Anthony A.

Castro about 11,200 words

1D Oak Crest Court
Novato, CA 94947
(415)897-0305
Tcastro09@comcast.net

The Ratings Game

By A. A. Castro

Take my hand and come with me on a journey…a journey beyond the limits of the

imagination…beyond the limits of time and space…come with me and pierce the veil

between dimensions and see a world beyond reality…the planet Celestia. A place where

mysticism and superscience merge, twist and become one, the bewitching and bedazzled

heart at the center of the Universe…

The giant cyber-pteranodon squatted on the runway as the passengers entered

through the gill-gates. Horus stifled a yawn as he waited in line to get past security.

Transport stations were a pain in the ass nowadays; at least since some Oceanic demigod

got all pissy about something and tried to flood all the coastal stations in Orientalia. He

lifted his bag and slung it over his shoulder as his seat assignment was called out.

Great, he thought, another tail seat. He knew all about how everyone thought it

was the safest place to sit in flight – but the smell was godsawful, especially if the flight

was right after a feeding. Cyber-pteranodons can get really gassy.

 He sat down. The seats in the main ribcabin where getting ragged – Horus could

see the bone armature under the fleshtery. He adjusted the arterial lap-belt, like the

overhead sign told him to, and settled down to waiting. The bony ridges digging into his

back reminded him of just how much he loathed working for a company that always sent

him via the cheapest flight possible.

The giant cyborg started to flap its wings as part of the pre-flight check. After a

few minutes, it started to move down the runway, its leg muscles pistoning as it ran to

gather speed for takeoff. With one last heave it lifted its giant body into the air and

pulled its landing legs up into its chest, slowly rising and banking towards the East.

Once they were in the air, Horus pressed the neural node for his seat and waited

for the attendant. He watched the succubus as she swished her hips down the aisle

towards him.

“Welcome, noble lord, may your passage be free of travails. Is there anything I

can get for you, sir? Blanket, pillow, drink…?” Her red lips were slightly parted as she

made the ceremonial offer in a breathy, little-girl voice.

“No, just a small tumor for company, please.” He leaned towards her and lied.

“You know, I’ve never been comfortable with flying…”

She lowered her upper body, giving Horus a much better view of her six

mammaries. “Any particular species or gender you’d prefer, sir? We’re fully stocked

since this is a transcontinental flight.”

“Dog, male, Terran variety. Can I select tumor type and location also?”
 “Of course, sir…”

A few minutes later, the attendant gave him a sealed package. Horus pulled the

orange tab on the side and pulled out the genetically-engineered canine prostatal tumor.

The vestigial tail wagged furiously as he ran his fingers over the mottled, hairless skin

and tickled the auditory lobes. Horus breathed deeply and sank into his seat…dog tumors

always seemed to relax him the best.

He got bored with it after an hour. Horus didn’t want to wait for the attendant to

come around and pick the tumor up so he just chucked it into the intestinal chute under

his seat. Time to read up on my assignment, he thought.

He reached into the overhead compartment and pulled out his attaché case. There

was a sealed gray envelope inside it and nothing else. It was stamped with the stylized

“N” logo of the Nergal Investigative Services Corporation and someone had added “For

Eyes Only” with a pen. Horus grunted and shook his head – that notation was never a

good omen.

And it sure wasn’t. It was a murder investigation. Not just any murder, mind

you, this was a juicy and scandalous one. Baldur, head of programming for CBC3, had

been found murdered in his office. Horus looked at the pictures of the crime scene –

ripped apart into about a million teensy pieces is more like it, he thought.

Horus closed the manila folder and leaned back, thinking. Murder was impossible

on Celestia, at least real murder was. It was possible to wound and kill any deity, but

regeneration always took care of things. It wasn’t quite as easy like the old days on
Terra, where they couldn’t be hurt at all. Dying could still be very painful, but you

always came back. Except for Baldur.

He looked at the papers on his lap. Laboratory reports showed no signs of

regeneration, even after the standard two-day term. Horus thought that, considering the

state old Baldur was in, it would probably take all 48 hours for him to come back. Still,

there should have been something by this time. This was more than just worrisome – was

it possible that someone had figured out how to permanently kill a god?

There was something pecking at the back of his brain. There’d been a theory

once…yes, old Cit-Bolon-Tum, the Mayan medicine deity. He’d presented a paper

where he tried to show how regeneration could be disrupted or permanently stopped if a

deity were dismembered and a critical body part was missing or kept separate from the

rest of the body. They’d laughed the old Mayan off the podium, but Horus couldn’t help

thinking that Cit-Bolon-Tum might just be having the last laugh after all.

He read the rest of the dossier. Baldur, known originally as Baldur the Brave, son

of Father Odin and head of programming for channel 3 of the Celestia Broadcasting

Corporation. The guy had been brilliant – CBC3 had been a perennial also-ran in the

ratings but Baldur had put in a string of shows that were smash hits. Everything from

“Tortures of the Rich and Famous of the Underworld” to “EDWF: Extreme Divine

Wrestling Federation”.

Horus stifled a laugh. Brilliant…right. How brilliant did you have to be to come

up with a string of cheap ‘reality’ shows that catered to all those base desires and lusts
that everyone seemed so against? From the crime scene shots, it looked like whoever did

it was really pissed off at Baldur or just didn’t have any qualms about dealing with Hel.

He kept reading. Interesting…he was working on a new show that was going to

knock CBC1’s “Who Wants To Be A Creator” out of its spot as the number one show on

Celestia. It looked like just another reality game show, except that where WWTBC gave

the winner a planet to be the God of, the new show was going to use some kind of

advanced technology that would actually generate a new parallel universe that would

belong to the winner. Wild.

There was a list of possible suspects – business partners and/or rivals, discarded

lovers, envious family members. Now that’s what I call fertile ground, thought Horus as

he looked at the list of surviving relatives. The Asgardians were known for partying

hard, dying well and keeping a grudge alive past all pretense of reason. Thor, Loki,

Baldur, Hod…just remembering all the trouble they caused on Terra made Horus’ teeth

hurt. Pretty impressive, too, considering there were no teeth in his falcon beak.

Baldur had plenty of enemies in CBC, also. The guy had trampled on a lot of toes

on his way up. The old head of programming for CBC3, for starters. Horus wasn’t

surprised to see that it was none other than trickster Loki himself. The Eye flashed and

Horus frowned.

He still remembered the day his father Osiris had given him the Eye, to guide his

path and show him where evil lay. The flash he got when he thought of Loki wasn’t

exactly a guarantee of his guilt, but it sure made him a prime suspect. Damn his horns,

thought Horus, wasn’t it enough when he killed Baldur on Terra?

 The lights of the ribcabin flashed twice and a voice came over the intercom. The

flight would be landing in less than thirty minutes. Horus returned the envelope to his

case and put it all back in the overhead compartment. He hated taking off and landing in

these giant cyborg beasts – he could never forget all those reports he’d read about how

those were always the most dangerous points of a flight. It was at times like these that he

wished he could still fly like a falcon.

#####

The lilting sound of a plucked harp filled the dining room. The dinner guests

were getting excited – it was almost time for everyone’s favorite show and they all

wanted to make sure they snagged a good seat on the couch.

They ran to the living room, elbowing each other as they all tried to sit down and

get their receptor glands connected to the receiving terminal when the broadcast began.

The harp sounded again – the broadcast was starting.

They all sat back, letting the images flood their sensory receptors until the

telepresence was fully realized, a gorgeous 3-D presentation that gave them the perfect

illusion of actually being in the studio…

“Goooood evening, ladies and gentlemen! It’s 8 PM, Standard Celestian Time,

time for another installment of the highest-rated show on Celestia’s highest-rated

network! Time to ask you, our viewers…

Who….Wants….To Be….A….CREATOR!!!!!”
 “Hello, everyone, I’m Heracles, your ever-lovin’, ever-livin’ host! Thank you for

letting us into your collective consciousness so we can bring you the finest entertainment

in all of Celestia! So, with no wasting of time, here are tonight’s contestants! Will you

introduce them, Baron Samedi?”

“Hello, Heracles! It’s so good to be back with you and our fine, fine viewing

audience for another episode of “Who Wants To Be A Creator”…I had fun filling in for

Pandora on “Pandora & Ishtar: The Mortal Life” but it’s sure good to be back on my old

stomping grounds! Now, with no more delays, here’s our first contestant:

He’s a Slavic fertility deity who enjoys wine, a roaring fireplace and long walks

on the beach…Ladies and Gentlemen, say hello to Sventovit of the Four Faces!”

“Hi, everyone! I’m really excited about being here…”

“Are you nervous, Sventovit?”

“Yes!”

“Well, we’re all here to have a good time, so just relax and have fun! Our next

contestant hails from Asgard, she’s tall, blonde, gorgeous, and deadly…Ladies and

Gentlemen, please give a warm welcome to Kriemhild the Valkyrie!”

“Hi, Baron…”

“Just call me ‘Sam’, shweetheart, all the pretty girls do!”

“Hi, Sam!”
 “That’s better, we’re all friends here, aren’t we folks? Yes, indeed we are! Now,

let’s go over the rules of our game! Follow me to the Big Board!”

Horus turned away from the observation window. The new telepresence

incantations were amazing, in a strictly sensory way, but that’s not what he’d come to

see. Besides, there was something really unnatural about the way the test audience was

thrashing and foaming during the broadcast. What really creeped him out was that none

of the technicians monitoring this test seemed to think the reaction was unusual.

Someone coughed discreetly off to the side. Horus turned and saw a being with

the body of a man and the head of an owl. Not all that odd, considering Horus had the

head of a falcon. “Hail, My Lord Horus! How can this lowly one be of assistance?”

“Hello, Muan. Cut out the ‘my lord’ stuff…we’re not on Terra anymore,

remember?”

“Old habits die hard, my friend. Still, my question does stand…why the visit,

chum?”

“I’ve been sent to look into the Baldur affair.”

“Oh…did Nergal send you?”

“Yes, Muan, the Dark One has hired me to look into this. I don’t have time to

chit chat, so…”

Horus looked at Muan, raising his eyebrows and pointing to the door. Muan, true

to his Aztec demon messenger roots, was now working as the executive assistant to
CBC3’s head of programming…who was now, of course, very dead. Horus thought

about how long it had been since he and Muan had actually sat down and talked like, you

know, friends…hard to believe that it had been almost a full millennium.

“So, how was your flight?”

“It was. Sometimes I wish we could just fly on our own like we used to on

Terra…”

“Sez you, chum…I couldn’t fly, remember? I just ran fast.”

“Yeah, and you still can. Me, on the other hand…you know, every time I

remember that I get ticked off. Just how did Yahweh win that stupid game show of

yours, anyway?”

Muan’s smile disappeared. “There was a rumor the whole thing was rigged.

Didn’t NIS investigate that?”

“If NIS did, they didn’t call me. Besides, I thought the Dharmapalas took care of

that.” Strange, thought Horus, why is he asking me this?

“You know, the rumors also said there was some type of family intrigue

involved.” Muan stopped in front of a set of oversized double doors and knocked

discreetly. He whispered to Horus “Management hasn’t decided on a successor yet. I

heard Loki is pushing to get his old job back, but Dilwica has it in the interim.”
 Muan opened the doors and announced “Lord Horus is here to see you, Lady

Dilwica.” Horus heard a sweet feminine voice answer the old demon “Send that old bird

in, Muan.”

Muan waved him in. Horus walked into the large office, feet sinking into the

plush carpeting. Dilwica got up from behind the dark wooden executive desk and walked

up to greet him, her chestnut hair cascading down her front and bouncing with her

breasts. Horus stuck his right hand out but she batted it away and gave him a hug instead.

“Hello, handsome! How’ve you been?”

Dilwica had always been the affectionate type, even if they were divorced now.

He enjoyed the hug, pressing her lithe body against his…

“Good to see you also, my sweet Slavic huntress. Just wish it were under better

circumstances.”

“I got the official investigation notice from NIS this morning. I didn’t know you

still worked for the Dark One?”

“I’m still technically in his debt, so I have to. He did find and return my Eye, and

he did help me take Thanos down. You know the rules.”

“I know, but he’s just so…disgusting. Let’s talk of other things…tell me, old

falcon, is it true? About Baldur’s, ah, regeneration issues?”

 Horus turned his head and made sure the door was closed. “That’s why Nergal

called me in. The Ruling Council’s slapped a gag order over the whole investigation,

they’re trying to keep the whole thing under wraps…so how did you know about it?”

Dilwica’s lips parted in a wide, sensuous smile. “I have my sources, old bird.

Besides, this is just too big a story to keep secret. Hummm…any chance I could build a

miniseries or a special around it? A camera crew following Lord Horus as you bravely

investigate a murder that could reach all the way to the Ruling Council? You know, the

ratings would be unreal – we might even get higher numbers than WWTBC! What do

you say, handsome…one more go-around, for old times’ sake?”

“No. Dilwica, this is a state secret. You’re not supposed to know anything about

it, and I can’t comment on it. Don’t press me on it.”

The Slavic hunting goddess pulled away from hawk-headed Horus and stared at

him. “So it really is that bad, isn’t it?”

Horus looked at his ex-wife tenderly. “It’s worse, darling, and I want you to stay

out of it.”

She walked back and sat down behind her desk. “All right, then how can I help?”

Horus frowned as he thought. “I’ll need a few hours alone in Baldur’s office to

run my forensic analysis. Make sure that it stays sealed until I get there. I’ll know more

when I’m done with that.”

 Dilwica sighed. “You really do want me to stay out of this…well, I suppose it

shows you still care. I’ll make sure your requests are taken care of.”

Horus had walked to the desk and was now standing behind the seated Dilwica.

He placed his hands on her soft white shoulders...the touch of her skin brought back

memories of better times. “Thank you, dearest. It’s a dangerous affair to get involved

with, this thing.”

“Keep me informed?”

“As much I can, my darling, as much as I can.”

#####

The office had been locked and sealed for the last three and a half days. The last

person inside had been Muan, who ran out of there almost as soon as he’d turned on the

overhead lights. Seeing your boss splattered into a million bloody pieces will do that to

you.

Horus adjusted his Eye. Almost eighty hours after Baldur’s body was found, it

was difficult to use the temporal retrieval circuitry to see much farther back than 30 hours

or so. He shook his head – it just wasn’t back far enough to give him anything useful.

Horus started scanning the room for all biological traces. The bloody evidence of

Baldur’s death was everywhere, but Horus was looking for a sign of somebody that

wasn’t Baldur.
 Horus adjusted the scanning beam generated by his wrist console. It could be

difficult to sort the specific genetic markers for each deity. This was delicate work, and

Horus had to concentrate. He covered each wall, but first he had to deactivate the

empathic coloration detector that adjusted the color of the wall to the occupant’s

emotional state.

Once the walls were in their semi-opaque default mode the scanning went a little

easier. Still, it took hours for Horus to do each wall, the floor, the rug, the pad under the

rug, the windows that looked out on the multi-colored sky, the desk, the underside of the

desk, the bookcases…

Horus took out a handkerchief and wiped his brow. The office was hot and

stuffy, but he couldn’t open the windows or activate the ventilation system. He couldn’t

risk contaminating the crime scene. He was thirsty, though.

After stepping out and drinking a glass of water, Horus looked at the scan results

again. There was something definitely wrong – the total mass of biological matter in the

office wasn’t enough to fully account for all of Baldur. It seemed to be about ten to

twelve pounds short. There was some other matter, but it was a small percentage and the

markers showed that it came from deities like Muan, Dilwica, and Loki.

The Eye flashed again at that name. The trickster’s name kept coming up, much

too frequently. Horus was thinking to himself that Loki would be his next visit when he

noticed something else in his scan.

 He swore in old Egyptian, a harsh and guttural curse. It was the marker for

Kauket of Chaos, ruler of the dark pit. She was also his cousin, two or three times

removed. There’d been stories that she was working for Hel nowadays, keeping the

minions of Evil organized and working together. There was also a story that she was

Hel’s primary enforcer and avenger.

She was also the bitch that made his childhood on Terra miserable. Kauket was

one of his uncle Set’s minions. Horus’ right hand moved to the Eye – he’d paid a heavy

price to defeat the uncle who had murdered his father, Great Osiris. If Kauket had

anything to do with this…

No, he thought, don’t let that old anger control you. Self-control is a tough goal,

but it’s imperative for a deity. Back on Terra, getting too mad could end up causing an

earthquake or a volcanic eruption. Celestia wasn’t their home planet – none of the deities

had the deep empathic connection with Celestia that they had with Terra but their

emotions could still affect their environment.

Horus concentrated on his breathing to control his heartbeat. There, he thought,

that’s better. He looked at the rest of the scan results. Baldur’d been a very busy boy – it

looked like half the female population of Celestia had been in his office at one time or

another. That was another avenue to investigate – since Baldur loved women and wasn’t

above going after another’s mate Horus was sure there’d be a long list of cuckolded

husbands and jilted lovers to go through. Then again, he thought, bed-hopping is pretty

normal behavior for most deities.

 Horus decided to hold off on that line of inquiry. He’d spoke with Muan and

Dilwica. It was time to go see Loki, but Horus had one important stop still to make.

######

Horus stepped out of the CBC Headquarters building and into the blinding light of

the double suns of Celestia. He hailed a levitating taxicab that was streaking a few feet

above his head. It stopped and descended slightly – Horus opened the door and jumped

in. “Odin’s Grill, Midgard and Elysium. Make it fast.”

The fire elemental tipped his hat. “Yessir, Odin’s Grill, know just where it is.

Whoa, ya jerkoff…watch where yer flyin’!” He shook his fist and shot a small fireball at

the large transporter that’d grazed the cab.

It was lunchtime and Horus’ stomach was growling and making rumbling noises.

Loki might be there, he thought…cheap bastard’s rich but still scamming lunch from his

dad. He didn’t relish a public encounter with the trickster at this point in his

investigation, but it might be a quick way to put the whole thing to bed. Besides, he

hadn’t been to Odin’s in a couple of years.

Horus laced his fingers behind his head and stretched his legs…there were three

things you had to remember about Odin’s Grill: old man Odin served the best steak in

Celestia, the bar served the most awesome Valhallan mead Horus’d ever tasted, and don’t

grab the serving girls unless you wanted old man Odin to knock out a few of your teeth

and maybe even lay a doom upon you.

 Horus’ frown deepened. He wasn’t going to Odin’s for fun; this was a working

lunch and Father Osiris only knew how much work he had to get done. Besides, it was

only basic politeness to go there and give his condolences to old man Odin. His favorite

son was dead, after all.

Horus looked out the window of the cab as it flew him to his lunch. The

kaleidoscopic sky wasn’t as pretty as the blue of Terra’s…he missed the homeworld,

billions of miles away and under the thumb of a deity some considered senile. His gaze

went down, looking at the buildings on the ground. With the new empathic coloration

circuits on the walls, they all looked like giant candy-colored gelatin molds. Horus

laughed as he thought that all they needed was a good push to start wiggling and jiggling.

“Umm…we’re here, noble lord.” The cab driver had pulled over and down in

front of the oddest building in the city. Horus got out, paid the fire elemental and stood

there admiring the old man’s handiwork.

First, there was the bridge. It wasn’t a physical bridge; it was more like Odin had

given form and solidity to the misty rain, twisted it into a rainbow and used it to forge the

bridge. It caught the light of the suns and sparkled back in a riotous cavalcade of colors,

just like the original Rainbow Bridge to Valhalla back on Terra.

He grabbed the railing and got on the bridge. The automated walkway took him

up and around the Grand Curve, right to the front door of a stone castle whose walls

seemed to lose themselves somewhere in the mists of the upper atmosphere. Two

massive golden doors were open, with a tall blonde wearing a sword and a metal bikini as

the maître’d.
 Horus adjusted his tie and smiled. “Hello, Herfy!”

She beamed a gigantic smile at Horus, but her eyes weren’t smiling as she leaned

forward and whispered to him “It’s ‘Herfjötur’…call me that again in public and I’ll turn

you into bird seed!”

Horus wasn’t surprised by her reaction. She might look like an over-muscled

beach bunny in that metal bikini…but he also remembered her as Herfjötur the Valkyrie,

Fetter of the Armies of Valhalla and a mighty sword maiden of Father Odin. It was just

tough to remember her like that when so much of her threatened to spill out of that bikini.

Before she could react, Horus reached out and hugged her. “It’s so sweet of you

to remember me, dear…we haven’t seen each other since-“

“Since the Slavic witch you married walked in on us, you mean?”

“Are you still upset about that? Really, my dear, you should know by now-“

“What? That I was just another notch for you? And don’t bother denying it…

honestly, Horus, you never even called!”

“That’s not technically true, dear…Mother Freyja never gave you my messages!”

“Don’t you drag my mother into this!”

A small crowd was gathering, attracted by the volume of their voices and the

possibility of a real, actual showdown between two deities. Horus saw a big hammer

held up high by someone with a lot of hair coming to the doors. “Great…here comes that

brother of yours!”
 “Sister! Is this miscreant – oh, it’s you, Horus…” The tall, blonde Viking

wearing a winged helmet and carrying an epic-sized hammer stared at the Egyptian with

narrowed eyes.

“Good to see you too, Thor…how’s Mjollnir hangin’?”

“Insolent son of the desert! Were we not standing here, where the sacred laws of

hospitality protect thy feathery carcass, I would cleave thy beak in twain!”

Horus tried to stifle his laugh. “What, didn’t I give you a complete etiquette

lesson last time?”

Thunder rumbled in the distance. Herfjötur placed a hand on each of their chests.

“Boys, behave yourselves or I’ll have to call Dad. I mean it, Thor. You’re sweet,” she

said as she got on her tiptoes to kiss her brother’s cheek, “but I can handle this old bird,

big brother.”

Thor pointed at his eyes and back at Horus. “Sister, I will not have him

disrespect-“

She smiled at him. “Oh, shush, you! You know how much I love bantering with

him…”

He lifted his hammer and rested it on his shoulder before stomping off and

muttering something about the incomprehensibility of the feminine psyche. Herfjötur

turned back to Horus. “Look, I’m done with you…do you have a reservation? The lunch

crowd is coming, so…”

 “I don’t have a reservation…I came to see your dad, pay my respects-“

“And what else, Horus? He’s left orders he doesn’t want to see anyone…he’s in

the middle of Baldur’s funeral banquet.”

That could take some time, thought Horus. The last time Baldur was killed, back

on Terra, Odin held a funeral banquet that ran for a full week. “Look, I don’t want to

intrude in his moment of grief but I really need to talk to him. Don’t look at me that way

– I’m here to pay my respects to one of the Elders on the death of his son. That’s it, I

swear.”

“That better be it, Horus. Dad’s in a really bad way and I’m worried about him.”

Horus grunted noncommittally as he followed her to Odin’s private banquet room on the

10th floor. He hated lying to her, more or less, but he had to talk to the old man.

She took him into the private VIP-only elevator. When they stepped out, she led

him down a long and darkened hallway to a set of tall wooden doors carved with barbaric

splendor. Herjötur stopped and lightly knocked.

There was no response and she knocked again, a little harder.

“WHADDA YA WANT?”

“Daddy, it’s me…”

“LEAVE ME ALONE! DON’T ANY OF YOU UNDERSTAND ORDERS?”

She bit her lip. Horus thought she was about to cry. “Daddy, please open the

door…”
 They both heard heavy footsteps approaching the doors. Both wooden doors flew

open with such force they almost tore off their hinges. An older man stood there, panting

heavily and staring at them. His right eye was gone and he had two crows with him, one

perched on each shoulder. He stood ramrod straight, his heavy fur cloak reaching from

his shoulders to the floor, his one good eye red-rimmed from his grief.

“Daughter, you intrude upon my sadness…you better not be here just on some

foolish errand from your mother!”

Horus stepped forward and knelt before Odin. “Stay thy wrath, Father Odin.

Your daughter is blameless in this. I bring condolences both from my father and myself,

mighty Elder…”

“Horus, my boy!” Odin crushed him in his embrace and Horus could smell the

alcoholic mead on his breath. “It’s been too long since my eye has seen you or your

father, little bird…Daughter! Have we forgotten how to treat a guest in my hall? Mead

and meat, quickly now!” One oversized hand closed around his bicep and pulled Horus

forward.

“Come, my boy, sit, sit…how are your parents, Osiris and Isis? I remember

holding you when you were born…those were happier days back on Terra, weren’t they?

Mead! More mead, I say! Damn your eyes, can no one-oh, thank you, daughter…”

Odin grabbed the gigantic horn from Herfjötur’s hands, spilling some of the mead and

swallowing most of the rest in one mighty gulp. He balled his fist and struck his chest,

unleashing a mighty eructation that made the windows rattle.

 Horus winced; it smelled pretty bad also. He let out a small cough as he sipped

his horn. “Both my parents are in good health, Lord Odin. Their hearts, however, have

broken with the news of the passing of Baldur the Brave…”

Odin lowered his head. “Baldur was a brave lad indeed, Horus…I miss him

terribly, you know. He was the best, the best of my sons…” His fist struck the table,

making all the silverware jump at least an inch in the air. There was a flash of light from

Odin’s eye as he looked at Horus. “Why did it have to be him, Horus? Why did it have

to be my boy?”

“My Lord Odin…I am here to do more than offer my condolences.”

“Back to working for the Dark One, eh? It’s good to see one of your generation

that understands debts must be repaid, no matter what. I know that the vengeance of

Asgard will fall on the head of whoever has done this, and it will be by your hand…”

“Have…have you seen this, Great Odin?”

“Only partially, young one. Many of us still remember the justice you dealt your

uncle…harsh and terrible, true, but no more than Set deserved. Avenger you were named

by the Lady Urd, she who spins the fate of gods and men. It is a role you are destined to

play once more…”

Horus heard Odin’s words and winced inwardly. He thought he’d left the

Avenger tag behind on Earth, something over and done with after he settled with his

perfidious uncle Set. But if it was his fate, then so be it. He remembered something his

father had told him once, about how a man or a god could run all they wanted but it
would avail them nothing because the skein of their life had been weaved long before

they were born. If fate says that you will die today, then nothing you can do will change

it; best to face it with a smile on your lips and a sword in your hand than to try and outrun

what can never be outrun.

Horus sipped his mead-horn again. “Mighty Odin, there is a delicate matter I

must discuss with you.”

Odin fed a piece of meat to one of his crows as he stared and nodded at Horus. “It

is my son’s murder you wish to discuss, Horus. No need to be so diplomatic, my boy…

you Egyptians are always trying to be sly and clever when you don’t need to be. And

don’t be surprised I call it ‘murder’; I know Baldur cannot regenerate although none can

tell me why…” His voice trailed off as a tear fell from his one eye.

“Uncle…there may still be a way, if Cit-Bolon-Tum is right.”

“That crazy old Mayan? What could he know of this?”

Horus told him of the paper the Mayan medicine god had presented and the theory

of aborted regeneration by exclusion. He also told Odin about what his scans of Baldur’s

office had found. There was a flash from Odin’s one good eye. “It’s true then. Someone

finally figured it out. That’s why the Council called on Nergal and why the Dark One

called on you, Horus. But you have more to tell me, don’t you, the true reason you

came.”

“Uncle, it’s true that I’m not here just to offer condolences. There is something I

must discuss with you.”

 Odin grabbed another mead-horn and drained it. “Then speak, nephew. Tell me

of your suspicions and I will tell you the right and wrong of it. Then you can go and

leave this old man with his tears and his memories…”

Herfjötur was right; Odin was in a bad way. Horus found it hard to believe that

Odin could only stir himself to offer advice; when Baldur was killed on Terra Odin flew

into a towering rage and had to be restrained from ripping Hod and Loki limb from limb.

Horus still remembered the shiner his father got.

“Forgive me, uncle, but you must know this. Right now, my Eye tells me the

prime suspect is his half-brother…your son Loki.”

The sunlight streaming in thru the windows fled, replaced by dark storm clouds

and the rumble of lightning. The crows on Odin’s shoulders squawked and fled to the

rafters. Darkness gathered around Odin, almost like a thundercloud forming over his

head. Still seated, he seemed to grow and stretch before Horus…as an Elder, Odin could

still call upon his old powers. He pointed a finger at Horus.

“You will ne’er again refer to him as the fruit of my issue! Never again! Damn

him, damn him to all eternity! Why did I ever agree take him into my household and call

him my son? He’s ne’er been aught but the venomous snake that I clasped to my

bosom…” Odin’s fists smashed onto the table, shattering it and sending mead-horns and

platters of beef crashing onto the floor. He shuddered once as his head sank down once

more. “Oh, my Baldur…it’s my weakness that has caused your death…my darling

boy…”.
 Horus had never seen any of the Elders like this. “Uncle, I’m sorry that I’ve

caused you even more pain with my news. Maybe it’s best if I-“

Odin took a long, ragged breath. “No, little bird, do not leave. As the head of the

Asgardian clan, I hereby claim the right to assign my own avengers and declare what

punishment the trickster shall face. The Council will acknowledge my rights,” he said to

a doubtful Horus, “and so shall you, nephew.”

Horus started to speak. “Perhaps, Uncle, it would be bet-“

“NO!” Odin’s roaring answer pushed Horus back. “When you have captured

him, you shall bring him to me for MY justice! You shall not go alone, either. Long ago,

in your hour of need you appealed to me for help…as I aided you then, I shall aid you

now. I cannot assign your cousin Vali to help you once more, but there is another…”

Oh no, thought Horus, not him, please. “I shall send Mighty Thor with you,

Horus, to serve as your friend and ally in this. I see that he shall be your shield, little

bird…”

“Thank you, Mighty Odin, but-“

“But nothing! That is my final word, Horus. You will need Thor before the end,

even if you only see him as a feckless youth…now go. Leave me to mourn my son and

to pray you are right and he can return…” Horus couldn’t believe his eyes. Odin was

crying, his burning tears making little sizzling sounds as they fell on the broken pieces of

the wooden table.

 So be it, then. Horus stood up and kneeled in front of Odin. “Mighty Odin, it

shall be done as you have said. I will go forth with Thor and we will bring Loki back to

face your good justice, alive and unharmed as you wish.”

Odin did not respond, except by the barest nod of his shaggy head. He turned his

back on Horus, dismissing him from his hall. Horus got up and walked towards the

double doors where Herfjötur waited for him.

Without a word, she opened the doors and escorted him out. As soon as the doors

were closed and they stood alone in the hallway, her hand shot out and slapped Horus.

He flew back and slammed against the doors, rubbing his cheek.

“You’re a lying bastard, Horus. I don’t ever want to see you again.” The valkyrie

towered over him, her fists clenched at her sides, as she snarled at him.

Horus got up, brushed off some dirt from his jacket and adjusted his tie. “Sorry,

doll, but by your father’s orders you’ll have to deal with me one more time. We can give

each other the big kissoff after that.”

“Just get out! Thor is downstairs waiting for you…here’s your damn elevator!”

Horus made an ancient and mystical sign with his finger as the elevator doors

closed.

######
 Thor was waiting by the main entrance. He grunted in Horus’ general direction as

he saw the Egyptian coming. “Let’s get this over with, bird. I don’t like your company

any more than you like mine.”

Horus looked at Thor and just shook his head. “We’re both under orders. I know

what my duty is, longhair…just don’t get in my way.”

“I know mine also, and it’s keeping your feathery ass in one piece so you can

bring the trickster back to Dad!”

Horus made a disgusted noise as he stepped on the bridge’s automated walkway.

He didn’t bother to see if Thor was following. They both stepped off at the garage level,

before they reached the sidewalk. Thor walked towards a large and sleek chariot-like

vehicle that had two gigantic, genetically engineered goats yoked to the front. “We’re

taking my car.”

The Egyptian wrinkled his nose in distaste. “Don’t you ever wash your pets?”

“What’s the matter, afraid it’ll rub off on you?”

“No, I just don’t like riding in something that smells like a toilet.”

“Then let’s take yours…oh, wait, I forgot. You’re a flyer that never learned how

to drive!”

Horus snapped his beak at Thor in anger. “You always were an ass, Thor…what

the hell do you have against me, anyway? We got along pretty well back on Terra!”

Thor stared at him and uttered one word. “Duamutef.”

 “Huh? What, is that supposed to mean something?” Duamutef was a minor deity

who’d only risen to be an Underworld tour guide. Wasn’t he Herfy’s kid, he thought…

Thor grabbed the front of Horus’ shirt, lifted him off the floor and slammed him

into the side of the chariot. “You really are a jerkoff, Horus…don’t you know yet why

my sister is always so pissed off when she sees you?”

Horus’ Eye flashed, sending a beam of sunlight directly into Thor’s chest. The

Viking grunted and released Horus. The Egyptian looked at him angrily. “What the hell

is wrong with you?”

“For a guy who thinks he’s so smart, you’re being really dense! You got my little

sister pregnant and then you skipped out on her as soon as your wife found out…which

reminds me, you’re also a liar ‘cause you told her you were single!”

Horus stared at Thor as it dawned on him…Duamutef was his son with Herfjötur.

“Are you telling me Duamutef is my…oh man…she…she never told me. I didn’t know,

honest. Thor, we’ve known each other literally since forever. If she’d just told me…”

“Maybe because you never came back. Maybe because you never bothered to

ask, either.” They both stood by the side of the chariot, staring at each other. Thor

looked at Horus with a sour expression on his face as he entered the chariot. Horus

leaned against the side of the vehicle, trying to digest what had just happened.

“I’m a Dad” he whispered to himself. Again, his conscience added. Horus shook

his head – he didn’t have time to deal with this. He’d talk with Herfy later. Loki was his

priority right now. He turned and climbed inside the chariot.

 “Let’s go.” Thor nodded and closed the canopy door. He grabbed the neural

reins that connected to the brains of his goats and shook them. The giant goats reared up

and pawed the air, their heads almost crashing into the roof of the garage. Their bleating

was deafening, even inside the chariot, as they made their way to the departure ramp.

Thor held the reins loosely as he pulled out a pack of cigarettes and lit one. Horus

coughed lightly and eased closer to the window. The silence stretched out, becoming like

a physical obstacle between them. Occasionally, one of them looked as if he were about

to say something but neither of them knew what to say.

The goats picked up speed going up the ramp and leaped into the air. Their

hooves beating on empty air, they climbed and turned westward. It would take about an

hour to get to Loki’s personal tower after crossing the Golden Desert. Horus’ tongue

flicked out and licked the sides of his beak – this was going to be a long flight.

It was about fifteen minutes into their silent flight when they ran into interference.

Thor spotted it first – a sleek open-canopied sled flyer, fast and maneuverable, closing in

fast and coming in on a collision course. “Horus, who the hell is that?”

Horus looked at the monitor. “No idea, but…all black, no identifying beacon, no

response to hailing messages. I don’t think they want to ta-“

The chariot lurched and dipped as the sled raked it with machine gun fire. Thor

gritted his teeth as he pulled hard on the reins, trying to control the chariot. “One of your

exes?”

Horus didn’t laugh. “Doesn’t this tub of yours have any firepower?”
 The sled had dived to fire on their chariot and was now beneath them, turning and

climbing for another run. Thor’s chariot, heavier and slower, turned away and tried to

put some distance between them. He threw the reins to Horus as he opened the side

canopy and leaned out. “You forget who you’re riding with, birdie!”

Thor whirled his hammer, Mjollnir, over his head and let it fly. Horus was

impressed – the thing flew and turned like a heatseekeer, smiting the tail of the sled and

sending it to the ground with tail spinning and smoke pouring out. “Take us down,

Thor…I want to see who the sonofabitch is!”

“Now you sound like the old days…yeah, let’s go down and kick some ass!”

The chariot came in hard and fast for a landing. The goats touched ground,

jumped and touched ground again. The chariot lurched and bounced, sending Horus

flying into Thor and slamming both into a bulkhead.

The Egyptian rubbed the side of his head. “Ahhh…where’d you learn how to

land?”

Thor jumped up and offered a hand to Horus. “Wuss.”

Horus punched Thor in the arm, somewhat playfully. Thor punched him back,

harder. Horus threw another punch, and Thor responded. In a matter of seconds, they

were both rolling on the ground, yelling insults, punching and kicking each other.

Horus headbutted Thor, sending him sprawling to the ground. The Viking sprang

up and landed a right hook on his beak that sent the Egyptian flying two feet into the air.
Their fight continued, two deities standing toe to toe and beating each other almost to a

pulp as the suns of Celestia moved across the sky and the day flew by.

Both of them stood there, by the side of the chariot and with the smoking remains

of the flyer a few feet away. Thor had a cut over his eyebrow, blood covering the side of

his face. Horus wiped the side of his beak and stared at the blood on his hands from

Thor’s round house punch. He spat a bloody mess and laughed at Thor. “Well, you’re

still falling for the head fake to the right…”

Thor wiped his brow. “And you still don’t know how to sidestep a round house

left…”

They were both breathing heavily, trying to recover. Horus waved a hand at what

was left of the flyer. “So, you wanna maybe check that out?”

Thor took a long pull from his hip flask and offered it to Horus, who did the same.

“Yeah, what the hell…we don’t have anything else to do, right?”

The Egyptian reached into his back pocket and pulled out a handkerchief that he

handed to Thor. He wiped the blood from the side of his face and returned it to Horus,

who used the other corner of the handkerchief to wipe the blood from the side of his

beak. Horus folded it and held it up. “Brothers by blood and brothers by soul.”

Thor frowned for a second. “Brothers by blood and brothers by soul.” The two

deities looked at each other and clasped each others’ forearm. Horus’ arm stole behind

Thor’s back and pressed his shoulder while the Viking did the same.
 “I’ll do right by your sister and our son. You have my word as bond of that.”

Thor smiled. “I never understood why Herfy didn’t want to tell you, you know.

It wasn’t all your fault…she’s a grownup too and she knew what she was doing. You

know…ah hell! There’s someone in the flyer!”

They both ran to the smoking remains of the flyer. They heard a dry chuckle as a

dark feminine silhouette emerged, a black hole in the shape of a woman, a shape Horus

knew.

“Well, fancy running into you here, Kauket!”

The being named Kauket of Chaos sat on the ground. “Regeneration can be a real

bitch sometimes…I’ve had to lie there for hours and listen to you two idiots go thru your

male bonding routine. You’re still a little spineless worm, cousin!”

Horus grabbed her and yanked her to her feet. “What are you doing here? Who

sent you?”

“What, aren’t you going to tie me up for a while? I thought you liked that

game…”

Thor’s grip on Mjollnir grew tighter. “Just give me ten minutes alone with her,

cousin, just ten minutes…”

“Oh, finally got over that ‘Thor the Minuteman’ problem the other girls told me

about?”
 Thor yelled out a curse as Horus held him back. Kauket was almost rolling on the

ground with laughter. “Thor! Get a grip, man…I’ll make her talk!”

The Viking squirmed in Horus’ grasp. “Then get started, damn it, before Mjollnir

caves in her skull!”

Horus released him and stepped back. He turned to Kauket who still sat there,

looking at both with amused contempt. “You will answer my questions, cousin…who

sent you and why? Don’t make me compel you!”

Kauket bared her teeth and spat at him. “Do your worst, little shitbird…you’re

too late, just like always!”

What the hell did she mean by that, he thought. Horus adjusted his Eye. A beam

of bright sunlight came from it, bathing Kauket in its brilliance. She turned away but

Horus’ will held her there as the black shape began to smoke. Kauket began to make

small meowing, whimpering noises as the sunlight burned her.

“Damn you, Kauket…answer me! Who sent you here and why?”

“You…think…this…hurts? It…hurts…so…gooood…”

Horus swore one more time and adjusted the intensity of his Eye’s beam.

Kauket’s form was covered by a golden brilliance that could not mask her increasing

pain. The ruler of the Dark Pit of Chaos squirmed and arched her back trying to escape

her cousin’s questioning.

 “I have no problem doing this all day, Kauket…I still remember what you did to

Dad!”

“Keep…going…shit…bird…haven’t…had this…much…fun…in AGES!”

Thor tapped Horus on the shoulder. “She’s getting off on the beam…it’s not

working!”

“Wait.”

“Horus, look at her! The damn beam isn-“

“I said wait!”

Thor pursed his lips and walked away. Horus took a step closer to Kauket. Her

entire body was smoking, little tendrils of flame starting to light up. She squirmed and

shuddered, trying to look away. “OK! I’ll…give you…a…name…but…you…have to…

give me…protection! That’s…the deal…”

“No dice. Give me a name and I’ll turn off the beam; that’s as far as I’ll go until

you cough it up!”

She spat it out. Thor and Horus looked at each other in surprise. Horus made a

disgusted noise as he switched his beam and walked away. Kauket’s laughter was cut

short by Mjollnir smashing her skull into fragments.

They both climbed back into the chariot and took off. Thor lit up another

cigarette and offered one to Horus, who waved him off. “I think she’s right, Thor…we’re

too late.”
 ######

They arrived at the ultra-posh and exclusive Asgardian Haven Towers

development later that day. The flight, which should only have taken one hour at most,

had taken up most of the day, what with Kauket and the unfinished business between

Horus and Thor.

The big Viking’s chariot barreled and crashed heavily onto the parking ramp,

striking sparks and sending small chunks of concrete flying. It turned and skidded to a

halt, the giant goats that pulled it falling all over each other and almost making the whole

thing overturn.

A big furry boot kicked the crushed door open, and both of them emerged. A

little the worse for wear, clothing torn and blood-stained, Horus and Thor waited while

the parking cherub came to them. That’s not what happened, though.

A puff of smoke and the pluck of a harp announced the arrival of Accla-Larentia,

a very old Roman deity who now owned and operated all commercial parking facilities

on Celestia. She was tall and blonde, but it seemed to Horus that her makeup was layered

on a little too thick and that her roots didn’t look all that golden. “Hold, ruffians! How

dare you enter with such – oh, it’s you, Thor! Give your Larie a hug…you bad boy, you

never called me back!”

Horus stifled a laugh as the aging deity practically threw herself at Thor who

could only give her a sickly smile and try to avoid her embrace. “Hi, ah…Larie! I

thought I did call you, but hey! You know how things can get sometimes…love to stay
and chat but Horus and I’ve got to go…I’ll call you, oh, how about next week

sometime?”

She pouted and batted her eyelashes at the Viking. “You’re so cruel, you big

muscular Viking…here I am, pining away for love of you while you’re gallivanting all

over Celestia…probably romancing all the pretty girls you see! Isn’t that right, Horus?”

Horus had effectively tuned her out. He just wanted Thor to get rid of her so they

could get their job done. “Huh? I’m sorry…Thor, we have to go. My lady, we don’t

have time to chat. We’re here on Council business…please excuse us.”

They left Accla-Larentia standing there, calling after them as they both walked

away. Thor could hear her plaintively calling out and telling him to call her. He looked

at Horus and rolled his eyes. “Thanks for the assist back there.”

“Did you and her really, you know, do it?”

Thor sighed. “I met her at some party that Mom threw for Brunnhilde. Kriemhild

introduced us, we went out a couple of times, that was it! Don’t laugh – I’ve seen some

of your dates too, you know!”

“Yeah, but I never dated my Grandma!”

“Don’t be grotesque! Besides, I heard you were close…”

They were at the elevator banks. Horus checked his notes – Loki lived all the

way at the top, the 145th floor penthouse. Swanky.

 Both of them entered the elevator. Horus pressed the button marked ‘145’ and the

doors closed with a slight pneumatic hiss. He looked at Thor and tried to straighten what

was left of his tie. “Too bad we didn’t get a chance to change into something decent.”

“Doesn’t matter. He’s going to crap his pants when he sees us, anyway.”

Thor’s grip on his hammer tightened. Horus could see it in the Viking’s eyes, the

beginning of that berserker fury that got them both in so much trouble when they were

kids on Terra. “Remember your Dad wants him brought in alive.”

“He’ll get him alive and still able to talk, even if it’s just barely...”

The elevator reached the 145th floor. They stepped out of the elevator cab into a

thickly-carpeted hallway decorated, tastelessly in Horus’ eyes, with Southwestern art that

complemented the soft pastel colors of carpet and walls. He smiled when he saw the

grimace of distaste on Thor’s face. “Boy, your brother’s taste sure i-“

“I know. His taste sucks. Nobody in the family knows where he gets it from,

either. One more thing – he’s not my brother, not even a half-brother…he’s just a

foundling Dad felt sorry for.”

Horus could tell Thor’s mood wasn’t getting any better. They reached the double

doors that led to Loki’s penthouse. The Egyptian stood to one side and Thor stood on the

opposite side as Horus knocked. “Loki, open the door. It’s Horus with Thor and we’re

here to question you regarding the death of Baldur.” He knocked again. “We have

orders from the Council and Lord Odin, Loki. Open the door.”
 Silence. Thor started to lift Mjollnir. “Loki, open the damn door now before I

have to batter it down!”

Horus made a waving motion with his hand, signaling Thor to stop. “Loki,

Kauket talked. There’s no point to this…open the door and we can help you!”

Thor frowned and lifted the hair from his face. “Screw this…” Mjollnir struck

the wooden doors, splintering and cracking them, pieces of wood flying all around as the

doorway collapsed.

Horus coughed and waved his arms, trying to move the dust away from his face.

Thor didn’t wait – he charged into the room with Mjollnir in the air, ready to beat down

whoever was foolish enough to try and stop him.

The Egyptian heard three shots being fired, the sound muffled into a soft ‘pffftt’

by the silencer. Thor swayed for a second as he looked at the bright red stains on his

chest. “Aw shi…” He collapsed, face forward, like a mighty redwood falling in the

forest.

Horus cursed in anger. Idiot…why couldn’t Odin send me Vali instead, he

thought. “Stop shooting! The Council has the building surrounded…the only way you’re

walking out of here alive is if you talk to me!”

A small voice came from inside. “Horus, I just put three bullets in Thor’s chest.

By my calculation, that should keep him out of the way for about three hours. I want you

to put your hands up and enter the room slowly, please. Now.”
 Horus stepped over what was left of the doors and entered the penthouse. It was

the main receiving room, with Loki sitting on the couch. Except that Loki was sitting

there headless, the blood still slowly pumping out thru the veins in his neck and

stretching out in a pool on the floor.

The Egyptian looked at the owl-headed deity standing behind the couch and

holding Loki’s head. “Oh, Muan…why did you do this?”

Muan tried to wipe some of the clotted gore that stained the front of his tunic. He

held his head high as he looked at Horus. “For something you’ll never understand…love,

Horus. All I ever wanted to do was to serve and help him, you know. Sonofabitch…”

Muan choked up and started to cry.

Horus took one step closer. “Let me help you, then. Tell me what happened,

Muan…I’m your friend. Tell me.”

“I did it all for him, you know. All! It wasn’t fair, what they did to him, he didn’t

de…he didn’t deserve it, any of it! But when I told him, he…he”

“It’s all right, Muan. Take a deep breath…take your time, old friend.”

It took a while for Muan to get the story out. It was the usual story of unrequited

love and twisted passion, a story older than Horus himself. Yes, he was the one who

arranged for Baldur’s murder. Muan hated him because Baldur had built his career by

stealing Loki’s programming ideas and finally his job. Tired of seeing his boss and lover

treated that way, Muan contacted Kauket and hired her for the hit. He’d recently run
across a report from an old medical conference and that gave him the idea to have Kauket

chop off Baldur’s head and bring it back to him.

Horus nodded. His Eye hadn’t flashed at Loki’s name because of his guilt; the

Eye had been trying to tell him that Loki, innocent or not, was the motive for the crime.

“Did Loki know you were planning Baldur’s murder?”

Muan shot an angry look at Horus. “Of course not! But I knew he wanted Baldur

out of the way…wouldn’t you, if your brother stole everything you ever had?”

“How did you plan it all out, Muan?”

Muan laughed. “All I had to do was get Kauket to show some interest in him…

Baldur was such a slut. I arranged for Kauket to meet him in his office after everyone

was gone for the day. He thought he was getting laid but all he did was give a little

head!” His laughter grew louder and higher, edging towards hysteria as spittle flew from

his beak.

Horus took another step closer. “Why did you send her after us?”

“I knew you’d figure it out. You’re too damn smart for your own good. She

couldn’t take you both but I figured she’d slow you down and give me time to tell

him…” Muan started sobbing again.

“You mean tell Loki and get away, right?” He edged a little closer to Muan.

Horus still had his hands up. Muan, one hand still clutching an old Terran Luger,

fell to his knees. His chest hitched up as he tried to catch his breath and talk. “He…he
pushed me away! He told me to get the hell away from him! I kept telling him that I

love him, we can still get away and be together…sonofabitch laughed at me!” The gun

slipped from his fingers as he cradled Loki’s head on his lap. “Why’d you laugh at me,

honey…why’d you laugh at me?”

Horus saw his chance. As Lord of Sun and Moon back on Terra, he had some

power over them in the old days. Nowadays, however, it was mostly the advanced

technology built into the circuitry of his artificial eye that let him use a semblance of his

old powers. He could generate a beam of sunlight or project a shroud of darkness. It’s

just that using the shroud took so much out of him…

He spoke the key-phrase that made his subconscious generate whatever energy it

used to activate the shroud. It was a cloud of darkness that seemed to boil out from his

Eye and shoot across the room to Muan. Before the Aztec demon could react, he found

himself trapped in an endless abyss of absolute blackness, a void where there was not a

speck of light.

“Horus! Horus, you bastard, what have you done!” Muan rolled helplessly on the

floor. He couldn’t see a damned thing, even though he could still feel his beloved’s head

on his lap.

Horus jumped towards Muan and grabbed the Luger that was still lying right next

to him. He was about to bring it down on Muan’s head when he heard a low moan

coming from Loki’s head. With a cry of disgust, the Egyptian used the butt of the gun to

knock the Aztec out.

 Muan lay unconscious at his feet, Loki’s head a few inches away after rolling off

his lap. Horus could see the mouth slowly opening and closing, the eyes rolling and

trying to focus…it made him want to throw up his lunch.

He lifted the demon up and threw him onto a chair. He ripped the tunic Muan

wore and used the strips to tie him to the chair. He used his foot to move Loki’s head as

close to his body as he could without using his hands. He then filled a glass from the

carafe on the table and threw it at Muan’s face.

The Aztec coughed and shook his head. Horus stood in front of him, glowering.

“Where is it, Muan? Where did you put Baldur’s head?”

Muan’s eyes were bloodshot and unfocused. “Screw you. Why should I tell you?

You’ll take me before the Council and-”

“I lied. There’re no Council security troopers outside, and I’m not taking you to

the Council. Lord Odin wants a long and very private audience with you. I don’t know

what he’s got planned for you – he was expecting Loki, but I’m sure that whatever long

and painful unpleasantry he was going to inflict on the trickster can be easily adapted to

you.”

Horus saw fear cross Muan’s eyes. “No, please, don’t give me to Odin! Please!”

“Then tell me where Baldur’s head is! I don’t know what the old man’s going to

do to you, but he may stay his hand if I can bring back his son! Tell me!”
 Muan was sobbing again. “It’s in…in the medical bag behind the couch…please,

Horus, please don’t give me to that old man…I’m begging you, please…”

Horus walked behind the couch where Loki’s body lay next to its’ head. He

opened the old fashioned black medical bag that was hidden back there.

This time, he did throw up his lunch.

######

It had been two days since he’d delivered Muan to Lord Odin and received the

grateful thanks of the Lord of Asgard. He’d already contacted his boss and given him his

report. Nergal seemed pretty pleased that the whole affair had been cleared up so quickly

and so quietly, considering the explosive nature of what had happened. Horus looked at

his account balance – yeah, Odin had been very grateful and Nergal very pleased. It was

Horus’ favorite type of gratitude.

It also turned out that Cit-Bolon-Tum hadn’t been completely correct in his

theories. Separating parts of the body didn’t really kill a Celestian – it just stopped the

regeneration process, even though the individual parts continued to move and search for

the rest of itself. Horus shuddered a bit as he remembered the heads he’d found, stuck in

some horrific limbo of semi-consciousness where they were aware but could do nothing.

He was glad when he heard that Baldur and Loki were recuperating nicely, even if he

really didn’t like either one.

Thor came to after three hours, just like Muan had said, and he was still the same

impulsive troublemaker as always. Horus was pleased – the big Viking could be a real
pain but he was also a hell of a lot of fun to hang out with. He was meeting him for lunch

at his Dad’s restaurant.

There was one part of it he wasn’t looking forward to and that was running into

Herfjötur again. He’d given his word, though, and no deity could go back on that. He

adjusted his tie and straightened his jacket as he got out of the taxi and climbed onto the

Rainbow Bridge.

At least she wasn’t working as the maître today. Kriemhild was covering for her.

Horus didn’t like the too-wide smile she gave him as she ceremoniously checked the

reservations for his name. As she assigned one of her sisters to take him to his table,

Horus felt like some poor dumb animal being taken to the slaughterhouse. He just

couldn’t shake the feeling this was a setup.

And here we go, he thought to himself as he saw her sitting with Thor, her

fingernails clicking on her martini glass. Herfjötur had really decked herself out – she

was wearing her tight metallic Valkyrie corset and a short golden skirt with a truly

gravity-defying pair of high heels. It wasn’t a revealing outfit, it was just how it

emphasized so much of her that distracted Horus.

Thor spotted him. “Horus, ya hawker, how’ve you been? Hey, I guess Dad was

right when he told you I was a shield you’d need before the end. I just wish it hadn’t hurt

so much, you know?” The big Viking had gotten up and was pounding Horus on the

back.
 “Glad to see you up and around, big guy! Hey, don’t beat up on the

merchandise!” Horus slipped from Thor’s grasp and was playfully twisting his arm

behind his back.

“Well, when you girls are done kissing maybe one of you can get me another

martini?” Horus turned and saw her smiling at him. He was surprised at how good that

smile made him feel. He pulled out a chair and sat down next to her.

“How about I trade you a martini for a hello kiss?”

“You still think I’d want to kiss you after the way you said goodbye to me

upstairs?”

“Can’t blame a fella for trying. And you are both trying and worth trying for!”

She grabbed the sides of his face in her hands and pulled Horus towards her.

Thor smiled and discreetly looked away. Herfjötur’s hand came up and waved him

towards the bar. That was the Viking’s cue to get her a drink and leave them alone for a

bit.

Thor took his time, stopping first at the men’s room and then saying hello to a

couple of friends at the restaurant. He got three martinis from the bar and reminded

Kriemhild that they still needed menus. Balancing the three glasses in his beefy hands,

he navigated his way back to their table with nary a drop spilled.
 Horus and Herfjötur were sitting close together and looking quite chummy. Isn’t

that nice, thought Thor. He hadn’t been looking forward to fighting Horus again if he

misbehaved. He coughed discreetly, giving them both a chance to come up for air.

“Beware of lightning gods bearing gifts” he intoned ominously as he handed out

the martinis. His sister laughed, and it was good to see her laugh again. Horus lifted his

glass.

“I’d like to propose a toast…”

Herfjotur couldn’t keep her eyes off him. “Propose away, handsome. Sounds

interesting!”

Horus smiled. “No, really, I’m being serious. Here’s to friends…time and

distance may strain our bonds but never break them!”

They clinked their glasses. Herfjotur started to tell Thor about the plans Horus

and her were making for the weekend as the menus arrived and they ordered their meals.

Time passed in a very agreeable manner, washed down by good food and many

martinis. Horus sat quietly. Thor turned to him. “What’s on your mind, cuz? Why so

quiet?”

Horus sipped the last of his martini. “You know, I was just thinking about Muan

and Loki…it’s just amazing to me the crap people will try to get away with just to get

ratings!”

THE END