Enrico begins to hum an offkey tune which sounds vaguely like a cross between Scarborough Fair and Lady Marmalade. Suddenly, Juan the goat, accompanied by a bustling crowd of cheering fans and burly minders sweeps close by Enrico.
...Juan! Juan my ol’ friend... we used to be kids together remember... hey wait up! Tell your big friends to let me through... come on pal, get outta my way... I gotta talk to the goat, he’s my bestest friend... LET ME THROUGH!!!
Enrico is knocked to the ground by one of the security team and the crowd tramples over him, as the group moves away the ragged, motionless form of the street preacher is left behind.
...ZZZK... "We'll be out of your way as soon as we can, sir, this is the swiftest way to get the heavy artillery to the front."
...ksst... "You don't fool me, you goddamn Communist! I knew this day would come! I am an American citizen and the Constitution you claim to have suspended protects me from the likes of you! One red-blooded American is worth ten o' you!"
Shots are fired from the ranch-house.
...VZZZ... "Artillery group to base, artillery group to base, there is a crazy person shooting at us with a defunct rifle. Please advise."
...ZZZK... "Base to artillery group, fire at will, repeat fire at will. Ensure safety of artillery."
There is a barrage of machine gun fire.
...kssst... "You fuckers! I'm hit! Aw, god I'm hit! Shows what YOU know! JESUS is gonna give me my reward in Heaven when you and your demon shadow lord are burnin' in HELL!"
Neville turns a red key in a makeshift control panel, and the buried explosives under the ranch are set off. The artillery unit sustains 64% casualties. Neville's Constitutional American Army - himself and his dog - sustain 100% casualties.
Illisozt cowers before the magician who gave him a good kicking the last time he summoned him.
Right, you remember me, so let's get this over with. What the hell is up with all these butterflies everywhere? I thought they were dead?
- Um, is that one question or two, I can only answer...
The magician cracks his knuckles and glares pointedly.
- They are those who were left behind as pupae when the rest of Laetatio's faithful went off to battle in Dream. They are journeying to the beautiful park which Arenmei has cratfed to remind them of their heritage.
Right, fair enough, so what about that other war memorial, I suppose that's Night's doing too?
- Yes, that is correct, oh wise one!
Don't suck up to me you little fucker!
He kicks the scrawny demon in the head, then twice more for good measure. - Ow, ow! Mercy, ow!
Okay mate, third question, now Night seems like a fairly sensible bloke, so why has his hulking black tower gone and grown limbs and a head? He's not planning on some kinda big Golem thing like those bleedin machine's of Kami's is he?
- Er... not as far as I know, you know I'm not really the one to ask about what the Gods are thinking, and I really must be getting back to...
The magician picks him up by the tail and glares again, his expression more pissed off than usual. Are you trying to tell me what to do you little shit?! Right, that's it, I've `ad enough of you!
Illisozt cowers in the corner while the magician gets out his notebook and flicks through it.
Oh yeah, been a while since I 'ad something fun to do.
He gets a nasty gleam in his eye.
Sorry, Illisozt, but your entrails are just too useful. The magic I could do with them... He checks the notebook again.
I command you by your True Name, which is...
Screams of pain echo through the building and far beyond.
This is the “What Do I Do Now?” Problem Hour and I’m Harry Cale, ready to take your calls. Okay, we’ve got a young man called Jeff who is apparently having relationship issues. Want to tell us about it, Jeff?
Err, yeah, hi Harry... umm, thing is, last night my girl Aileen an’ I were getting all intimate an we were jus’-
Keep in mind that this is a family show, Jeff...
Sorry, sorry. Anyhow we where just about to go to bed, you know? When outta nowhere this big black figure turns up, an’ it’s jus’ looking at us and we both sorta knew that we were gonna die... an then it left.
There is a prolonged silence from Harry’s end.
I’ll tell you Jeff, the very same thing happened to me an’ Mrs Cale last night. Takes the romance right out o' things, doesn’t it? Tell you what; let’s hear more about this from some other callers- anyone else having this problem?
Over the course of the next 20 minutes the tale of woe is repeated many times.
Wow! Seems like no one’s having a good time these days. Weird stuff folks, but I’m sure our friends from the K group will look into it when they get back from... News just in! It seems that the ‘verdant valley’, that tranquil little holiday spot near New Vegas, has been somehow ripped out of the ground. Reports from the area claim that a faceless man “pulled the valley out of the earth with his bare hands and shook it until all the troops relaxing there had fallen off”. The current location of the valley is unknown. More on this as it develops.
Anyhow, here in the Studio we’re apparently lucky enough to have a surprise visit by none other than Juan the Goat. Barry, if you’d just show Juan in here...
There are muted sounds of footsteps, a door opening and then a loud gunshot. There is the sound of a goat bleating in pain,
What the fu... oh Gods, it’s the Cockroach gang... help, help anyone near the KNNY building, please come and help now, the fuckers are killing us all!
Hey, boss, coast is clear...
My god... what the fuck... ladies and gentlemen, there is a motorcycle thug with a cockroach head in the studio...
Chittering, clacking voice: People of New York... You do not need to leave your room. Remain sitting at your table and listen. Do not even listen, simply wait. Do not even wait, be quiet still and solitary. The world will freely offer itself to you to be unmasked, it has no choice, it will roll in ecstasy at your feet.
Isn't that Kafka...?
There is another gunshot, and the cockroach-headed magus continues to recite Kafka to the East Coast for several hours, until local forces storm the building and despatch the Cockroaches.
"Quiet... quiet... I am not long for this world... I was foolish... forgot that some things can come through scrying pools... but let me tell you... what I saw...
"You know how when Artemisia escaped... she trapped all in Vegas on the thorns... and took Wen the Iron God from them... they had no hiding place, as you saw... when Mogget came with his winds... and the hurricanes cast down the tall buildings and songs of despair stole hope from the Unreal... and you saw, as did I, the hordes surrounding the city... the armies of Nihon, of the K Group, of Africa and of Grace. Tonight when I was watching the stars... I saw them all move to the west... and I knew they were preparing an attack - look, they are not yet returned... So I invoked the scrying pool to see... and Isis and the stars rained down on Vegas... there was no hope for those who were left... and when they left, they had killed most of the horde in Vegas, and yet still many persisted there...
"And it was Noon, and Fire-of-Noon was riding beside the Sun in his chariot... and she, the Sun, ever-haughty and imperious, rode on her unicycle... and Fire-of-Noon reached over and pushed the Sun... and the Sun fell on Vegas... oh, my eyes... please, invoke the pool again, tell me what has happened..."
"Yessir, right away." A spell is cast. It takes a while because the apprentice is crying. "I see... I see a plain of black glass. The Sun is returned to the sky. There are thorns growing through it, and half-embedded bodies and rubble. I see... I see the House of the Rising Sun, the only surviving casino... just the roof of it, jutting through the glass... lights are still on... Fire-of-Noon and Isis are before it, Fire-of-Noon conceding the Duel of Thunder to Isis.
"Wait, what's this? There must have been some survivors... the Unreal are coming from all around to Vegas, but the armies of the gods are leaving them alone... they are kneeling! They are kneeling before the throne! And there is a God on the throne - it must be a new one, I don't recognise it. It is commanding them... they are leaving the world of waking and returning to the Dream."
"Victory for the real... I can die without fear..." *He does so.*
I have seen strange and terrible things, brother. I walked in the forests, and saw that they were much changed.
- Walked in the forests? Was the Lady Artemisia not much displeased?
She was... distracted.
- Distracted, Dolfod? From her appointed duty to protect the deep places? It must be a weighty matter indeed to blind her to trespass.
Aye, distracted. She was busy exacting vengeance on the last God of the Iron Rule. You know how she is.
- Of course. The accursed Wen. Still, at least he is dead now.
Then you have not seen?
- Have not seen what, brother? It is you who travels abroad and watches events unfold. I merely sit and wait for your tidings. But you cannot tell me that Wen has survived the attentions of Artemesia?
Survived... perhaps not, but he has not died. Not him nor anybody else. Nothing is ending, brother. Lives, days, dreams and waking. Nothing has ended since the Unreal were bound.
- Nothing has ended? Surely this is not the case. Your last sentence, for example, ended in its normal place.
Brother, you understand little of the world. An ending is not the mere cessation of a thing of no consequence. A true ending must be the end of a thing that matters - of a life, of a love, of joy or of war.
The sentence, of course, have ended, but our friendship has not: because I speak to you as a comrade now, it is now inevitable that I will do so again, and again and again for ever and anon.
- So what means this for the forests?
That is a sorry tale. Artemesia had bound Wen to the very life of the forests, that he would survive her most hideous torments, but now the magician persists in his strange half-state, all the forests are affected. Bound to the flagging essence of a mortal magus, unable to die - and even you must know that death is ever a part of the forest brother - they change, become black and twisted and so unalike to what they were that even the things that dwell in the depths of the blackest woods are fleeing to more hospitable climes.
- You mean the things from the Deep Places are free?
Free, and roaming Kensington High Street in all of their fanged malevolance.
- Dire news brother, but what other calamities has this end-of-endings caused?
Day and night do not cease. The sun rises and sets over the americas, no sooner touching one horizon than appearing over the other. All of the rest of the world is shrouded in night unending, the first glimmer of dawn giving way to the last light of dusk with not a ray of sunshine in between.
- I may be less well travelled than you, brother, but I have delved into my own way into hidden and occult matters. If the night does not end then does this mean that the dwellers in darkness, the Udleili...
Walk again, Brother, through all the lands of the world, and those men not prepared for them now cower in their homes and tremble at the darkness. The Udleili claim their inheritance over half the world, and declare the end of the rule of humans over the nightside.
- Truly an age has passed. Where do you go now, brother?
Now I shall do as ever I have, and ever I shall. My wanderings will go on without end. Until the next time, brother.