Looking at frosted-glass angels, plastic angels, carved-wood angels, painted-tin angels, while at the same time talking to a maybe-for-real angel on the telephone, Fric said, ?How can I ever find a safe place if Moloch can travel by mirrors and moonlight??
?He can?t,? said Mysterious Caller. ?He doesn?t have my powers, Aelfric. He?s mortal. But don?t think being mortal makes him less dangerous. A demon would be no worse than him.?
[309] ?Why don?t you come here and wait with me till he shows up, and then beat the crap out of him with your holy cudgel??
?I don?t have a holy cudgel, Aelfric.?
?You must have something. Cudgel, staff, truncheon, a sanctified broadsword glowing with divine energy. I?ve read about angels in this fantasy novel. They?re not airy-fairy types as fragile as fart gas. They?re warriors. They fought Satan?s legions and drove them out of Heaven, into Hell. That was a cool scene in the book.?
?This isn?t Heaven, son. This is Earth. Here, I?m authorized to work only by indirection.?
Quoting Mysterious Caller from their previous conversation, when they had spoken on the wine-cellar phone, Fric said, ? ?Encourage, inspire, terrify, cajole, advise.? ?
?You?ve a good memory. I know what?s coming, but I may influence events only by means that are sly-?
?-slippery, and seductive,? Fric finished.
?I may not interfere directly with Moloch?s pursuit of his own damnation. Just as I may not interfere with any heroic policeman who is about to sacrifice his life to save another, and therefore raise himself forever high.?
?I guess I understand that. You?re like a director who doesn?t get final cut of the film.?
?I?m not even a director. Think of me as just another studio executive who gives notes for suggested revisions of the script.?
?The kind of notes that always make screenwriters so pissy and turn them into drunks. They?ll bore your butt off talking about that, like a ten-year-old kid could care, like anyone could care.?
?The difference,? said the maybe-angel, ?is that my notes are always well intended-and based on a vision of the future that may be too true.?
Fric thought about all this for a moment as he pulled the chair out from the kneehole of the desk. Sitting down, he said, ?Wow. Being a guardian angel must be frustrating.?
[310] ?You can?t begin to know. You control the final cut of your life, Aelfric. It?s called free will. You?ve got it. Everyone here has it. And in the end, I can?t act for you. That?s what you?re here to do to make choices, right or wrong, to be wise or not, to be courageous or not.?
?I guess I can try.?
?I guess you better. What?ve you done with the photo I gave you??
?The pretty lady with the nice smile? She?s folded in my back pocket.?
?It won?t be any good to you there.?
?What do you expect me to do with it??
?Think. Use your brain, Aelfric. Even in your family, that?s possible. Think. Be wise.?
?I?m too drag-ass tired to think right now. Who is she-the lady in the picture??
?Why don?t you play detective? Make inquiries.?
?I did make an inquiry. Who is she??
?Ask around. That?s not a question for me to answer.?
?Why isn?t it??
?Because I have to abide by the sly-slippery-seductive rule, which sometimes makes any guardian angel a pain in the ass.?
?Okay. Forget it. Am I safe tonight? Can I wait till morning to find that deep and special secret place to hide??
?First thing in the morning will be all right,? the guardian said. ?But don?t waste any more time. Prepare, Aelfric. Prepare.?
?Okay. And, hey, I?m sorry for what I called you.?
?You mean earlier-an attorney??
?Yeah.?
?I?ve been called worse.?
?Really??
?Much worse.?
?And I?m sorry for trying to track you back.?
?What do you mean??
[311] ?It seems like a sneaky thing to do to an angel. I?m sorry for star sixty-nining you.?
Mysterious Caller fell silent.
An indefinable quality of the silence made it different from any hush that Fric had ever heard.
This was a perfect silence, for one thing, and it sucked away not only all the noise on the open line but also every whisper of sound in the library, until he seemed to have gone deafer than deaf.
The silence felt deep, too, as though the guardian were calling from the bottom of an oceanic trench. Deep and so cold.
Fric shuddered. He could not hear his teeth chatter or his body quake. He could not hear his exhalation, either, although he felt the breath rush from him, hot enough to dry his teeth.
Perfect, deep, cold silence, yes, but more and stranger than simply perfect, deep, and cold.
Fric imagined that such a silence might be cast like a spell by any angel with supernatural powers, but that it might be a trick most characteristic of the Angel of Death.
The Mysterious Caller drew a breath, inhaling the very silence and letting sound into the world once more, beginning with his voice, which resonated with an ominous note of concern: ?When did you use star sixty-nine, Aelfric??
?Well, after you called me in the train room.?
?And also after I called you in the wine cellar??
?Yeah. Don?t you know all this being who you are??
?Angels don?t know everything, Aelfric. Now and then, some things are slipped by us.?
?The first time, your phone just rang and rang-?
?That?s because I used the telephone in my old apartment, where I lived before I died. I didn?t enter your number, just thought of you, but I did pick up the phone. I was still learning learning what I can do now. I?m getting smoother at this by the hour.?
[312] Fric wondered if he was more tired even than he realized. The conversation wasn?t always making sense. ?Your old apartment??
?I?m a relatively new angel, son. Died this morning. I?m using the body I used to live in, though it?s more flexible now, with my new powers. What happened the second time you used star sixty-nine??
?You really don?t know??
?I?m afraid I might. But tell me.?
?I got this pervert.?
?What did it say to you??
?Didn?t say anything. He just breathed heavy and then made these like animal sounds.?
The Mysterious Caller was quiet, but this proved to be a far different silence from the death-deep stillness of a moment ago. This hush had in it a host of half-heard twitches, the moth-wing vibration of fluttering nerves, the so-soft tensing of muscles.
?At first, I thought he was you,? Fric explained. ?So I told him I?d looked up Moloch in the dictionary. The name excited him.?
?Don?t ever use star sixty-nine after I call, Aelfric. Not ever, ever again.?
?Why??
With hard insistence, revealing a degree of alarm that seemed to be too mortal in character for an immortal guardian angel, the caller said, ?Not ever again. Do you understand??
?Yes.?
?Do you promise me you?ll never again try to call me back with star sixty-nine??
?All right. But why??
?When I called you in the wine cellar, I didn?t use a phone, the way I did the first time. I don?t require a phone to ring you up any more than I need a car to travel. I need only the idea of a phone.?
?The idea of a phone? How?s that work??
?My current position comes with certain supernatural abilities.?
?Being a guardian angel, you mean.?
[313] ?But when I use only the idea of a phone, star sixty-nine might connect you with a place you must not go.?
?What place??
The guardian hesitated. Then he said, ?The dark eternity.?
?Doesn?t sound good,? Fric agreed, and uneasily surveyed the library.
In the labyrinth of shelves, monsters both human and not abided between the covers of so many books. Perhaps one beast prowled not in those paper worlds but in this one, breathing not ink fumes but air, waiting for a small boy to find it along one turning or another of those quiet aisles.
?The dark eternity. The bottomless abyss, the darkness visible, and all that dwells there,? the guardian elaborated. ?You were lucky, son. It didn?t talk to you.?
?It??
?What you called ?the pervert.? If they talk to you, they can wheedle, persuade, charm, sometimes even command.?
Fric glanced at the tree again. The angels seemed to be watching him, every one.
?When you press star sixty-nine,? the guardian said, ?you open a door to them.?
?Who??
?Do we need to speak their sulfurous name? We both know who I mean, do we not??