“You’re not a parent. Don’t tell me how to raise my family.”
“I don’t know if she has Electra complex or Oedipus complex or diaper rash, but she really wants you dead. You need to get her some Prozac.”
We walk all the way around the roof. The sky remains a solid mass of smoke. Earthquakes rumble on the horizon.
“I knew that Lucifer was a troublemaker, but I also knew he’d grown out of it. But I never saw this coming with Aelita. I’ve tried talking to her, but she might be a lost cause.”
“You could always kill me. That’s what she really wants.”
“Don’t think I haven’t considered it. And that’s not what she wants. You’re just a symptom of what she sees as a larger condition.”
“Sounds like she’s gone Gnostic on you and thinks Daddy’s the demiurge, too.”
He turns and looks me in the eye.
“Who the hell are you to talk about misbehaving kids? Your whole life has been about breaking things. You’re not a dumb kid. Why do you go looking for trouble?”
“ ’Cause one of your angels ruined my mother and father’s lives and made me an Abomination. When I finally found my real father, he told me that all I was and ever will be is a killer. Not exactly Leave It to Beaver, is it?”
“We’ve all got our troubles. Look at this mess.”
Neshamah leans his elbows on the low wall. I do the same.
“Some of those old Greeks thought that the world couldn’t be such a cruel mess without it being on purpose. They said that who or whatever made it deep down inside had to be evil.”
“What do you think?” he asks.
I feel in my pocket for a cigarette my brain knows isn’t there, but my body has to check for it anyway. I flex my new hand and run it over the concrete, feeling the rough surface.
I say, “I’m not a hundred percent either way. But off the top of my head, I don’t really think you’re evil. Just out of your depth. Or like a kid who gets a note on his report card. ‘If Chet applied himself, I’m sure he could do better in class.’ ”
“Funny, that’s how we feel about you.”
“I’m a nephilim and a killer. Do you think I’m evil?”
“I’m not a hundred percent either way. Besides, there are worse things to be than a killer.”
“What about ‘Thou shall not kill’?”
“What about the Egyptian army Moses drowned when he closed the Red Sea on them? Do you think he could have turned them around with a few kind words? Do you think I could do that here?” He points to the city below. “Do you want to know the difference between a killer and a murderer?”
“Sure.”
“It’s where you aim the gun.”
That sounds more like the Old Testament guy I was looking for.
“Well, chatting has been a little slice of heaven,” I say, “but I have to figure out how to get up that hill so I can do a couple of miracles and save the universe. You wouldn’t be in the mood to help or anything?”
He looks into the distance and smiles.
“I think you have it in hand.”
“Was that a fucking joke?”
“Sorry. I couldn’t resist.”
I take a couple of steps to go when I hear him clear his throat.
“I think you have something of mine.”
“Oh, right.”
I walk over and give him the crystal.
“Muninn says that’s your insurance policy. If everything ends, you can start over again.”
“Is that what he told you? The truth is no one knows what it will be, but something is better than nothing.”
“You and Muninn, it’s like Jesus and Lucifer, isn’t it? One’s all heart and one’s all head.”
He puts the crystal in a pocket of his red waistcoat. It’s a tight fit.
“He’s the youngest. I’m the oldest. You do the math.”
“What happens if Aelita kills one of you?”
He leans over the wall and looks down at the street.
“See that manhole down there? I have a feeling if you went down inside and walked exactly three hundred and thirty-three paces west, you’ll find where you want to go.”
“Seriously? Why that number?”
