Dan and Sarah spent some time filling them in on the real news. Dan told them about the penalties for overt dissent, and covert dissent, for that matter. Sarah told them that, really, there had been very few dissenters arrested because for the most part no one cared as long as they could keep watching NASCAR and buying shiny diversions on credit.
“Keep the masses entertained and they’ll stay docile,” Hep said. “That’s how it’s always been. The French Revolution would never have happened had the aristocrats made cable television available to the peasants. Nothing ever changes, except technology.”
Scroat and Pan had gone into town to pick up some food. They were leaving the tiny convenience store when they saw Thor waiting outside. He strode over to them, and enthusiastically shook hands with them. After pleasantries had been exchanged, Thor’s demeanor changed from jovial to conspiratorial.
“The time to fight has come,” he said.
Pan and Scroat looked at each other. They knew the shopkeeper, with nothing better to do in a town this tiny, was watching them through the window of his store. Every person in that town, actually, watched the three new comers living in the desert pretty closely. Hep, Scroat and Pan didn’t worry about them too much, because they knew the entire reason these people lived in a town so tiny was because they primarily wanted to be left the hell alone.
“Sounds like you’d better come out into the desert with us. It’s a little more private there.” Pan said.
Thor nodded, and walked with them. He offered to help carry the groceries, so Scroat handed Thor both bags he was carrying. Pan looked at Scroat sideways.
“What? The burly motherfucker offered to help out,” Scroat said.
The three of them hiked out to where Hep, Sarah and Dan were waiting. Hep was surprised and pleased to see Thor. Dan and Sarah were kind of numb from the strange tangent their life had taken, and were barely able to remember their manners when introduced to Thor.
Thor seemed right at home gathered around the firepit with the others. He pulled up a rock and got comfy. Dan wondered if Thor camped a lot, then remembered his basic Norse Mythology. Thor, Dan remembered, would be pretty comfy roughing it.
They cooked the sausages Pan and Scroat brought, and ate. Once they were finished, Thor mentioned that he could really use a beer.
“Say no more,” Hep said. Seconds later, an entire case of Pabst Blue Ribbon zipped into their campsite, skidding to a stop next to Hep.
“That’s a good trick,” Thor said, impressed.
“It’s not so great the third time you’ve seen it.” Scroat said. “You know, Hep, there’s now a beer-case sized whole in your garage door.”
“We don’t know that. I might not have a garage anymore,” Hep said.
“Right, that’s why I came,” Thor said. “The time to fight has come. Our friends and families are getting killed every day, and no one cares except for us.”
“How many others do you think we can gather?” Hep asked.
“Well, that sick fucker Ares will be in, for sure,” Scroat said.
“I don’t know how many will show up,” Thor said. “A lot of folks have gone into hiding, now that these sick bastards have gone international.”
“Then we will hope enough have the courage to help us,” Hep said. He stood up and began to walk away from the campsite.
“Where are you going?” Dan asked.
“There’s a pay phone outside the convenience store, I’ve got some calls to make.” Hep answered.
***
Hep knew that using the pay phone was risky. For one thing, private people or not, they locals didn’t have anything better to do than watch newcomers and report their activities to one another. Hep didn’t mind being talked about, but he was mildly concerned about giving the locals information that could be used to find him, or his friends, or his family, or any of the other gods for that matter.He also didn’t like making a whole bunch of phone calls to numbers that were likely being monitored from a rarely used payphone in a remote area. It seemed kind of obvious. He hoped his calls would be overlooked by the spooks tracking down his friends.
Not many of his calls went through. He reached a lot of answering machines that mechanically recited the number before telling him to leave a message. Several other phone numbers just rang and rang after he dialed them, with no answer. He did get through on a few numbers. The gods who answered, for the most part, told him they didn’t know who he was or what he was talking about. A few agreed to come meet with him.
After he’d called every one he knew, he hiked back to the campsite. He hoped that some of those who’d declined would show up anyway.
Some of the others had already arrived when Hep reached the campsite. Ares had been the first to arrive. He appeared very, very enthusiastic about the meeting. Ahayuta arrived next. Thoth and Sekhmet arrived together. Various others arrived over the next few hours, hiking, flying or just appearing.
The group was smaller than Hep would have liked, but there were enough to make a difference.
“Welcome, all. You already know why we’ve gathered. Now we need to decide what we’re going to do about this “New Paradigm” and their war against us,” Hep said.
“I said it before, and I’ll say it again,” Ares said. “We should track them down and kill them, then their families, then their friends and anyone else who happens to annoy us while we’re at it.”
This time there were some murmurs of agreement, instead of stunned silence. Given the number of war gods in attendance, Hep wasn’t surprised that “Kill them All” was the first plan suggested.
Thoth stood, cleared his throat and began speaking.
“If this Tim is now truly a deity himself, then he is subject to all of our common weaknesses. He needs someone to worship him, or he becomes as irrelevant as the rest of us. No one has gone to war in our names for a long, long time, because no one worships us any longer. Our myths have passed into fairy tale, as far as the majority of the world is concerned. Let us turn Tim’s followers away from him, as ours were turned from us,” Thoth said.
“Ok, but we’d better fucking hurry up,” Scroat said. “If we take a few hundred years, a lot more of us are going to be dead before Tim is forgotten. These people are moving quick.”
“How do you propose we turn Tim’s followers, Thoth?” Pan asked.
“I think we’re going to have to become rather familiar with those few people who still follow us. You can see two examples of the power a simple deck being built in response to a request right here,” Thoth said, and gestured towards Dan and Sarah. “Imagine what would happen if more and more miraculous happenings occurred. It will boost faith in those who haven’t turned to Tim yet, and those who do follow Tim will turn to us soon enough.”
Thoth stopped speaking, and waited for his idea to be considered. One by one the others agreed that they’d have to get very hands on, at least temporarily, with their few remaining followers.
Ares cleared his throat. “We still get to kill people and this Tim guy, right?”
Thoth chuckled and said, “Oh, why not? It’s been a while since any of us have really gotten to smite anyone. It’d probably be good to shake the cobwebs off.”
“Sweet,” Ares said, smiling broadly.
The meeting concluded, and the gods (plus Dan and Sarah) got down to the serious business of cooking and eating. Several of those who came to talk left the camp site minutes after eating. Ares, Thoth, Sekhmet and Ahayuta stayed late into the night, however. They were swapping stories that edged closer and closer to open lies when they heard rustling just outside of the light from the camp fire. The conversation stopped, and they all listened closely, expecting to hear an animal moving about.
Instead, track-suited goons swarmed out of the night into the light of the fire. By the time Dan and Sarah had registered the attack, Ares and Sekhmet had killed five of the attackers. Ahayuta joined the fray, as did Thor and Pan. Thoth, Scroat and Hep gathered around Dan and Sarah to defend them.
Ares and Sekhmet traded insults about the other’s fighting prowess and style.
“You call that a disemboweling?” Sekhmet asked Ares.
Atop a growing pile of carnage, Ares shot back “I’m sorry, I haven’t had time to linger over every little detail like some lazy daydreaming jerks I could mention.”
In a matter of minutes the fight was over. Hep and the others heard a couple of True Believers crashing and stumbling off into the desert.
The gods, except for Ares (whose post-battle actions and giggles were pointedly ignored by the rest), gathered back by the campfire.
“I guess they know we’re here,” Hep said. “We’d better move on.”
“Gee, ya think?” Scroat snapped.
They packed up their camp fairly quickly, and were nearly ready to smother the fire and get out of the area when Ares walked over to where they were, beaming with pride.
Hep looked at Ares, wary, and asked “What are you so tickled about?”
Ares chuckled a bit, then turned and made a grand gesture of presentation towards his handywork.
Spelled out in the remains of the True Believers was a taunt. “Tim, Fuck Off and Die!” it read.
“Say, that’s nice,” Scroat said. Ares bowed, and strode off into the night.
“Hep, you know how to reach me,” he said.
The rest of the gods looked at Ares’ latest work of art for a few minutes, before Ahayuta cleared his throat and said, “Well, that should piss Tim right the hell off.”
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