I can’t let go of the na’at to cover my ears. Her scream is like a vise crushing my skull.

      She swings her sword at my head and tries to move forward, but she’s stuck on the na’at. I push a stud in the handle and step back, locking her in place while extending the na’at so her sword can’t reach me.

      Aelita is strong. She lunges at me, but each time she moves she just drives the na’at’s razor edge deeper into her body. She stops moving and stands there bleeding. Turning pale. After a few minutes, her sword dims and flickers out. She refuses to fall. She won’t submit to an Abomination. If I didn’t hate her so much already, I’d probably like her.

      Then she crumbles all at once. Like someone pulled the plug and shut her down. When she’s flat on her back, I turn the na’at to release the barbs, pull it from her chest, and retract it.

      Slipping it back inside my jacket, I go over to have a look at her. Her eyes are open, and even though she’s looking up, I know she’s not looking at the sky. She’s looking a lot farther away than that. I wonder what she sees.

      “You’ll suffer for this, Abomination. Do you know that? God sees everything and He sees you.”

      “Does He see you? I have an idea. Call God to come down and save you.” I look up at the sky with her. “Nothing.” I look down again and shrug. “I guess you’re expendable, too.”

      “I hate you more than anything I’ve ever seen or known.”

      “There we go. The truth. You hate me. Not for God’s sake, but for yours. Feels good, doesn’t it? Feels human.”

      I wonder if an angel can die the way humans do. I wonder what happens to their bodies. Does their spirit go back to Heaven or Hell or do they just evaporate?

      I kneel by Aelita’s head. She looks up at me, sort of blank.

      “I’ve been thinking about it. Remember when I asked you why God left me in Hell and you said that He probably thought I was where I should be? Maybe He thought I should be here today. To face you down in this alley. Maybe He wants me to finish what I came here for, only to do that, I had to get past you first. It’s something for both of us to think about.”

      Aelita straightens out her arm and tries to manifest her sword. A fighter to the end. Maybe I do like her a little after all. No. I don’t.

      I don’t really believe that angels can die the way we do. And God wouldn’t let an important one like Aelita go so easily. Wells and his Golden Vigil buddies and half of Homeland Security are probably on their way over right now. Time for me to find a cleaners, buy some clothes, and generally, not be here.

      THERE’S ONE GOOD way to always get what you want from someone who doesn’t necessarily want to sell you something. Pay in advance and pay too much. When you’re dropping off a coat covered in blood and plaster dust, it’s no time to cheap out. The old lady behind the dry-cleaning counter gives me a I-might-call-the-cops look over the tops of her glasses. I slip her one of Muninn’s hundred-dollar bills, and just like that, all is forgiven. The coat will be ready later tonight. Civilians really need to remember this. Cash is the magic that anyone can do.

      Where did all the Kissi go? The streets were lousy with them yesterday and now they’re as gone as a Friday blockbuster with a bad weekend gross.

      What the hell is wrong with L.A.? Full of magicians, alchemists, bloodsuckers, soul suckers, the Golden Vigil, and federally funded angels, and no one’s been able to touch Mason? That doesn’t make any sense. It stinks of protection. It smells like a conspiracy, but I don’t believe in conspiracies. Guys will say anything to get laid. If some CIA guy thought he could get a little action by showing a coed how he was the guy on the Grassy Knoll, he’d do it and we’d all know about it by now. But if there’s no conspiracy, what does that mean? Maybe there’s an ass-hole A-list that no one told me about. Shake hands with the forces of darkness and get a gift bag from Neiman Marcus and a free pass on murder and apocalyptic power plays.

      Is Mason bulletproof because he’s tight with the Kissi? Is everyone really that afraid? What did he have to do to cozy up to that celestial vermin anyway? What did he have to steal? Who did he have to kill? What Lovecraftian sewer slug did he have to blow to get up close and personal with God’s bastard kids?

      I don’t believe in conspiracies, but I do believe in bullshit and I believe I’m up to my balls in it right now.

      I throw the Veritas and it comes up showing a tangle of what looks almost like barbed wire. СКАЧАТЬ