When he got out of work there was a limousine waiting. Who could afford a huge car like that, along with the uniformed driver in front. Surely not the store manager. Was someone visiting from headquarters? Was an eccentric billionaire shopping today? Simon grinned at the thought.
“Hey Simon, let me give you a ride home.”
His brain stopped working as he recognized Mr. Sharkes leaning out the rear window of the car.
“I … uh … no?”
He realized his voice reflected his certainty that it would not be that simple. The driver got out and opened the rear door on the other side for him. Still Simon hesitated.
Sharkes lowered his voice. “People are starting to stare. Just get in, willya? I promise this visit will be more pleasant than last time.”
Simon matched his tone. “I guess I’m being silly. If you wanted to kill me I’m sure you could find a quicker way than this.”
“Of course I could kid. And I wouldn’t put myself anywhere near the scene of the crime either. Get in already.”
Simon got into the car and belted himself in. He was amazed by the plush interior. Was that a wet bar?
The lawyer broke into his thoughts. “Of course it was convenient that you got into the car without making a fuss or attracting attention. And now that you’ve gotten into the car voluntarily I don’t have to get sweaty carrying the body around.”
The car was already moving too fast to jump out of. Simon’s jaw dropped open. He thought of saying that many witnesses had seen Sharkes pick him up, but his voice wouldn’t work. He wondered what they had noticed, what they would remember, what they would bother telling the cops. But he had to do something. If he could find a grassy area to jump out in and landed rolling, might he survive? Would someone call an ambulance?
“Relax kid, I was just joking.”
Unexpectedly, white hot anger filled him. “You don’t get to make fun of me for paranoia the day after you wrap your fingers around my throat. You want to kill me, just get it over with.”
Sharkes blinked. Then he said, “Simon, I think we got off on the wrong foot. I visited Adam and had him remove your sorcery. Then I tried to discuss the points you had made with him rationally. When he tried to do sorcery on me I had to punch him. I did nothing permanent since there’s a chance we’ll still need him.”
Simon’s eyes widened at the use of the word ‘we’ll.’
The lawyer continued, “So I tried to contact the elders and see if some of them really are on our side. I have a strange dream. So this guy in a phony Viking helmet tells me that I have no talent as a seer. Apparently it gives them a headache to try and communicate with me, and I have to go through you.”
Simon had finally found something he was good at, and it was probably going to get him killed. Plus he had to hear about it third hand.
“Now in one sense it occurs to me I made too big a deal about something. If someone was on the wrong side of a battle that was really important to me, something worse than having sorcery used on them might happen. On the other hand, it is never a good idea to do something like that to me. So instead of apologizing, I want to give you a small token of my esteem.”
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Simon blinked as Sharkey handed him a package, about the length and width of an eight by eleven piece of paper but much thicker, perhaps a couple of inches thick. It didn’t feel like a bomb, not nearly heavy enough. It looked like an ordinary manilla envelope packed very full.
“Now what I hope you will do tonight is this. Ask for details about the whole group of elders on Earth, and the key players in particular. Who is on which side and who can do what, and who is allied with who. Anything and everything.”
Simon was about to point out that Loki would only tell him what he wanted to, but Sharkes pointed, and with a start he realized they had arrived outside his building.
The other man said, “Since we have so much to talk about, and time may not be on our side, I hope you don’t mind if I pick you up here tomorrow morning at 7:30 AM. Don’t forget your package.”
The phrasing was polite, but something in the tone did not suggest he expected a refusal. Simon couldn’t think of a logical reason to refuse a free ride to work anyway.
When he got inside, curiosity drove him to open the package. He didn’t want to rip it open and spill whatever it was on the floor, so he put it on a little snack table, managed to find a scissors, and opened it carefully.
It was mostly filled with stacks of carefully flattened and rubber banded bills. Most of them were hundred dollar bills. There was also a ‘Re-elect Senator Mann’ T shirt. Sharkes had an odd sense of humor, but it also served as a reminder where the money had come from.
After counting a couple of packets and estimating the thickness of the rest, he calculated that there was about $19,700 in cash. Given the roughness of his methods, he guessed it was probably an even $20,000.
So he did his best to put the money back in exactly as it had been packed. It wasn’t easy, the packer was either methodical or experienced. Then he taped the envelope up again as best he could. He put it under his bed, which was no less safe than anywhere else in the house, and at least somewhere he would remember.
Then he spoke into the silence. “We want to know as much as we can about the members of the advance team of elders who is already here. All of them, and all the internal politics. I realize you might not feel like telling us all this, but we’re not quite sure who is on which side or who, if any, is totally on our side. You already know I’m able to say no, and that my partner Mr. Sharkes is not as yielding as I am.”
Simon wondered if he should add anything, but he couldn’t really think what. He wondered what if anything he might dream tonight.
Much to his relief he found himself on the park bench to Loki again. It was much lighter now, a sunny afternoon.
A young kid ran up and started mocking Loki’s horns. Casually Loki pointed a finger at him and spoke a word Simon could not quite make out. The child burst into flames and died screaming.
He stared in horror. Loki said, “You seem so surprised. Isn’t that the sort of being you think I am?”
In point of fact Simon wasn’t sure, but he was reminded that this was only a dream. He took a moment to calm down before replying, “It isn’t that. But correct me if I’m wrong. The trip to a world with no receiving portal is painful and dangerous. Idealism may be one of the reasons to undertake such a risk – but few would do so for that reason alone. There will be wealth, power, and prestige for all of you if this world is successfully opened to the Eightfold.”
Loki waved at the pile of ashes, made it vanish from their shared dream. Simon was glad when the smell went away. The godform said, “Well yes, but we’re risking more than you know. Elders can live for many eons under ideal circumstances, but they can also die in situations like this. And the technology we have to offer you really can improve your lives beyond your wildest dreams.”
Simon nodded. “So I gather. And yet, it can also destroy us. Factional rivalries which are channeled into ritual contests in older Eightfold worlds can become murderous gangs and wars here. Or was that my imagination – am I not really a seer?”
Loki sighed and nodded. “You are.”
“I believe you want to help us, but if the situation were reversed and the severely wounded were in your alliance and your faction, would you deny them and fight any attempt to speed up contact that might harm my species?”
Loki replied, “If it were myself I might seek for the courage. If it were those who trusted and relied on me? Perhaps not so much, but I would try and seek a balance.”
Simon had never had good social skills for ordinary situations, let alone dealing with an alien shaped like a god. Still he said, “So you won’t take offense if we hesitate to take your advice instantly and without question.”
Loki looked at him. “I won’t? Oh, good. I would feel sort of petty if I did.”