Gregg Loomis - Gates Of Hades

"Who that?" she asked.

A man in a suit stepped into view. The light from outside was in her eyes, so she saw no more than a silhouette. "Your children will be my personal guests until you're up and around."

He moved and Shirlee thought she was seein' things, sure. She was lookin' into the smilin' face of the president hisse'f.

"You're a very brave woman, Ms. Atkins. Without you, there'd be some children without their fathers tonight."

It was then that Shirlee realized it hadn't been the sun bliridin' her; it was lights around a man holdin' a camera. Shit! Her one time on TV an' she gotta look like hell.

The president leaned over, taking one of her hands in both of his. "Your children will be well cared for. It's been since when, Jimmy Carter, that there was a small child in the White House? When you get out of the hospital, You'll come for dinner?"

At first Shirlee thought he wanted her to serve dinner. Then she realized he meant as a guest.

She'd be goin' to eat with th' Man hisse'f! Weren't that sumthin'? He wasn't foolin' her none. She knew he'd have his pitcher taken with her, meybbe get a few more black votes, but she didn' much care. Her babies were gonna have somethin' they'd talk 'bout rest of they lives.

And Shirlee?

Well, the folks down to the projects where she used to live would see she really had gone a long way, wouldn't they?

Silanus, Sardinia

1521 hours

Stripped of their weapons, Jason and Adrian had been shoved into chairs, where they were watched by two of the men standing just out of reach. Maria was allowed slightly more freedom, although confined to the room. Jason had the impression they were waiting for something. His only guess was nightfall, when Eglov would kill them and leave in the dark, unseen by any passing neighbors.

"I am hungry," Maria announced. "Anyone besides me want something to eat?"

If food wasn't the last thing on Jason's mind, it was close to it.

Eglov nodded for one of the rifle-carrying men to accompany her to the kitchen. "Enjoy your meal; eat well." He smiled cruelly. "It will be your last opportunity."

"Tell me," Jason asked, "how did you get out of the tunnel at Baia?"

"Do you think there was but one entrance, Mr. Peters?" Eglov pointed to the still-unfinished condensed version of Eno's book, faceup on the couch where Jason had tossed it minutes ago. "Even your magazine there recounts a final exit out of the Netherworld before the descent into Hades."

More to start a conversation than out of curiosity, Jason asked, "Why go to the trouble of taking that ethylene rock all the way to the United States to be set off by the self- igniting bushes? Wouldn't it have been easier just to carry a bomb into the conference?"

The Russian frowned. "This was special. Think of the reaction of your countrymen when your president and his fellow despoilers of the Earth have their throats cut while the true friends of the Earth live. The knives for the job will be dropped into the special hiding places my men have created in the last few weeks, the same places in which they will rest until needed. No one other than a designated pair will even know what happened. No weapons, no one enters or leaves the room. Only the Breath of the Earth. It will be seen to the true lovers of our world as a miracle, the poor Earth striking back on its own."

It would be a display of insanity, Jason thought, but he said, "Why kill the president, anyway? He was willing to grant you and your radical environmentalist pals some sort of a pardon for the crimes they committed."

Eglov spit. "Forgiveness is not his to give; it is the Earth's alone! Pardon by the great rapist of the resources that belong to all?" He spit again. "As long as your country and the other greedy industrialist democracies exist, there will be no peace, no peace until their sins are paid for and the planet allowed to rest without being ravaged."

A second Dark Ages. Comforting thought.

It was difficult to carry on a conversation with someone who spoke in slogans. Still, it was important to conduct a discourse, anything to take the fanatic's mind off killing them, if even for a moment. Jason wondered what would happen if Eglov found out the details of the gas plot had already been given to Washington.

"Exactly how will you prevent your own people at the conference from falling asleep?"

Eglov smiled, proud of his ingenuity. "Two will have medicinal oxygen tanks for lung disease. They will do the Earth's work while the others are unconscious."

Jason was about to say something else when he heard water running in the kitchen.

"I thought the generator was off," he said.

"Doesn't run the water," Adrian explained. "There's an artesian well up on the hill, feeds water down a pipe by gravity."

Maria came in from the kitchen, carrying a platter of sliced bread, sausage, and cheese. She placed it on the table and returned for a pitcher of water.

"Would you like some?" she asked Eglov.

He scowled. "Eat sausage that contains meat, steal nourishment from the death of defenseless animals?" He looked slightly ill at the thought. "No."

Jason got up slowly and went to the table as Maria continued in the same tone she might have used had their captors been invited houseguests. "You will have some cheese, then? I expect when the police arrive, you will not get a chance to eat again for quite a while."

What the hell was she doing, trying to get them killed ahead of time? Jason's eyes met Adrian's and then looked away.

"Police?" Eglov scoffed. "Do not make yourself look foolish!"

She shrugged. "Your disbelief does not change the facts. We were to meet them here."

In one step the Russian was beside her. He gave her face a slap that could be heard across the room. She staggered backward and almost fell. Jason lunged forward, only to be prodded in the chest by one of the other men's AK-47.

"Stupid cow!" Eglov snarled. "You think I would believe such a childish trick? The police will arrive only to find your bodies."

She wiped a hand across her mouth. "Stupid or not, they are coming."

She was staring at Jason.

He had no idea what she was talking about, but he had to assume she had done something in the kitchen.

Then it hit him. As a volcanologist, she would be familiar with gases other than the ethylene. He had an idea what was coming.

He nodded imperceptibly at Adrian. "She's right, Eglov. The place will be swarming with cops anytime now."

Adrian's expression turned from bewildered to knowing. He gingerly got out of his chair and, back to the empty fireplace, inspected the food selection. Without looking at Jason, he shrugged, then put a finger to his temple. The two gestures meant something akin to, I'm not sure what you mean but I understand, the silent signs that acknowledged that action of some unknown type was at hand.

There was an explosion in the kitchen, followed by what could have been gunshots.

"In here!" Maria yelled. "We are here!"

The two armed men reacted by swiveling around to point their weapons at the anticipated incursion of gun-wielding police. The distraction lasted only a second at most.

But it was enough.

Leaning backward, Adrian reached behind his head and brought both hands down with the claymore, the huge two-handed sword that hung over the mantel. So swift was the blow, the light gleaming from the hand-forged steel appeared as a single arc. A fraction of a second too late, the closest man swung his AK-47 to bear, only to have the blade sever his shoulder from his body. Arm and weapon clattered to the floor in a geyser of blood.

Jason ducked under the barrel of another rifle whipping back toward him, his shoulder throwing the muzzle upward as a burst of shots plowed into the ceiling. There was a downpour of plaster dust. Jason grabbed for the armed man's gun as the other hand stretched for the gunman's throat.