'Kill
'
I gave her credit for not laughing out loud. When I didn't answer, she said nothing for a long time. Convinced that she had hung up, I softly muttered a 'damn' and lowered the receiver.
'Dell,' said a small voice in my hand.
I raised the horn to my ear. 'Yeah?'
'I told you that if you ever needed help, I'd do all I could.'
'You will?' It was my turn for incredulity.
'I can't stay on the phone much longer-'
'Meet me at Auberge tonight.' My heart pounded faster than the old thing had a right to. 'Cocktail lounge of the Hope and Anchor. At eight.'
'Right.' She hung up without a good-bye.
'I'll be damned.' The realization that I might very well be seemed less painful now. Blasphemy loves company.
On the lower levels of Auberge, guards handled trouble from the riffraff. On the upper levels, the guards served the same approximate purpose. The riffraff, however, seldom hung around-the prices were too high. I was reminded of this as I gave the waitress several scraps of orange paper to ransom my drink.
My watch read 8:13. I was beginning to feel like a jerk. Maybe she was the sort who would say anything to get a crank off the line. Maybe I was still dying from the cancer and hallucinating everything.
And I was only on my second drink.
A short time later, Ann showed up carrying a fat grey attache case. She saw me stand and came to the table.
'Sorry I'm late. I had to get this from Archives.' She set the luggage against the side of her chair and sat down.
'What is it?'
'The corporation's library. In case you need to do research.'
'I've got a plaque,' I said.
'Do you want your information requests going through the library satellites? The airwaves aren't necessarily secure, you know.'
The waitress drifted by again. Ann ordered tequila, Kahlua and milk-a Tall White Bull.
'You're taking this pretty seriously,' I said.
'I'm an accountant-paranoia is an occupational requirement.' She looked directly at me. 'You want to find god. You might as well start by telling me what kind of god. Define him.'
I hadn't considered that there might be more than one kind of God. 'The usual run-of-the-mill God. Miracle maker. Controller of lives. Watcher over us all.'
'Is this god-the one you've been hired to kill-is he different from man?' She frowned at her own question. 'Excuse me for sounding like a prosecutor. I'm just trying to help.'
'Sure. No problem.' I took a drink. 'Sure He's different. More powerful. More knowledgeable.'
'The difference, though-is it one of kind or degree?'
'Huh?' She'd just gone beyond the limits of my self-education.
'Is this god a more powerful and intelligent
