"Hmmm," said Mercury, "I did mention something about the Apocalypse."

"And what was that, back there? I mean, am I wrong or did Karl float float into the backseat of my rental car?" into the backseat of my rental car?"

"Minor miracle," said Mercury. "All cherubim can do them. a.s.suming there's no interference, that is. I'm surprised they let me get away with two of them. Maybe they didn't have time to trace me after the first one."

"Two miracles?"

"Yeah, the first was more impressive, really. That second bullet was headed straight for "

"And what are you doing doing here, anyway? If you didn't want to be involved in the Apocalypse, why are you hanging out with me and Karl the Antichrist, playing with your magic box?" here, anyway? If you didn't want to be involved in the Apocalypse, why are you hanging out with me and Karl the Antichrist, playing with your magic box?"

"The Apocalypse isn't like jury duty, Christine. I can't just opt out because I don't feel like playing."

"So you're just along for the ride?"

"Something like that. You're a fun person to hang out with. Besides, if you're going to risk your neck to do something stupid like save d.i.c.kweed here from a.s.sa.s.sination, I feel obligated to keep you from getting yourself killed."

"Hey," said Karl, from the backseat. "What the h.e.l.l?"

"None of this makes any sense to me," Christine said.

"Did you expect it to?" Mercury asked.

"It's just..." Christine said. "I pictured the Apocalypse being more..."

"Organized?"

"Well, yes. Isn't there supposed to be a more structured timetable? Rivers of blood, that sort of thing? I mean, what does this guy, Karl, have to do with anything?"

Karl sat up, still rubbing his head. "Did you hit me with your car? I think I've got whiplash. It hurts like a mother "

"He's the Antichrist," explained Mercury. "Can't have an Apocalypse without an Antichrist. That would be like The King and I The King and I without Yul Brynner." without Yul Brynner."

"Yul Brynner died in 1985."

"And it hasn't been the same since, has it?"

"Okay, but this guy is clearly not the actual Antichrist. Look at him."

Karl was a heavy-set, balding man in his late thirties, with pasty skin and a dull look in his eyes. He had the look of someone who spent most of his time playing video games in his mother's attic, probably because he did, in fact, spend most of his time playing video games in his mother's attic.

"What are you, r.e.t.a.r.ded?" said Karl. "Everybody knows I'm the Antichrist. And guess what, now the Antichrist is going to sue you for hitting him with your stupid car and then kidnapping me, I mean him. Who are you people anyway?"

"She's a reporter," said Mercury. "She's doing a story on you."

Christine started, "No, we're taking you "

"And what happened back there? I don't even remember...."

"You pa.s.sed out back at Charlie's Grill," said Mercury. "Must have been the heat."

"Where's my friggin' helmet? I only have six of those, you know." He was peering at Christine in the rear-view mirror. "Your face is kind of weird."

"We're taking you home, Karl," Christine said.

"For the interview," said Mercury. "We're going to interview you at home."

Christine turned to Mercury. "Why are you doing this?"

"You are a reporter, right? Karl here is a big story. Even bigger now that someone has tried to kill him."

Christine muttered, "Why would anyone want to kill him him?"

"Kill who?" asked Karl.

"'Kill who?'" repeated Christine incredulously. "Don't you know what "

"Charlie Nyx," interjected Mercury. "There's a plot to kill Charlie Nyx."

"Well, duh," said Karl. "The Circle of Seven was exposed at the end of Charlie Nyx and the Flaming Cup Charlie Nyx and the Flaming Cup. The Urlocks wanted to kill Charlie so that..."

"Shhhh!" Mercury said. "Christine hasn't read The Flaming Cup The Flaming Cup yet. Don't spoil it for her." yet. Don't spoil it for her."

"You haven't read... Have you read any any of the Charlie Nyx books?" of the Charlie Nyx books?"

"She's a journalist. Not much of a reader."

"That's me," said Christine. "If it weren't for my duties chauffeuring the Antichrist to and from a.s.sa.s.sination attempts, I'd never lift my knuckles off the ground at all."

"So she's a reporter," said Karl. "Who are you?"

"Well," Christine began. "He's an angel...."

"Agent," Mercury said. "She means agent. I'm here to talk to you about doing a cameo in the next Charlie Nyx movie. Name's Mercury."

"Mercury? Is that Jewish or something?"

"Yes, exactly," Mercury said. "I'm a six foot four Jew with silver hair. Just like Jesus."

"What about my car?" said Karl. "You can't just leave my car at Charlie's Grill."

"Why don't you get some sleep, Karl," said Mercury. "You probably have a concussion from that knock on your head."

Christine said, with some concern, "Aren't you supposed to keep someone awake if they...."

But Karl was already snoring in the backseat.

"Don't worry," said Mercury. "He doesn't have a concussion. Probably. Anyway, that was just a mild sleep suggestion. Perfectly safe."

"Another minor miracle?"

"It may surprise you to find that many people find me very persuasive. I don't resort to using miracles for every little mundane thing."

"Just momentous tasks like card tricks."

"That was a demonstration. Special circ.u.mstances."

"Like wanting to impress me?"

"Why, did it work?"

Christine decided to change the subject. "Do you know as much about Karl as you do about me?"

"More. Not to denigrate your importance, but he is is the Antichrist." the Antichrist."

"So you're saying that he really is the the Antichrist? Not just the winner of some stupid contest, the Antichrist? Not just the winner of some stupid contest, the actual actual Antichrist Antichrist."

"That's the intel I have," Mercury said. "He wasn't exactly what I expected either."

"Then who was that, trying to shoot him?"

"Not sure," said Mercury. "That wasn't in the SPAM."

"The Schedule of..."

"Plagues, Announcements and Miracles."

"But why would it be? I wouldn't think that shootings by crazed gunmen would make it onto that kind of schedule."

"No, you're right. In fact, individual mortals don't play much of a role in the Apocalypse. Your role is primarily to panic, start wars, and die from pestilence. Those are activities normally done in large groups. When an individual person does something truly unexpected, there is usually some unauthorized supernatural intervention involved."

"So," she said to Mercury, "You're saying that we have no say in our own Apocalypse? The whole thing has been scheduled for us, and we don't even get to play?"

"Pretty much. But that's basically your whole history in a nutsh.e.l.l. We give you a certain amount of freedom, but when things go too badly off course, the SPAM kicks in. Cherubim like me make adjustments, and get things moving the right direction again."

"So what happens when someone like Lee Harvey back there goes off his meds?"

"Precautions are taken to keep things like that from happening."

"Very effective, I see. So why did you save Karl?"

"Oh, you know. It seemed unsportsmanlike. I still think he's a d.i.c.kweed."

At this point, three things happened at almost but not quite exactly the same time.

First, Christine noticed a blue light flashing in her rearview mirror. Two cops on motorcycles. Probably CHP, she thought.

Second, she pa.s.sed a sign reading "Lodi Next 3 Exits."

Third, Christine realized that Creedence Clearwater Revival's "Lodi" was playing on the radio.

"Dammit!" Christine spat.

Just about a year ago, I set out on the road...

"What?" said Mercury.

"Police," said Christine.

Seekin' my fame and fortune, lookin' for a pot of gold...

"I think this is Lynyrd Skynyrd," said Mercury.

"CCR," said Christine. "It's synchronicity."

Things got bad, and things got worse, I guess you know the tune...

"Synchronicity?" said Mercury, glancing in the rearview mirror. "Okay, now that's that's the police." the police."

"It's CCR. Creedence Clearwater Revival."

"Creedence Clearwater Revival is pulling us over on motorcycles? d.a.m.n, this is a weird town."

Oh lord, stuck in Lodi again.

"What do I do?"

"Well, if they were cops I'd pull over. But I don't know what the protocol is for being pulled over by John Fogerty."

"What, no miracles up your sleeve for this one?"

"Every miracle I perform is one more chance for you to be playing ping-pong with Ariel for eternity. So what do you say we take our chances with Ponch and John here."

Christine grumbled and pulled over. The cops stopped about twenty feet back. One remained on his bike, while the other walked up to Mercury's side of the car. Mercury rolled down the window.

"Nice bike," Mercury said. "I was going to get one, but my wife here says they lower your sperm count. We're trying to have another baby," he added, glancing lovingly at Karl, still sound asleep in the back.

"Step out of the car, please," said the cop. He was muscular and tall almost as tall as Mercury. An angular jaw jutted out from beneath his visor.

"Something wrong, officer?" asked Christine.

"Please just step out of the car, sir," said the cop. His hand was on his holster.

"Okay," Mercury said. "But I am not not going to squeal like a pig, no matter how nicely you ask." going to squeal like a pig, no matter how nicely you ask."

Mercury got out and stood in front of the cop.

"Turn around."