Up
To Mischief
Sogwa
fled Gop’s electric wrath. She hurried back along the ventilator duct the way
she came, turning left, up, ana, left, up, ana, again and again. She hurtled
dizzily along a four-dimensional spiral, tracing back her way.
Soon
she returned to the Belfry in the Eye. Chaim reached down to help her out of
the air vent and into the Belfry.
She
asked him, “Now what?”
“Now
you wait and see,” said Chaim, and he went back to his telescopes.
Sogwa
asked, “What are you doing?”
“I’m
watching. I’m a watchman.” He adjusted a monitor.
“What
are you watching for?”
“The
Messiah.”
“The
what?”
Mischief
interrupted. “Eek, eek!” Mischief squeaked. “I’ve got something to show you!”
He flapped out of the Belfry and made a quirky four-dimensional twist.
Chaim
clicked some controls and said, “Tracking him on Monitor 6.”
Sogwa
looked at Monitor 6, and saw herself, back in Nowheresville Mall again; and
Mischief flapped in from hyperspace, again. Once again they hugged, Sogwa’s
parents wailed from far away, they chatted a bit, he told her to meet him at
the Top Gate, and once again he flapped off into hyperspace.
A
few moments later he flapped back into the Belfry. “You see? You see?” Mischief
squeaked. “From here we can go back in time!” Mischief flapped up to join his
batty friends. They were excited about something. They eeked and they squeaked
and they passed notes to each other. Lots of them were flying into hyperspace,
and back again. They were up to something.
Sogwa
turned back to Chaim and said, “Pardon the interruption.”
Chaim
said, “That’s OK, I’m busy too. But please, keep talking.”
Sogwa
said, “You said, ‘the Messiah’. Who or what is that?”
Chaim
said, “The Messiah is the Savior King. He’s the Perfect Hero, the White Knight,
the Redeemer come to Save the World.”
“You
mean... he’s the Good Guy?”
Chaim
said, “That too is a true name.”
“And
you’re on the lookout for him?”
“Yes,”
Chaim said, and switched to another telescope.
“Eek
eek!” Mischief interrupted again. “Look at this, look at this!” He flapped out
of the belfry and made a quirky four-dimensional twist.
Chaim
clicked some controls and said, “Tracking him on Monitor 42.”
Sogwa
looked at Monitor 42. She saw a room in a corporate office building. A Boss was
meeting two of his Assistants. They were telling him about the Hell-Bomb
Account, and two ways to fill the order.
The
First Assistant said, “Plan A will cost us nine million, eight hundred and
seventy-six thousand, five hundred and forty-three dollars and twenty-one
cents. It will easily pass inspection and it will certainly work.”
The
Second Assistant said, “Plan B will cost us nine million, eight hundred and
seventy-six thousand, five hundred and forty-three dollars and twenty
cents. It will cost one less cent than plan A; it will pass inspection just as
easily; and it will almost certainly work.”
The
Boss said, “I must consult my conscience.” He stood up, turned to the window,
parted the curtain, and stared out at the city.
Leathery
wings flapped, and a little critter flew in from hyperspace. Mischief grabbed
the curtain rod and hung upside down. Nobody could see him, but the Boss could
hear him.
Mischief
whispered, “Your responsibility is to the stockholders.”
The
Boss turned around and said, “Initiate plan B!”
Mischief
flapped back to the Belfry and rejoined his friends.
Sogwa
turned back to Chaim and asked him, “Why are you looking for the Messiah?
“That’s
my job,” said Chaim. “It’s what I’m paid for.”
“Who’s
paying you?”
“The
people of Hellen,” Chaim said. “Once upon a time, many years ago, they expected
the imminent coming of the Messiah, so they decided to hire a watchman.”
Sogwa
said, “And you applied for the job.”
Chaim
said, “They told me to keep a look-out, here in the Eye of the Pyramid. They
said, ‘When you see the Messiah coming, in all his glory, then sound the
alarm!’ I took the job, and I’ve been looking for the Messiah ever since.”
“Eek
eek!” Mischief interrupted again. “Look at this, look at this!” He flapped out
of the Belfry and made a quirky four-dimensional twist.
Chaim
clicked some controls and said, “Tracking him on Monitor 23.”
Sogwa
looked at Monitor 23. She saw a bedroom, late at night. A Nerd in pajamas was
working at his homestation, checking blueprints for the Plan B Hellbomb.
Resting
on the desk right next to the monitor was a game disk; the Leather Goddesses of
Phobos, in Two Exciting Playing Modes; Mild and Wild. The Nerd was planning to
play that disk, as soon as he finished this job, and it was nearly done.
The
Nerd said, “Uh-oh, what’s that? A bug?” He stared into the monitor, typed
awhile, scratched his head. “Was it there or not? Hmm...”
The
Nerd tried a few more tests, then shook his head.
Leathery
wings flapped, and a little critter flew in from hyperspace. Mischief grabbed
the light fixture and hung upside down. He told the Nerd, “It looks
nominal.”
The
Nerd said, “Yes, it does.”
Mischief
said, “You could spend the rest of the night hunting down that bug, if it exists.”
The
Nerd said, “If.”
“Or,”
said Mischief, “you could exit the program, order in some pizza, and boot up
the leather goddesses.”
“But
what if the bug is there, and they find out?”
“Then
they will find out at the end of the world.”
The
Nerd said, “Good point,” and he exited the program.
Mischief
flapped back to the Belfry and rejoined his friends.
Sogwa
turned back to Chaim and asked him, “Have you seen the Messiah yet?”
“No,
not yet. And believe me, if I had, you’d know. Everybody would know.
These bells are very loud.”
“Eek
eek!” Mischief interrupted again. “Look at this, look at this!” He flapped out
of the Belfry and made a quirky four-dimensional twist.
Chaim
clicked some controls and said, “Tracking him on Monitor 69.”
Sogwa
looked at Monitor 69. She saw a factory, late on Friday afternoon. The Factory
Foreman looked down at the factory floor. “Oh, no,” he said; for there in plain
sight was a loose bolt. Was it there a minute ago? He wasn’t sure.
The
Foreman looked at the Plan B, Nerd-checked hell-bomb. It was complete, and
about to be taken off the assembly line. It was the last one of the workday,
and the Foreman had been looking forward to going home and cracking open a nice
cold can of beer.
Leathery
wings flapped, and a little critter flew in from hyperspace. Mischief grabbed a
girder and hung upside down. He told the Foreman, “You know, you could
stop the line...”
The
Foreman said, “Yeah, I could.”
“You
could keep everybody overtime on Friday afternoon, and make them crack open
this hell-bomb to check every single one of its bolts.”
“Or,”
said the Foreman, “I could call it a day.”
“But
that’s a loose bolt.”
“But
this is Friday afternoon.”
“If
they ever need that hell-bomb, then you’ll be in big trouble if it doesn’t work!”
“If
they ever need that hell-bomb, then everybody will be in big trouble, whether
or not it works. Good evening,” said the Foreman, and he left.
Mischief
flapped back into the Belfry. “You see, you see?” he squeaked.
“I
do see,” said Chaim. “Because of plan B, the bug and the bolt, that particular
hell-bomb looks like a hell-bomb, and tests like a hell-bomb, but it will never
explode like a hell-bomb.”
“One
down, plenty more to go,” said Mischief. He flapped up to join his batty
friends.
Sogwa
scanned various other monitors. “There’s lots of corruption going on,”
she said.
“Oh
yes,” said Chaim. “Little bits, here and there; it adds up.” He pointed to a
monitor. “This bomb has DDT instead of TNT. And that one has platinum instead
of plutonium.”
Sogwa
said, “And there’s lots of rebellion going on, too.”
Monitor
17 showed the rally at the Akasic Library Plaza. Miss Liberty was rallying the
crowd. The police squad that Gop had sent there had changed sides, and was
leading the chants.
Monitor
76 showed the block outside the Pyramid. A crowd had gathered, carrying protest
signs, and it was getting bigger and louder.
Monitor
86 showed the Chief Justice of the Hellen Supreme Court. He was frowning at one
of Gop’s lawyers. He intoned, “MOTION DENIED,” and pounded his gavel.
Monitor
96 showed the Senate Floor in Hellen’s City Hall. They had just passed a
censure resolution, and were drawing up articles of impeachment.
And
Monitor 666 showed the floor of the Hellen Stock Exchange. Every stock held by
Gop and his inner circle was selling for pennies on the dollar.
Chaim
said, “Oh yes. All Hellen is breaking loose.”
Sogwa
said, “So will you sound the alarm?”
“Not
until the Messiah arrives.”
“You
want a savior-king?” Sogwa yowled. “What about Mischief and his batty friends,
right over your head? They’re busy saving everybody!”
“But
they aren’t kings.”
“You
want a king? What about Gop?”
“But
he isn’t a savior.”
“You
mean nobody’s both savior and king?”
“Nobody
yet.”
“So
no Messiah.”
“None
so far.”
“And
you’ve been looking for one.”
“All
these years,” Chaim agreed. He adjusted the focus on a telescope.
Sogwa
said, “How much are they paying you to do this?”
Chaim
said, “One shekel a day.” He checked a monitor and moved on.
“That’s
not much, is it?”
“No,
it isn’t.” He looked through another telescope.
“So
why do you stay on the job?”
“The
wage is low,” Chaim explained, “but the work is steady.”
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