Scion of Trinity flew out of the Belt.
It wasn't obvious; you couldn't say in one moment 'we are in the Belt' and in the next 'we are not'. But as they flew Earthward, they saw fewer and smaller asteroids. Many of them were mined out by Earth's first solar mining magnates. There were probably the remains of many settlements here, left over from the days when the industry went farther out.
Paolaon sat up in the airlock, where she often went after her shifts in the cockpit.
"It's out there somewhere, isn't it?" came a voice over the sound of an opening hatch.
"Lloyd?" she inquired.
"You're thinking of them."
She settled her blue-haired head on her knee. "So what if I am."
Lloyd shook his head and smiled. "It's not an accusation."
They looked out on the stars and the Belt for a few minutes, thinking of their first encounter with one another.
***
"Dammit, we're losing them!" shouted Lloyd at a fellow Bryton, a woman with neck-length black hair and a green bandana. "Pull up!"
The woman pulled up on the control shaft, and out the windshield the bleak starscape of the Belt spun away as a silverish-looking Emeriquan-built ship followed another craft, painted black to camouflage itself against the void. Asteroids hurtled out the window, and the smaller ones often smacked against the hull.
"This isn't easy, Lloyd!" the woman shouted. "Next time we leave the Belt's trade lanes, I'll leave the steering to you!"
"Just keep that ship in sight, Raomi. A Scion-class is warking rare on the market. If we can take it over, we'll be rolleninit as the Yanks'd say."
"Provided that the yakuza don't kill us over it," remarked a man looking at the scanners.
Lloyd chuckled. "The yakuza? Please, they've wanted me marbles on a platter for years. It's nothing that an honest guy like you'd understand, Trev."
Raomi laughed as well. "Yeah, I never did get what you were doing with a pack of buccies in the first place."
"It was for the near-death experiences," remarked the blond-haired man.
"Koose, I can't see 'em! Trev, ya got anything on the scans?" Raomi demanded. Trev answered, "I've got an energy signature inside a hollowed-out asteroid."
"Too bril! They're cornered!" proclaimed Lloyd, pounding his fist on his armrest. "Trev, get ready to deploy those drones! Bloody things cost us damn well enough, but for a
Scion-class it's worth it."
Their silver ship spun around, facing the black vessel down.
"Wait, I'm reading a second energy signature, Lloyd," Trev reported. "It's well-concealed, better even than the Scion-class."
"Shine the brights and release the drones. Maybe this is what those spooks are after."
The ship's lights activated, revealing an odd-looking purplish-goldish craft training what might be weapons on the Scion-class.
"This makes things a lot more complex," Lloyd decided. "Hail the Scion-class on the police band."
"Hello?" came the speakers as a vidscreen lowered from the ceiling, displaying the face of an agent of the SAS. "You are the pirates that have chased us for half an aster, I presume?"
"Too right, mate. I'm Lloyd ap Dhia, buccielord of the 'rivateer Marrakesh. As you can see, we can outgun you."
"What do you want from us?" asked the agent. "Quite frankly, we're a little busy here."
"We want the Scion-class. We don't want to hurt you."
The agent started chuckling.
"Hurt us? We're stronger than you think. Do you think Her Majesty hasn't loaded this thing to the teeth with weapons?"
"I'm sure of it, because I've seen the specs. Hence the extra wardrones to outclass you. You're not bluffing us away from this catch. Just prepare to be boarded and we'll drop you off anywhere in the Inner System."
"Okay. How does Scotland Yard work for you?" snapped the agent. "Or how about we'll drop you off there ourselves after we're done here."
"Trev, shoot off their cannons. We'll have to repair them before resale, but it's better than leaving empty-handed."
"You're going to make me blast you out of the caels?" the agent asked. "Fine; in any case we're done here, and may God have mercy on your eternal souls. Out."
The screen blinked out, and it folded back up to the ceiling as the Marrakesh sent out a signal to its drones to fire away at the twin guns of the Scion-class. That they did.
The laser barrage never actually struck the ship; the lasers actually bent away from the Scion-class.
"Trev? Raomi? What in horned Lucy's own fire is that!?"
They were both speechless as the Scion-class leveled its twin Penance II cannons at the Marrakesh and let loose. Explosions ripped the surface of the hull, and they saw the front half of the cockpit tear away from over them. The three of them grabbed onto whatever they could to keep from being sucked out into space.
"Guys, this is it!" shouted Lloyd, his voice growing fainter as the air drained away. "It was great!"
"See you in Hell, Lloyd!" shouted Raomi. "Oi Trev, remember us when you're in Heaven!"
Trev nodded, smiling emptily as his form seemed to dissolve in sparkles.
"Wha-" began Raomi as both her and Lloyd dissolved in a similar fashion.
***
"I still don't know how that ship could have held an entire teleportation device," Lloyd mused. "If it was just a receptor, well, they can stick those things on microchips. But a sender...?"
Paolaon remained silent.
"But I suppose I'm looking a gift mystery in the knowledge," Lloyd conceded. "I'm just glad I didn't die on that fool stunt; else I'd be really dead."
"Were you a fool back then?" Paolaon asked. "Sometimes I hear you and Deac reminisce about the days with Raomi and Trev. You always get this wistful look in your eye whenever her name is mentioned."
"Do I?" replied Lloyd. "She was important to me."
"You have that look right now," she said. "Maybe if those days were that serious, it wasn't all foolishness?"
Lloyd shook his head. "I was the biggest fool in the caels. But what I did... it was serious. I'm glad about one thing I did back then, though."
"Oh?"
"That I ever pursued Scion of Trinity in the first place. It brought me so much more than a price on the Jovian black market."
Paolaon smiled, briefly. "I am glad, too... if it wasn't for this ship, I would never have met you and Deac... and even little Amber."
"Are we that important to you?"
"To be honest... sometimes I wonder if I would be better off without you all, if one day I will mourn your deaths and be wounded so. After all, piracy is a risky business; and with Amber onboard you chance the personal wrath of the strongest man in the caels." Tears started streaming down the face of the hardened woman, and she removed her opticles to wipe them away. Without them, her pupils stared aimlessly into space.
"But...?"
"But then I think that, in the end, were pain to ever come from our meeting, it would only mean that I am human after all. And that makes me happy."
Lloyd couldn't help but smile at that.
***
"What in the six worlds of man!?" demanded Lloyd as he found himself in complete darkness.
"Lloyd?" called out a voice. "Is that you?"
"Raomi?" he asked. "Are you in here?"
"Is this Hell?" she demanded.
"I heard once that Hell was pitch-black," Lloyd noted.
"Lloyd, I'm coming towards you."
He felt Raomi bump into him, and they embraced.
"We have bodies," he noted. "And it's warm in here. If this is Hell, it's Heaven to me because I can spend all eternity with you."
She cried into his chest, and he felt her whimpering and treasured the contact.
"I-I wish I could see your face," she said. "Then we could be complete."
"I suppose Trev is in Heaven, then?" he pondered.
"That's what he would want," Raomi agreed. "He's the sort that needs a paradise to be built for him, you know? I truly hope that he has happiness, though, wherever he is."
"He was a good guy," agreed Lloyd. "I hope he got Heaven."
"We'll never know for sure, though," she said.
"Lloyd? Raomi?" came a voice neither of them knew, in an accent never before heard by either ear. "Name of you?"
"Who's there?" asked Lloyd. "Are you a dead human, or a demon?"
"I is Paolaon. You is Lloyd?"
"Are you a human or a demon?" asked Lloyd again.
"Yes."
"What is that supposed to mean?" he demanded.
"No understand question."
He shook his head in exasperation. "What do you want from us?"
"Other hunt Paolaon. Other know Paolaon. Paolaon want hide."
"Are you saying that someone's trying to find you?"
"Other try death Paolaon."
"We're dead, though," he said. "Nobody can die twice, so you're okay."
"Monitor say Lloyd and Raomi and Paolaon is alive."
Lloyd blinked. "Where's Trev?"
"Trev is cockpit. You is storage."
"We're on your ship?" he asked. "Wait a minute, the weird dematerialization thing! You teleported us here!"
"Yes."
"So what about the Scion-class?"
"Scion-class is name of hunt ship?"
"Yes, yes," he nodded. "What happened to it?"
"Scion-class near ship."
"Why did you save us?"
"I need people of Earth as guide. I need understand Earth, understand human. Human on Scion-class hunt Paolaon. Lloyd and Raomi and Trev no hunt Paolaon."
"We're the first people you think you can trust."
"Paolaon can trust?"
"Yes, but we have a condition to taking you in."
"Yes?"
"Give us the Scion-class. Our ship was destroyed."
"Lloyd ship no Paolaon."
"Huh?" asked Lloyd.
"I think she said yes, love," Raomi whispered in his ear.
"Now, what weapons do you have?" Lloyd asked.
"Paolaon have no weapon."
"Could you lead us to the cockpit?" he asked.
"Yes. Follow me."
"We can't see you. There's no light."
"Light? What is light?"
"Are you blind?" inquired Raomi. "Have you never seen the light of the sun?"
"Ah. Light is radiation no hurt. Yes?"
"Right. Lead us to the cockpit by the hand then, if you know where we are."
She did that, taking Lloyd's hand. When he felt her hand, it felt human-but oddly cold. He grabbed Raomi's and she led the way to the cockpit.
"Lloyd? Raomi?" called out Trev. "Is that you?"
"Trev!" Raomi exclaimed. "We thought we were in Hell."
"We might be soon. The Scion-class has been blasting this thing incessantly since we arrived."
"How come we haven't felt anything?"
"It hasn't been doing major damage. The defenses on this thing far surpass anything else flying the caels."
"Lloyd have thought save Paolaon?" asked Paolaon.
"I just might. About that teleporter thing..."
***
Paolaon allowed herself a laugh at her own expense.
"I had been studying the Angol language for about three weeks when I met you," she remembered. "I could barely speak it. It's a miracle you understood a word I said."
"You've mastered it, though," Lloyd marveled. "I can't even detect an accent anymore. What accent was that, anyway?"
"If I told you, you wouldn't believe me. If you believed me, well... I'd rather not say, in any case."
They were silent for a while.
"Almost everything about you is a mystery, Paolaon. Certainly you can understand our curiosity?"
She put her opticles back on so she could see the stars.
"Yes, because I have always been curious. Everything fascinates me, just as much as Scion of Trinity fascinated you when you first set foot on it."
"Speaking of ships, I wish I knew more about yours. That thing was like a tank."
"For your sake, I am glad it was destroyed."
"Another mystery?"
"Yes."
***
They were agents of the SAS, the Queen's front-line soldiers in the war of secrets. Their particular division was responsible for paranormal investigations, earning them the nickname "Demonhunters" from other divisions. Their sleek vessel, Scion of Trinity, was meant for speed and stealth for handling cases throughout the caels. They were successful, their list of accomplishments long and impressive, and just as soon as it was declassified they would all become heroes to all Brytannia. But that would never happen.
"Sodding ship!" cursed the helmsman. "It's just absorbing it!"
"Why don't they fire back?" inquired the tactical officer.
Suddenly, the sound of molecular reassembly at the speed of light greeted their ears, and Lloyd, Trev, Raomi, and Paolaon held the SAS at gunpoint.
"This is our ship now, mates," Lloyd declared. "I'd kill you right now, but as a thief I'm told I should have some sort of honour or something. Does this rig have an escape pod?"
"Stand down, men," the commander ordered. "They have us at a disadvantage." The SAS backed away from their controls.
"Well?" demanded Lloyd. "An escape pod, or do we have to drag your sodding secret agent selves to the nearest port?"
"There are three fold-out escape pods in the cargo bay, one for each of us," the commander informed. "They will fit through the airlock, but they have no thrusters and just a day's worth of air."
"Then we'll jettison you on a trade lane where your distress call will be heard and responded to quickly. Where's the nearest city?"
"That would be the Doytschterri city of Ironbund," answered Raomi. "The Doytschterri government is friendly enough to Brytannia that they won't be summarily shot for being spies, but hostile enough that they won't be going home to tell about the missing Scion-class anytime soon."
"Perfect," Lloyd said. "We'll put you there. Until then, cuff them and put them in cargo. I want to check out my new digs."
"This is unacceptable!" shouted the tactical officer. "I'm gonna use it! They can kill me, but the buggers'll bleeding pay!"
"No!" ordered the commander . "Stand down, you fool!"
Raomi shot the tactical officer in the back and he coughed blood as he collapsed to the floor, a dead man.
An energy surge was heard as the Scion-class powered up a mysterious weapon. It seemed to be the same thing that had deflected the lasers from the Marrakesh. It started folding Paolaon's craft in on itself.
"What in horned Lucy's own fire!?" demanded Lloyd.
"A gravitron beam," explained the commander. "But it's never been tested against something as massive as a ship..."
The lights flickered out as all available energy went to the gravitron beam. Finally, as the ship was collapsed into something about half the size of a shoe, the sound of breaking machinery and alarms came from below.
"Bloody fool," spat the commander. "It's broken. Oh well, at least scum like you will never use it."
***
"What the deuce is all this?" asked Lloyd when he saw it.
The commander's quarters were filled with various bottles, candles, and a silver crucifix lay on the bed.
"Oh bollocks," moaned Raomi. "They were Vir."
"Vir?" asked Lloyd. "What is that?"
"It's something of a Xristion apocalyptic magic cult, but that's simplifying it. Many people don't think they exist, and the Vatican denies it."
"How do you know about this?" he asked. "And does that mean that they're Catholic?"
"No. Trev was telling me about it, that there was some sort of a Xristion-Communist-Idealist-Illuminati conspiracy or something. You know Trev, though-he's a conspiracy nut. I didn't believe him, but now that I see a sharpened silver crucifix-supposedly the symbol of the Vir, I don't know."
"So this probably means that the SAS was allied with the Vir."
"You'd have to talk to Trev."
"Do the Vir have any real power?"
"If they didn't, do you think that the strongest imperium in the caels would be interested?"
***
Trev knew a little about the artifacts in the room. It turned out that they were of the Vir, and that rumor had it that not only Brytannia but at least Emeriqua, Israel and Rhuska maintained contingents of supernatural warfare experts.
"This is big," noted Lloyd when they were gathered together.
"I believe that Vir is a important thing in quest," Paolaon said. "I cannot explain... something resonates. It repulses half of I and draws the other."
"I see you've taught her the concepts of personal pronouns and conjugations," noted Raomi. "But... I dunno. What you plan to do with this, L?"
"We could blackmail the SAS into giving us money," Trev noted. "They'd want this covered up."
"An easier way to cover this up would be to send a dreadnought to help us get in touch with our inner corpses," replied Lloyd. "I'd just as soon have that not happen."
"We should learn to do what they do," decided Paolaon. "We could become Vir."
Lloyd was about to open his mouth in protest, but then he thought about that.
"Vir... Trev, what do you know about the Vir?"
"They were founded after the Third Revival and before the Idealists as an attempt to reconcile earlier, magic-like Xristion superstition-things like exorcism, blessings, healings, and the like-with modern belief. They were, in essence, a Xristion answer to the Pagano-Wiccan renaissance fifty years earlier, one that left completely intact the Third Revival Xristion emphasis on justification by faith, sola scriptura, and missions while reintroducing the mystical. Their founder, a mythical figure known as St. Phillip of the Stone, was reviled by fundamentalist factions of both Xristioneiea and Pagano-Wicca."
"What about after Idealism?" asked Lloyd.
"Well, the dominant faith of the Idealist era was still, barely, Xristioneiea. After the war came a feeling that the Judeo-Xristion God had abandoned them, and the Pagano-Wiccan renaissance dominated. Angleterre worshipped Wotan, Frantia revered Matrona, et cetera et cetera. With that, and with a general distrust and scorn of Xristioneiea, the estimated remaining five percent of the West that was still Xristion went underground. In Afraga, India and Zhongua, though, the ancient gods were abandoned and Xristioneiea was adopted by the population at large."
"That's fine, but we're talking about the Vir."
"Ah, yes. Xristioneiea and the Vir existed in both areas, but the Vir tended to be more durable in the faith and they weathered the Western falling away easily where their simply Xristion brethren didn't. So, in the West, Xristioneiea was heavily influenced by Viri ideals and the East followed suit. This led to a worldwide increase in Viri membership and support."
"Obviously, something had to have happened."
"It did. The historical record, which admittedly is a little sketchy, say that there were several Viri throughout the world that grew incredibly powerful. They were supposedly able to do miracles. The Western world grew afraid of them and anti-Viri laws were passed throughout the West and the Xristion East even started growing a little suspicious. St. Phillip was martyred in the streets of Lontyn by a fearful mob. After that, the society of Xristion spellcasters was never heard from again-at least not until today. They're viewed by a lot of people like a successor group to the Illuminati or Masons, but there are, ironically, quite a few fundamentalist Xristions nowadays that will defend their legacy while they still revile the other two groups."
Lloyd nodded. "Miracles, huh? Who wrote those histories? Xristions?"
"Actually, L, it was the Pagans."
Lloyd shot his eyebrows up in surprise. "Do you know someone who might know some more about this?"
Trev nodded. "Actually, yeah-there's a guy in the Jovian city of McCartney that everyone calls Deacon. He's a religious history expert of sorts-and he claims to have a first-edition copy of The Christomantic Convocation and to be able to perform Viri spells and such."
"Deacon, eh?" pondered Lloyd. "Maybe when he sees this stuff we could talk him into becoming a member of the crew."
***
"My world changed when I met Deac," recalled Lloyd. "There's so much stuff that I learned from him... stuff I still learn from him. I was just another pirate in the caels, though, when I went to Pepperterre District."
"Pepperterre..." recalled Paolaon. "That's where our heroin fence used to live. Before the Triad caught up to him, at least..."
"Just thank Xristos that the yakuza have been too busy slipping under Uncle Cristobal's nose to kill us. But yeah, Pepperterre... The Emeriquan End is always a barrelful of monkeys, and having shot the police chief in that doomed arms deal a year before didn't help any, either."
"But Deac... I remember when you guys still called him Deacon."
Lloyd chuckled.
***
McCartney was an interesting place. It was founded by the Crown of Brytannia during the Areswar as a resupply base for the legendary Seventeenth Royal Stellar Fleet and was named after the favorite musician of the fleet's admiral. After the Bradbury Accord, though, it was demilitarized and used to mine the hydrogen and helium so abundant in the Jovian atmosphere. With over seven hundred million inhabitants, it was the largest city in the Outer System and the shining jewel of the Queen's colonial imperium.
At the corner of Spiegel and Falcon was the unofficial boundary of the Emeriquan End. Originally settled by a community of fifty thousand Stellevoir veterans who had managed to survive the Areswar, it had grown into a vibrant community, vibrant to the point of occasional streetwars with Araviatown and Little Tokyo. In any case, the residents were hard-working and generally prosperous, but in the shady alleyways and especially the border streets with Little Tokyo, crime had a solid place.
As Lloyd walked down the street with Trev, he looked at the steelglass above, and the starfreighters that constantly went to and fro. He unconsciously fidgeted with the silver crucifix in his pocket, thinking to himself of the estranged concept of God that it represented.
"Isas a damn brave man, Lloyd ap Dhia," came a voice from the alleyway. "Showen your face this circa to yakuza terre, isas brave or stupid."
"Nice to see you, Liv o my picket."
The voice from the alleyway stepped forward, revealing a dashing blond man wearing denim. "I told you I hate that word. Picket, or fence. Not both."
"It's so aggravating that you'll actually speak the Queen's own instead of that Yankee garble, eh?" inquired Lloyd.
"Let's talk business, Lloyd. After all, I have to make me a living."
"Business. I don't have a mite of the pretty pretty H on me, Liv."
"What do you have, then?" asked Liv.
"An SAS spycraft and a load of questions."
"Way too hot for even me, Lloyd. MI5 has been snooping around my neighborhood as it is; they'll shoot me for a traitor if I touch this."
"All right then. Tell me if you know anyone with thicker gloves."
Liv shook his head. "Gloves don't even begin to describe this. You might find a buyer in Emeriqua, but out here the Areswar still echoes. Besides, selling the Queen's own under the Union Jack is a tad touched, you ask me."
Lloyd shrugged. "Well, we did lose the Marrakesh..."
Liv's eyebrows jumped. "You lost the Marrakesh!?"
Lloyd nodded. "We lost it during the fight for the spycraft, and we were planning on selling the spycraft and using the money to get a better ship and maybe invest in some legit business."
Liv laughed. "Caelotrash like you will always be illegal. I can't fence the spycraft, but I'll give you some free advice."
"What?"
"Keep this spycraft. You need a ship, and the SAS must have loaded this thing to bear. Plus, you'll be the only buccielord in the caels with something like it."
Lloyd agreed with the assessment. "I think I will. I gotta catch up with Trev now-we've got a guy named Deacon to talk to."
"Deac? What in horned Lucy's own fire does he cognie? What was on that ship?"
Lloyd shook his head. "That's a secret."
"You can tell a friend."
"Hmmm..." pondered Lloyd. "I'm not quite sure, myself. But the spycraft's name was Scion of Trinity."
"That-that was the title of Saint Triste of Jacago..." gasped Liv. "Do you mean... Vir?"
"That's a secret," Lloyd replied. "I'm off." And he continued down the street, catching up to Trev.
***
The Deacon's apartment was at the end of a decrepit alley, filled with broken needles and neon signs from the street-level bars and whorehouses. Rusted junk and motorcycle parts were pushed to the walls, and the stars were overhead as always.
"Sodding awful place for a Deacon to live," noted Lloyd. "This is caelotrash paradise."
As they ascended the steps to the Deacon's apartment, the door opened.
"Trev told me you were coming. You are Lloyd ap Dhia?" greeted the man, who looked in his thirties and wore a brown bomber jacket.
"None other," acknowledged Lloyd. "You are the Deacon?"
"Call me Deac," he replied. "Everyone else does. Come on in, both of you, and we can discuss matters."
They stepped inside, and Lloyd registered a musty smell, immediately explained by the tomes legion on the many shelves that dotted the small apartment. Also, in a corner was a bright light, under which herbs grew.
"This is my humble abode, o my buccies," Deac nodded. "So, you want to know about the Vir."
"We know about the Vir," Trev said. "I filled him in. We want to become Vir."
Deac chuckled. "So do I. That's been the goal of my entire life, to recreate the mystic powers of old. I've pored over the Wyrdikaud, the Tanach, the Torah-and I've started making some progress. A year ago I found a copy of The Christomantic Convocation in an excavation of a library in Savra Sesko."
Lloyd nodded. "I've heard all this. What do you do for a living, Deac?"
"Odd jobs. I've taught, I did archaeology a bit when I lived in Emeriqua and the Incan Imperium, and I've even dabbled in botany a bit."
"Botany?" Trev asked. "I didn't know anything about that."
"It was an outgrowth of my study of the Vir. Their Vespers often call for strange or rare herbs. I collected everything I'd need for that on Earth, and I found a flower working on a dig in Tegucigalpa that was used by Preideliz society to cure AIDS. I sold some samples to a Scandinavian pharmaceutical company for several million pounds and I've been living on that for the past few years."
"How would you like to work for us?" Lloyd asked.
"What's the pay look like?"
"An equal share in my crew's profits and all you have to do is teach us everything you know about Xristomancy. Oh, and you might have to shoot a gun once in a while."
Deac chuckled. "I take it you buccies are on the wrong side of the law?"
"Are buccies ever on the right? We don't do anything horrible-we're just peaceful arms and heroin smugglers. But we don't kill people or anything. Unless they're trying to kill us. Or steal from us."
Deac shook his head. "And you folks want to be Vir."
"Well, didn't the Xristos hang out with the caelotrash of his day? We can change."
"Can you now. Well, I'll tag along, but make it a one-and-a-half share. Try to keep me out of any actual fighting, too."
Lloyd nodded. "You've got yourself a deal."
***
Sweat cascaded down Lloyd's face. All around him was melted electronics and the stench of burning plastic. Nipponese men in business suits with sunglasses held Perditors out at him, and he was tied up to a pole in a warehouse.
"We'd like to know the identity of Silent Partner, Mr. ap Dhia," a voice called out. "Tell us who he is and where he's hiding, and we will let you die painlessly."
Inside his head, Lloyd was cursing to himself, God, Lucifer, Xristos, Allah, Buddha, Krishna, and any other figure of reverence he could dredge up from memory. He never before thought that he was about to die, and the thought filled him with dread.
He was also slightly pensive about getting Deac mixed up in this, and definitely Raomi. Raomi was on the next pole over, bound in a similar fashion. The fact that they were about to die together was his only comfort-he had imagined that their souls would always be together in this life and the next. He recalled the time that they had lost the Marrakesh, and how they were in heaven in Hell together for a moment.
He wished he had some of the powers that Deac did with the whole Vir thing, but he couldn't make heads or tails of it. He chalked it up to his evil pride, and his solid grounding in a world where trust had no wings. He was too short for that world in any case, so he finally decided to forgo that evil pride and commend his soul to the Xristos.
Better than begging the yakuza for mercy, he figured.
"Well, Lloyd? Who is Silent Partner?"
A change seemed to come over him. His grimace faded, and a smile dawned on his features. "Silent Partner is my friend and comrade, and I would never betray him to the likes of you. But that's irrelevant anyway, because you're gonna let me go and I'm gonna refrain from killing you all."
"Oh we are, are we? I rather think we've got you over a barrel as far as death is concerned. But we're not interested in your pathetic attempts to bargain for your life."
"Who said anything about bargaining?" asked Lloyd as he bowed his face down and started incanting a Vesper that Deac had tried to teach him.
"'A fire goes before him, and burns up his enemies round about,'" incanted Lloyd as the fires from the melting electronics flared up and engulfed the yakuza. They all dove to the ground, throwing down their Perditors to pat out the flames.
"'He sets the prisoner free.'" At that, Lloyd's ropes fell to the floor, and he walked over and calmly unbound Raomi's hands. She squirmed as he approached.
"What in the caels are you doing, Lloyd?"
"I get this whole Xristomancy thing, Raomi. Let's get out of here, okay?"
"Why aren't you gonna take their guns and heroin first?"
"It's not ours."
"When has that stopped you before?"
The voice came on. "What did you do to my men?"
"I did nothing. The Xristos, on the other hand, well, he burned them."
The voice fell silent as Lloyd walked boldly from his captivity.