Wednesday, 04 July 2007

• Epilogue

  In Toronto, it was raining -- torrential downpour, and already talk of flooding. Adam darted under the overhang of a public library, ducking out of the driving rain, and tried shaking himself like a wet dog. It didn't have much effect. He brushed the water from his eyes (his ball cap hadn't been much help), then pulled open the library's front door, and made his way in.

  The librarian at the front desk considered him with barely concealed disgust. He noticed, but didn't blame her. He looked awful. Worse, even, than when he'd met with Josh in Georgia. It had been a long trip in only a few days, and he'd had to pull several tricks to get here. His racing thoughts skipped ahead to his intentions here, and he nodded. It would be worth it. Drops of water spattered the ancient carpet at the motion. He paid it no mind.

  Off to the left was the children's section. More contempt there, in the eyes of young mothers, but Adam ignored them, too. Just beyond the children's books, bright colors and goofy stuffed animals, stood a wall lined with doors that let into reading rooms. He knew which one he needed -- the second from the left.

  James was waiting inside, fancy in a dress suit. His appearance was manicured, managed, and the weasel look was nearly lost beneath the fancy haircut and fine attire. He was seated behind a plain, cheap table as though it were a fine mahogany desk. He had that air about him. Adam had noticed that even over the phone.

  "Adam!" he said, and his excitement quickly melted into that same disgust. "Ugh. You look like hell."

  Adam shrugged. "I don't know if you've noticed," he said, "but Hell isn't far off."

  James considered him for a moment. "So," he said, "why the cloak and dagger stuff? Why'd you want to meet here, instead of in my office?"

  "I wanted to be able to speak freely," Adam said. "I'm here to talk to you about everything that's going on." He hit James with a meaningful look. "Everything. And your part in it."
  

  James grinned. "Yeah," he said. "Yeah, you said you were on to me, huh?" He nodded to a kid-sized chair across the table from him. "Have a seat."

  "Thanks, I'll stand."

  James shrugged. "Fair enough," he said. "What did you want to talk about?"

  There was a big map spread out on the table in front of James, but upside down -- clearly there for Adam's benefit. It was of the United States and Canada, but it had the look of a medieval map of Europe. Adam recognized the style, but it was more than that. The land was divided up into kingdoms and duchies, territories that had the feel of the Old World to them. Adam pointed to the map, "Really, I'm here about that."

  James grinned. "It's working, Adam. Just like you said it would. Everything is falling into place."

  Adam shook his head. "I never said anything about this--"

  James shrugged, but his grin only grew wider. "Nonsense. I'm making a new world here. I'm changing the whole history of the world. You taught me about that. Remember? You said that four hundred years ago, the world was six thousand years old. Then the scientists got together and destroyed the world of the Hebrew bible, remade it, so that today, four hundred years later, the world is four-point-five billion years old. It's the same thing as that."

  "That's not how it works, James. Social Constructionism..." He winced.  He didn't like to admit this. "It's about perception. It's about behavior. It's not really magic, it just behaves like magic."

  James laughed at that. "A year ago, you could have told me that and I'd have believed you. Hell, a year ago, I was probably arguing exactly that." He shook his head. "You showed me different, though. Look!" He waved at the map, waved at the walls to indicate the world without. "I've done it. You always said that the thing that killed the old magics was people's comfortable acceptance of an ordered world."

  He leaned forward, frighteningly intense. "I've broken that. How many times did you explain that that was what it would take? 'Somehow, we'd have to make everyone lose faith in the world as they know it.' That's the first ingredient in making a new world."

  Adam stared. "So, you're taking credit for all of this?"

  James nodded, enthusiastic. "Sure," he said. "I mean, by all means, if you want your share, I'll certainly give it to you. You've earned it. You taught me everything I know."

  "No," Adam said. He wanted to shout, but then, it was a library. He didn't want to attract attention to this meeting. "For the love of God, James, no. This is not the behavior of a sane man."

  James waved that away with a casual gesture. "Sanity is going along with the socially constructed world as it is. Screw that. Insanity is magic. If you can get others to believe it, it becomes sorcery." He frowned. "You know all this. Why are you making me say it?"

  Adam shook his head. He turned his back on James. "It's ideas. It's philosophy. You're not supposed to apply it like this--"

  "Damnation, Adam, this is the only way it can be applied. You've known that from the start. Without shaking things up, we can't really do anything. Without breaking the existing order, it's all just talk."

  "'Shaking things up,' James? That's what you call this? Millions are probably dead by now." He turned back, to meet James's eyes. "How much of that did you really influence?"

  James's eyes went blank, as he tried to recall. After a moment, he started nodding. "I didn't create Phillip Al-Jabi, or his little joke. I read Arlin's story in the paper just like everybody else." He stopped, and then laughed. "You know," he said, "I did get his book published. I mean, I wasn't working on the project at the time, not deliberately, but I talked to the guy at Doubleday about his a week or two before he submitted the manuscript, and that's the main reason they picked up his book." He smiled, reminiscing. "Wow...."

  A moment later, he focused on Adam again. "After the last election, when they used the assassination and fear mongering to get another one of their guys into the White House, I thought it was time. So I started pulling strings and making speaking engagements, and the more work I put into it, the easier everything seemed." He spread his hands out before him, "And here we are today." He looked to Adam, as if he was expecting some words of approval.

  "James," he said, "do you realize what you're saying? Do you have any idea?" He stopped short. "Why Beth?"

  "Ah, Beth," the same wistful tone in his voice. Then he met Adam's eyes and frowned, shook his head. "She wasn't right for you, Adam. She was too simple. Too easy."

  "She was kind. She was perfect. She was happy." James didn't notice the animal growl in Adam's voice.

  "Beth was stupid, and you know it." He shrugged. "Most happy people are, I guess. She was too easy to manipulate, though. She's always hated me, so when I started saying out loud that Hiz'ammat was a wicked, dangerous cult, she immediately believed the opposite, and began researching them with such a sympathetic heart." He laughed. "She got me the contact information for everyone I needed to know. She showed me examples of the good and kind people, and how all they wanted was a place of their own, and she showed me how the wicked and cruel and dangerous people were just rare exceptions." He grinned. "And she got me their names. It was beautiful."

  Adam said, "And Josh? Dammit, James, I thought you liked Josh."

  James nodded. "I did. But he made himself a sheep. He believed in the old system so much, I couldn't have ever brought him to our side." He sighed. "There was a power there, though. Things...happen around him."

  "You'd be surprised," Adam said.

  Something in his voice caught James's attention, and James said, "He's not one of us?"

  Adam rolled his eyes. "Yes, he's one of us. Everyone's one of us, James. We're not super heroes or secret wizards--"

  "Oh, we are." James grinned. "We're becoming them, anyway. This boring old world is yesterday's news. But, you know what I mean. Maybe everybody can do what we do, but most people don't. Most people want to be sheep until the day they die."

  "Well, Josh is a wolf. He wouldn't believe it himself, but he's a powerful one. And right now he's pulling the fangs on your pet beast."

  James looked flat astonished at that, his eyes wide. "I never imagined." He shook his head. "No matter," he said. "There are more where that came from. At this point, I could raise up a new army like that!" He snapped his fingers. "And, hell, with you here, maybe we can bring Josh in line after all. If he's turned himself into a hero, so much the better."

  "I'm not going to help you, James. What you're doing is evil."

  James laughed at that. "Evil, Adam? Really? You're the one who taught me just how fluid that word is." He shook his head. "Yes," he said. "Yes, these last few weeks have been ugly. We've made some sacrifices. All of us had to make some sacrifices. But that is the price of change. It's not my fault it took such a dramatic step to fix things. Blame it on Science, the cannibal magic. Blames it on capitalism or consumerism or humanism, but for whatever reason, this whole world had become so abominably and uniformly petty, that it had to be shaken up."

  He leaned back. "None of it is real anyway." A shiver went down Adam's spine at that, but James pressed right on. "None of this is real. And it's less real today than it was a week ago. I'm undoing that boring world, to create us one right out of fantasy. We'll have our old magics again, Adam. We'll have myth and legend. Two weeks from now, no one will remember the world that was, or the birth pangs necessary to make the new one."

  Adam said, "You're shrugging off the deaths of millions. Human lives are real, James, no matter what else you may believe. You've killed enough men to label you a monster in any world."

  James shrugged. "You've got to break some omelets to make an egg." He grinned at that. "Adam, Adam, Adam. Chum. Calm down! I understand you're upset. I'm sorry about Beth, okay? I said it. I'm sorry I gave Josh a bad reputation. It worked so well, though! Can't you see? This was all just theory a couple years ago. I didn't even really believe you. But it's working! Look around you! I'm making a brand new world, just like we always talked about."

  He nodded, shrugged. "I get it," he said. "I had to get my hands dirty. That was the cost of things, and yes, it has been more...unpleasant, than I really expected. But that's done, now. That's almost done. One more big push, one dramatic event, and we can shatter what left of the old reality. Everyone, world 'round, will lose their grasp on it, so shaken by the nightmare their world has become. And in that moment, the universe will be so soft even a child could shape it."

  Adam sighed. "A child would not do the things you have done."

  James shook his head. He looked proud of himself. "A child couldn't dream as I have. It will be glorious, friend. Do you want to ride a gryphon? Do you want to face a dragon? We can make the world whatever we want it to be." He met Adam's eyes. "I know, I know, you're here to confront me about this, but don't." He pulled out a walkie talkie from his pocket, one of the toys you buy for five dollars at Wal-Mart. It was neon green. "With a push of this button I can call an army of secret service guys to defend me."

  Immediately, he looked like he regretted saying that. He grimaced. "Not that that matters," he said. "Adam, I know you once talked about power, about magic, but now I'm the one who has it. With what you know, you could probably be a worthy adversary. But you'd be an even more valuable ally." He leaned across the table. "I know you would never do what I have done, because you're too...good. But it's done now, okay? Get over it. It's done, and the world is ready to be remade. Take a place by my side. I'll make you a god-emperor too. Gladly."

  He leaned back, waved a hand over the map on the desk, "Or you could be king. You could be king of the world, if you wanted." He smiled. "I'm really starting to enjoy this power-behind-the-power gig. It's way more fun than I would have thought."

  Adam met James's eyes. "You're a cancer, James." He shook his head. "I gave you a glimpse into how reality works, and you twisted it into a nightmare." He sighed. James furrowed his brow, uncomprehending. Adam took a step forward, reaching out a hand toward James, and in that moment James's frown turned into a smile. He half rose from his chair, glad he'd convinced Adam to change his mind, and stretched out a hand to shake....

  And then he noticed the gun. Adam understood myth and symbols, and he believed in the sure power of faith, but he understood cold reality, too. He raised the gun and fired twice, and both bullets caught James square in the torso. He fell back into his chair, eyes wide, agape. Adam leaned close, "I'm sorry, James. I don't dare allow you to shape the world I'm going to live in." He heard the shouts and screams in the library outside. He ignored them, focused so intently on James's eyes.

  James raised the walkie talkie again, but Adam flicked the gun and knocked it out of his hands. James coughed, then said, "Don't do this Adam. I'm so close." He gasped for air. "Tomorrow, I could have the world of my dreams."

  Adam said nothing. He took one step away, then raised the gun six inches higher and put an end to James's machinations forever.

  And though there comes a time when heroes rise again, when kings wake from their slumber and legends become real, even in those times life is not a fairy tale. With three shots in the beast, the world would no longer warp under Jeremiah Payne's twisted magic, but the terrors he had wrought weren't instantly cured.

  America's glorious Golden Age was done, shattered, and by that point all the world was in chaos. It would take new heroes, men and women of greatness, to decide the future for the world. It was, as James had said, soft. Malleable. The future would be shaped by those strong enough to impose sheer will on chaos, and from it make a world.

  Adam had faith that they could make it a better world than James would have. Maybe even a better world than it had been before. Certainly less boring. It would require heroes, but he knew there were heroes out there, even in this quiet time.

  In that day, Josh had played his part, and Adam his. Sarah's, though, was just beginning.

   

  THE END.

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