Chapter Nine

The Enemies

The child of Jotunheim and of Asgard strode through the nocturnal streets of Washington, D.C., feeling every bit a god. He kept the scepter concealed beneath his cloak, until an opportune time. During the night, with the scepter hidden, he faced neither contempt nor fear from the children of Midgard. Some of them saw him and walked away, probably thinking him a human bereft of reason. As they were themselves. They worried themselves with iPads, jobs, loves, while their world was thin as paper, waiting to be pierced by awful terrors. What madness but that?

He left the city and walked below the feeble stars of this tidy world. A very cradle it was, a tender shelter for the weak and unworthy. They knew nothing of the endless fight against the ancient dark, they whose lives were built around the kindness of their universe—thankless, thoughtless, infantile as they were. But he, powerful son of the Nine Realms, would show them true power.

These were the thoughts of Loki as he made his way to the west and to the south, beyond the false and manmade lights of the vainglorious city. He found the citadel of his allies. The base lay close to the ground, hugging the cold earth and hiding from unwary eyes. He knew that somewhere a human was proud of this construction—absurdly proud of a little concrete and metal, believing it protection. To him, it looked as feeble as a piece of bread, not built of the stuff of Asgard or the strong rocks of Jotunheim. He could, if it pleased him, blow the walls to the ground with a touch of his scepter. He wondered whether his allies knew this, whether they knew just how slight and poor they looked in his eyes. Their apish posturing gave no sign that they did. Indeed, they might even think that they could threaten him, that they could make him fear them—fools that they were.

There was none of them whom he feared, none—none except for that one who had summoned him. That one was different. He gave cautious thought to that human, as he made his plans.

Loki knocked on the door.

Inside the base, the security guard heard it and started from his relaxed posture. He pulled a lever, and a camera turned to capture Loki in its sights. When the guard recognized the tall, cloaked figure, he punched in a code which unlocked the door. Loki must have heard the door unlock, because the guard saw him reach forward and open the door.

Further inside the base, six men sat around a cherry table. It was illuminated by a fine replica of a Tiffany lamp, and upon it sat a decanter and several heavy glasses. From this table to the plush carpet to the light and tasteful wallpaper, the room seemed a perfect setting for the sounds of Bach's first cello suite, which played from a player in the corner.

When Loki entered, the men put down their glasses. They rose in respect and sat back down as Loki made a grand motion with his hand.

"Friends, I return to you," said Loki. "I have walked the streets of this capitol to survey the glories of the Earth, the glories of America." He paused.

One of the men asked, "And what did our illustrious guest think of our glories?"

"There is much to be built up, much to be refined. Much to be changed. But you are growing in strength, you are growing in wisdom—strength like the strength of Thor, wisdom like the wisdom of Odin." Inwardly, Loki laughed to himself. By this similitude, he had at once made a mockery of the humans and of his older enemies.

They did not yet see it. They looked relieved and pleased, simpletons that they were.

"Truly, this world should not perish. Truly, I shall do my part to save the children of men. Truly, together, we will stem the oncoming tide."

From the corners, from the shadows, came the sound of slow applause. A single pair of hands.

"Oh, that's cute," said the voice from the corner. "That's really precious. It's almost too much to take."

The six men at the table looked nervous again. They clearly thought that the seventh man might upset their guest. Loki turned to look at the man in the shadows. The only one in the room who caused him fear. But he could not reveal this fear to the other six; he must leave the pride upon his face.

"I speak from the heart," he said to the man in the corner.

"Oh, I don't doubt it, Loki. It's touching, really." The man clearly did not believe Loki. He was lying, one lie for another. "And you are doing your part. Even if you were lying to us, even if you didn't want to save the Earth, that's what you're doing. And I thank you for that."

An insolent slave—what was worse than that? This one would suffer greatly, once his power was taken away. "I am always at your command," said Loki to the insolent slave.

"I'm counting on it. Everyone has to do their part. Sharing the load, it's the only way to go." The man in the corner took out a piece of string and began playing cat's cradle with it. "What else, boys? What further updates do we have?"

One of the men at the table spoke, a small muscular man. He was cautious. He had considered reminding the man in the corner who was working for whom, that they were the commissioners of the grand design and he was but the architect. But he had thought it best to wait until Loki was gone. Reprimands were best administered in safety. Still, he could do something to show Loki that they respected him. "Everything else is in place. And I'm sure I need not remind anyone here that Lord Loki is not our servant, as he so graciously pretends to be. It is we who are his. We are endlessly indebted to him for the services which he has performed, and we depend upon those which he has promised."

"You are too kind," said Loki. There was, then, at least one human here willing to give proper homage, either through true respect or through fear. It mattered not. Either sentiment was appropriate.

The man in the corner spoke again, as if the previous comments had not been made and he was resuming his previous questioning. "Any more word from Crooked Man?"

"Yes, something unexpected." This time it was another man at the table, a plump man with a hooked nose. "One of the consultants they've called in is working for us. Well, he's working for our people overseas."

"A double agent? Who is it, then?" asked the man in the corner.

"Black Sheep," said the plump man.

"Black Sheep?" The man in the corner almost stopped his game of cat's cradle. "That's interesting. Hmm, very interesting indeed."

"You don't believe it? Our informant has been right every time so far."

"Oh, I didn't say I disbelieve. I just said it was interesting. No need to get excited, friend."

"Who is this Black Sheep?" asked Loki. "Shall I find him and reveal his secret thoughts?"

"No," said the man in the corner. "Your services are not needed. Crooked Man has been right so far, I see no reason to stop trusting him. After all, Black Sheep is a very intelligent person, perfectly capable of appreciating our mission. If you opened his mind, that might spoil his role as a double agent."

"Should we establish contact then?" asked the plump man. "He's in the very heart of their headquarters right now. He could give us a lot of information."

"Our little birdie can give us more of that than anyone else. Whenever he doesn't, that's because he has to protect himself or because it would spoil our plan. We'll let Black Sheep wait until we can use him. But we'll keep some agents tracking him, too." The man finished a surprisingly complicated pattern with the string. He held up his fingers to display it. "There! What do you think of that? Pretty cool, huh?" He chuckled. "Oh, you should see your faces!"