Lucifer's Lottery - Edward Lee [73]
“But I’m a Troll. I don’t even have a spirit.”
“That’s hardly the point.”
“I don’t know anything about your information source. Sorry, but that gives me the heebie-jeebies.”
A humming pause. “Surely you don’t think I’m lying to you—”
“No,” Krilid blurted. “But maybe they’re lying to you. Come on, I hear stories every day about Lucifer’s counterintel systems. He’s got whole complexes of Wizards and Channelers filling the Hell-Flux with phony transmissions. How do you know—”
“How do I know I haven’t been duped myself by such a trick?” the Fallen Angel challenged. “Hear me. I know because God told me.”
Krilid was hard-pressed not to laugh. “Oh, God did, huh? God—what?—he called you up on a hectophone personally and told you the intel was on the level?”
“He did it spiritually, Krilid. Calm your worries—believe me, I understand them—”
“You want to know the truth, Ezoriel? Half the time I feel like I’m on a suicide mission. Otherwise there’d be a hundred more insurgents in the Nectoport with me. For a mission like this? But, no, just little old me and no one else. Almost like someone said, ‘Well, if the intel turns out to be bad, then it’s better to lose just one guy than a whole company.’ ”
When Ezoriel laughed, there came a sensation like one’s reaction to sudden lightning.
“It’s not that funny—”
“Krilid, please. You worry too much. Best to think only of God’s glory and the entails of your mission. You’re in God’s hands; therefore . . . you’ll do fine.”
Yeah . . .
“So your reconnaissance at the Reservoir went well,” the higher being said rather than asked.
“Sure. I mean, I found the landmark and the pickup point. But the Reservoir’s still empty. Once it’s filled, it’ll be harder to relocate the extraction point—”
“Just use your sextant, and you’ll have no trouble—”
More gripes came to the Troll. “And I don’t know when they’re going to fill it, or with what. I feel like I’m standing at home plate in a headball game but I’m blindfolded . . .”
More illuminating chuckles issued from the Fallen Angel. “I’m happy to impart to you, Krilid, that I have been permitted to answer those questions now, as your particular need to know has been sparked.”
Krilid sat up stiff, keenly and suddenly attentive.
Ezoriel’s voice seemed to lower to a glittering whisper. “The time will be very soon. And just exactly what the massive Reservoir will be filled with . . . is this: six billion gallons of the Gulf of Cagliostro . . .”
“What!”
“It’s true,” Ezoriel said. “That Pipeway is impressive—hundreds of miles long and quite a feat for Lucifer’s Engineers. Oh, we might’ve been able to bomb it but then . . .” The refulgent Angel seemed to smile. “Powers far more lofty than I insisted that that not happen . . .”
Krilid refrained from sarcastic comment.
“All things for a purpose, yes? It’s all part of God’s plan, and we are tiny yet essential pieces of that plan. Expendable? Yes. But loved by God as well, even in our Damnation.”
Oh, that makes me feel MUCH better, Krilid’s thoughts sputtered.
“Have faith, in this place of the faithless.”
“Fine, fine,” Krilid interjected, “but . . . why does Lucifer want to fill that ridiculous Reservoir with six billion gallons of disgusting Bloodwater from the Gulf?”
Ezoriel’s undetectable gaze fixed on Krilid.
“All right, I get it,” Krilid droned. “I don’t have a need to know yet. You’re afraid if I get captured, I’ll spill the beans.”
The illumined presence seemed to nod. “God’s work calls me to depart. The coordinates for your next reconnaissance will be delivered telepathically very soon.” The Angel raised a finger. “Rest assured that, just as Daniel had no fear of the lion’s pit, you need not have fear of what awaits you.” Ezoriel passed Krilid a small cloth sack. “Until we meet again . . . go with God.” And then—
Sssssssssssssssss-ONK!
—the Fallen Angel’s Nectoport was gone.
Krilid opened the sack and withdrew—
“Oh, wow! What a great guy!”
—a big chunk of Ghor-Hound sausage.
(II)
What an ass I am, Gerold thought. A male intern who looked