“I’m sorry to keep you waiting,” the professor said. “It was impossible for me to come earlier. What can I do for your”
The G-man identified himself and showed his sigh. “I’m trying to get in touch with Mr. and Mrs. Steven Matuchek. You know them, don’t you?”
“Well, ah, yes . . .haven’t seen them lately—” Griswold was a lousy liar.
Shining Knife’s countenance hardened. “Please listen, sir. I returned this afternoon from a trip to Washington on their account. The matter they’re involved in is that big. I checked with my subordinates. Mrs. Matuchek had disappeared. Her husband had spent time in a spyproof conference room. He’d not been seen to leave his place of work at quitting rime. I sent a man in to ask for him, and he wasn’t to be found. Our people had taken pictures of those who went into the plant. A crime lab worker here recognized you among the members of the conference. Are you sure the Matucheks aren’t with you?”
“Y-yes. Yes. What do you want with them? Not a criminal charge?”
“No, unless they misbehave. I’ve a special order enjoining them from certain actions they may undertake. Whoever abetted them would be equally subject to arrest.”
Griswold was game. He overcame his shyness and sputtered: “Frankly, sir, I resent your implication. And in any event, the writ must be served to have force. Until such time, they are not bound by it, nor are their associates.”
“True. Mind if I come look around your place? They might happen to be there . . . without your knowledge.”
“Yes, sir, I do mind. You may not.”
“Be reasonable, Dr. Griswold. Among other things, the purpose is to protect them from themselves.”
“That attitude is a major part of what I dislike about the present Administration. Good day to you, sir.”
“Uh, hold.” Shining Knife’s tone remained soft, but nobody could mistake his expression. “You don’t own the building you’re in.”
“fm responsible for it. Trismegistus is a private foundation. I can exercise discretionary authority and forbid access to your . . . your myrmidons.”
“Not when they arrive with a warrant, Professor.”
“Then I suggest you obtain one.” Griswold broke the spell.
In the lab, we regarded each other. “How long?” I asked.
Barney shrugged. “Under thirty minutes. The FBI has ways.”
“Can we scram out of here?” Ginny inquired of him.
“I wouldn’t try it. The area probably went under surveillance before Shining Knife tried to call. I expect he stayed his hand simply because he doesn’t know what we’re doing and his orders are to proceed with extreme caution.”
She straightened. “Okay. Then we go to hell.” Her mouth twitched faintly upward. “Go directly to hell. Do not pass Go. Do not collect two hundred dollars.”
“Huh?” Barney grunted, as if he’d been kicked in the stomach. “No! You’re as crazy as the Feds think you are! No preparation, no proper equipment—”
“We can cobble together a lot with what’s around here,” Ginny said. “Bolyai can advise us, and Lobachevsky till we leave. We’ll win an advantage of surprise. The demonic forces won’t have had time to organize against our foray. Once we’re out of American jurisdiction, can Shining Knife legally recall us? And he won’t keep you from operating our lifeline. That’d be murder. Besides, I suspect he’s on our side, not glad of his duty. He may well offer you help.” She went to Barney, took one of his hands between both of hers, and looked up into his craggy face. “Don’t hinder us, old friend,” she pleaded. “We’ve got to have you on our side.”
His torment was hurtful to see. But he started ripping out commands. Our team plunged into work.
Griswold entered. “Did you—Oh. You can’t leave now.”
“We can’t not,” I said.
“But you haven’t . . . haven’t had dinner! You’ll be weak and—Well, I know I can’t stop you. We keep a fridge with food in the research lab, for when a project runs late. I’ll see what it holds.”
So that’s how we went to storm the fastness of helclass="underline" Janice’s borrowed shoulder purse on Ginny, and the pockets of Barney’s outsize jacket (sleeves haggled short) on me, a-bulge with peanut butter sandwiches, tinned kipper for Svartalf-Bolyai, and four cans of beer.
XXXI
We had some equipment, notably Ginny’s kit. This included Valeria s primary birth certificate, which Ashman had brought. The directions he could give us for using it were the main reason he’d been recruited. She put in her own bag, clipped to her waist, for the time being.
Nobody, including our geometers, knew exactly what would and would not work in hell. Lobachevsky was able to tell us that high-religious symbols had no power there as they do here. Their virtue comes from their orientation to the Highest, and the fundamental thing about hell is that no dweller in it can love. However, we might gain something from paganism. Its element of honor and justice meant nothing where we were bound, but its element of power and propitiation did, and although centuries have passed since anyone served those gods, the mana has not wholly vanished from their emblems.
Ginny habitually wore on her dress the owl pin that showed she was a licensed witch. Griswold found a miniature jade plaque, Aztec, carved with a grotesque grinning feathered serpent, that could be secured to the wereflash beneath my shirt. A bit sheepish under Pastor Karlslund’s eye, Barney fished out a silver hammer pendant, copy of a Viking era original. It belonged to his wife, but he’d carried it himself “for a rabbit’s foot” since this trouble broke, and now passed the chain around Svartalf s neck.
Projectile weapons weren’t apt to be worth lugging. Ginny and I are pretty good shots in the nearly Euclidean space of this plenum. But when the trajectory is through unpredictable distortions that affect the very gravity, forget it, chum. We buckled on swords. She had a slender modern Solingen blade, meant for ritual use but whetted to a sharp point and edge. Mine was heavier and older, likewise kept for its goetic potency, but that stemmed from its being a cutlass which had once sailed with Decatur.
Air might be a problem. Hell was notoriously foul. Scuba rigs were in stock, being used for underwater investigations. When this gets you involved with nixies or other tricky creatures, you need a wizard or witch along, whose familiar won’t be a convenient beast like a seal unless you have the luck to engage one of the few specialists. Accordingly there are miniature oxygen bottles and adjustable masks for a wide variety of animals. We could outfit Svartalf, and I tied another pint-size unit to the tank on my back—for Val, in case.
That completed the list. Given time, we could have done better. We could have ridden a dragon instead of two brooms, with an extra beast packing several tons of stuff against every contingency that a strategic analysis team might propose. Still, the Army had used that approach and failed. We had fresh knowledge and a unique scout. Maybe those would serve.
While we bucked ourselves with several helpers, Barney and Nobu made the final preparations to transmit us. Or almost final. At the last minute I asked them to do an additional job as soon as might be.
At the center of the Nexus drawn on the door, whose shape I won’t reveal, they’d put a regular confining pentacle set about with blessed candles. A giant bell jar hung from a block and tackle above, ready to be lowered. This was for the counter-mass from the hell universe, which might be alive, gaseous, or otherwise troublesome. “After we’ve gone,” I said, “lay a few hundred extra pounds of material in there, if the area’s not too dangerous to enter.
“What?” Barney said, astonished. “But that’d allow, uh, anything” pursuer—to make the transition with no difficulty.
“Having arrived here, it can’t leave the diagram,” I pointed out. “We can and will, in a mighty quick jump. Have spells ready to prevent its return home. Thing is, I don’t know what we’ll find. Could be an item, oh, of scientific value; and the race needs more data about hell. Probably we won’t collect any loot. But let’s keep the option.”