Titans of Chaos

I looked left and right. Bare walls. Loading dock with empty trucks. Behind me was a space filledwith a diesel engine, calmly purring. I ran the few yards, down a set of metal stairs, and easedopen a rear door leading to the loading bay. Outside was a short alley leading to a nighttimestreet, neon-lit. There were people on it, couples walking, perhaps headed to the club just downthe way. No one stopping to turn and look toward the store.

I opened up eyes in the fourth dimension. There was a blaze of utility from the music section of thestore overhead, but now I saw it was not useful to me or Colin; the supply of instruments was veryuseful to someone else.

That same light sent out a streamer of moral obligation like a spiderweb. I traced the strands.

One bundle went toward Deimos, who was sitting in a glassed-in office high above a dancing floorof many dazzling lights. He had his harpoon in his hand, facing the direction of the store, as if theintervening walls and buildings were no barrier to his dread weapon. The threads there ran fromhim to Archer, who was on the street between the store and the club. Deimos was acting as asniper, a friendly one, ready to strike down anyone who threatened his brother. Had he beenwatching the whole exchange between me and Archer? Probably not, or Vanity would havesensed his eyesight. No-something had startled him into a warlike stance, a warning that his oathto protect his brother was about to be challenged.

I saw a second bundle leaving him and leading back to me. He had made a promise to me to showmy card to Archer. It was a dim connection, but enough that Deimos could sense a threat to me aswell. If I were killed, he could not keep his promise.

I am lucky Deimos had made that promise, because I could see through his tangle of moralconnections something I could not see radiating from myself.

A final bundle had reached down from a point immensely remote in space, right to my position,glowing, shivering, and crawling with motes and flickers of communication-purpose. It was as ifthe line was shouting to someone, HERE! SHE IS HERE!

"Damn!" I breathed.

Wives of the Psychopomp

"Do you see anyone?" asked Vanity over the phone.

"The money. I spent the money..."