The Jehovah Contract

'Yahweh. Adonai. El Elion.'

'Check.'

'The Lord. The Infinite Spirit. The-'

'All right!' I shouted. 'I understand.

Kapish

.

Comprendo

. You want me to bump off the Big One!'

'Uh-no, not really,' he said quickly. 'Well, yes.'

'Zack-I don't believe in God.'

'You don't have to. Just assassinate Him.'

'You

have

flipped out.'

'I have not. He exists just as surely as I do. He threatens my control of this spiritual plane. Kill Him.'

I lit another coffin nail, whiffing the smoke carefully to make sure I hadn't been slipped anything funny. The chair creaked as I leaned back in it. 'Okay. If I buy the premise, I buy the bit. Say He does exist. What happens if I kill Him?'

'You shall have eternal life. As long as you wish. Youth, health, vigor-'

'I've heard about your tricks. You'd welch somehow. Turn me into a young, healthy, vigorous grasshopper or something.'

'No monkey's paws, Mr. Ammo. I promise you.'

I had to laugh. 'Why should I trust you? Aren't you called the Prince of Lies?'

It was his turn to laugh. 'You listen too much to my detractors. Propaganda always paints the enemy as a hideous monster while whitewashing the favored side. I could tell you stories about the last few Creations that would make your hair sizzle.'

I poured a final trickle of whiskey from the sack in the drawer, took a deep sip, and considered.

The whole thing stank. He could simply be an agent involved in some intricate scheme that included faked medical reports, mimetic drugs, spying, squealing-and a hell of a lot of gall.

'I doubt that there's anything you can do to convince me that any of this is real. But let's assume it is. What happens if I don't agree to kill Him?'

He stared at me coolly. 'You'll be very painfully dead within three months.'

'I could always kill myself before then.'

'In the opinion of some theologians, that would send you right to me.'

'Would it?'

He smiled and tapped his cane against the floor. 'Far be it from me to disparage any religion. I'm the Prince of Lies, aren't I?'

I stood and rammed my fists against the desktop. 'Listen, Zacharias, you're the one who doesn't want to play head games. Here it is straight. First you have a nervous breakdown on TV and declare yourself Earth's master. Then you come to me and tell me to kill God. You don't even

ask

. It's practically an order. You-or someone-is playing poison with my body. You know damn well that I want to live, so you threaten me with death. You want me to kill something I don't even believe exists. As far as I'm