Archangel Protocol

GREY CALLS FOR AN INVESTIGATION

The press conference was set up in a makeshift tent outside the front lawn of the sealed and gated home of Reverend-Senator Etie

Mingling was encouraged before the event began, and this reporter met some virtual colleagues for the first time in the flesh. (Enter here for full-body experience.)

Once Grey arrived excitement could be felt in the air. At first proper protocol proved difficult as reporters shouted out questions simultaneously. Grey's aides, however, were prepared to deal with the chaos and managed the event with ease.

Rabbi-Senator Chaim Grey called for an investigation into the identity of his opponent. "A recluse ca

Grey a

John Taylor, reporter for the Chicago Sun, remarked that it was possible that Letourneau had drivers to take him where he needed to go.

"Yes," Grey responded, "but his whole life? Anyway, I searched for other things and found no college records, medical records, nothing."

Though a Letourneau supporter in the audience pointed out that Letourneau lived a healthy life and had an advanced degree from Columbia, Grey retorted that it was awfully convenient for Letourneau to have gone to college almost exactly twenty-one years ago, and to be one whose records were destroyed in the Medusa blast.

"I want to know if my opponent is real or imaginary," Grey said bluntly.

Chapter 20

"I should have recognized that brimstone stench when we first met," Michael said.

"I am a humble servant of my Lord," the preacher insisted, his gaze shifting to Michael.

"That was always your excuse," Michael said. Switching off his holographs, he materialized out of the bricks. The gathered crowd shouted in surprise. "And to think I complimented you for giving Deidre solace. What were you doing there every day? Trying to break her spirit?"

"I ... I ..." The preacher's whole body trembled. His knees wobbled, and his eyes rolled up into his head.

"Leaving so soon?" Michael asked, as the preacher stumbled and fell off the crate. "The fun was just starting."

"We'll meet again." A hiss, like air escaping a punctured tire, carried the words to my ear. With that, the preacher collapsed.

"Please tell me that wasn't demonic possession," I said, as I accessed the LINK to place an anonymous call to the hospital. I knew Michael would scoff at my compassion and tell me, "he'd live," but in the last year I had grown attached to the Revelation preacher, whether or not Satan possessed him.

"Sorry, Dee, it was. That's why I didn't recognize him earlier. Morningstar was hidden inside that body, like wearing a mask."

"How is that different from what you are?"

"This body was forged for my use alone. It's the one I always use." Touching his wrist, Michael engaged the holographic armor. I watched a hole open in his chest and sky poke through. Then his legs faded into the sidewalk. "Let's go."

"You seem more yourself," I said.

"It feels good to be moving, doing something. It's how I'm meant to be."

I nodded. The sky darkened to a greenish tint as we approached the edge of Harlem and traffic tu

"Hard to say. It's possible that Morningstar just invested the preacher with a bit of his spirit and sent him on his way like a windup toy."

"Can he do that? I thought miracles were too costly."

"For me," Michael grunted fiercely. "Morningstar is yetzerharah; he is a dark angel, turned away. He has all his angelic powers, but no moral restrictions."

"It doesn't pay to be good, eh?"

Michael's frown smoothed out. "There are rewards ... but they're rarely earthly."

We entered the abandoned subway at the edge of Harlem. Since all of the traffic and pedestrian tubes had moved to the upper levels for safety and comfort, the old public transportation tu

Our flashlights revealed a turnstile at the bottom of the stairs. Michael vaulted over the steel bars easily, while I crawled much less gracefully over them onto a large concrete platform. The remains of antique vending machines stood along the walls, their glass fronts smashed and the contents robbed. The curly steel holders inside the machines cast strange shadows on the wall as the beam from my light passed over them.

Across a chasm, I could see a faint light where another set of stairs led to the opposite side. I whistled lowly under my breath.

"Subway cars must have been huge," I said, pointing to the expanse between the two platforms.

Michael jumped down onto the rails. I peered over the edge nervously. My flashlight revealed a jumble of rails and dust, three feet down.

"Come on," Michael said, "I'll catch you."

Unable to bring myself to jump, I sat on the edge of the platform and lowered myself. I scraped my back and butt on the concrete as I slid to the ground. Michael steadied me as I tried to find footing on the rails. Slick with dampness, the cavity stretched ahead for miles. Ahead, in the distance, I could see the twinkle of Christmas bulbs dancing along the side of the wall where emergency lights must have hung.

I looked up, surprised that there was no rail at the top of the tu

"How did they used to get electricity to the cars?" I wondered out loud.

"Something called a third rail, if I remember correctly," Michael said.

"Huh," I said, checking my compass and map. Finding the right direction, I headed along the underground passageway. Long ago, someone had started the process of removing the tracks. I stepped cautiously over the pile of rotting ties, moving deeper into the shaft.

Some Gorgon gang had marked this territory as theirs with a slash of color on the wall. I let my fingers trail along the rough surface, avoiding a makeshift camp in the center of the tu

"It's hard to believe people live here." Pulling off his helmet, Michael appeared to grow out of a broken crate.

"I suppose it's better than the glass," I said: I switched off my armor; we were unlikely to run into anyone here. I shrugged out of the confining helmet. The air held a wild, almost swamplike odor. I took a deep breath of cool air and tried not to taste it.

Michael nodded, ru

I stretched my neck until I could feel my muscles pull slightly. "I didn't want to bring any more trouble to the Malachim."

Michael nodded. "You think Mouse is dangerous."