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Holy Book

Our book of revelations is only known to exist in fragments, believed to be part of a much larger whole.

One fine day in the multispace of possibilities, after a hot squeeze of java, Spin carefully keyed through the viewscreen of his cocoon. He had been waiting for an eternity of petacycles, but no doors were opening on Earth, his favorite soulport. So he fished in the stream of the viewscreen, browsing lazily through architecture, chases, and magic. Indexes and categories to possibility were interesting and even useful at times, but could not begin to account for the infinite totality. The only way to find a target was to follow the tracks it left in the physical world.

Book II
Book III
Book VI

Book II

We all are trying to find our own divinity in our own ways. Not really. Many of us are consumed by the daily struggle of career, putting food on the table, salving our injuries, and we forget that divinity and anesthesia are not the same thing. The search for divinity is our higher calling. Some find exaltation in their paths, through flamboyant displays, through downhill skiing, or through murder. Some retreat into quiet desperation, clinging to religion and guns.
Edgar was a preacher at the Church of the Tail Chasers. Welcome, he barked to the assembly as he ran back and forth on the stage, his tail held high. We live by our creed. In the center of the church was a large open area where congregants could chase their tails and thus grow closer to God. His church was open to all, and had many human congregants, but Canine was the lingua franca of the church.
Joe Orangutan was interested, and came to the Sunday services. He wanted to bring animal magic to the green demons, but unfortunately, so much of animal magic sucks. Human magic is wicked scary. They have atom bombs. Lasers. Every human has a car. That's some scary magic. His people couldn't operate those things. Dog magic was fueled by subservience. Who knows, maybe some of that dog magic would be helpful. Dogs are certainly doing a lot better than orangutans. The only real bright spot for the orangutans was the emergence of ecotourism. Joe led tours for humans who wanted to burn 15,000 miles worth of jet fuel to commune with nature before global warming consumes it all, and Joe was happy to give that experience to good paying customers. In fact there was an ecotourism conference coming up. All of the progressive animal groups were sending representatives, and some humans were going to attend also. Demeter, the Earth Goddess, was going to give the keynote address, and she was a big draw. Gaia had agreed to speak also, even though Demeter had top billing. It might be a little awkward but the goddesses were usually well-behaved.
In light of the recent developments, Joe thought it might be prudent to increase security for the event, and he sent a coded message to his office that they should form a militia and start paramilitary training, just to be prudent. In this kind of climate who knew what the future might hold. He didn't want to admit it to himself, but in his heart he knew that this was a step on the path to joining the animal liberation movement.

They still had no idea what was causing the depletion of life force. Where was it going? Was the charm being transmitted to an astral plane? Was it being deposited in a great ocean, or being sucked into a black hole somewhere? Was it leaking into a different universe?
After a long afternoon of coffees and chais at Starbucks, they reached a resolution, gathered their belongings and marched quickly (Roosevelt gliding) to 1600 Pennsylvania Avenue, where with much turbulence they described the nature of the crisis they had discovered to the Chief of Staff, who was very impressed with the urgency of the matter. She whisked them back through metal detectors and suspicious agents to the Oval Office, where they met with the President of the United States of America to tell him what they had learned.
The shades were drawn and the Oval Office was filled with candlelight when they entered. The President was seated in a lotus position on his desk, and gentle drumming played with sounds of wind and rain in the background. He did not look up, but merely said, "State your business."
"Mr. President," Mo began.
"Mr. President," Spin interrupted, "we have a visitor from the other world that would like to have a few words with you. Many people consider him one of the greatest presidents. Mr. President, President Theodore Roosevelt."
The candles sputtered as a cold wind blew across them, and the President of the United States of America opened his eyes. "Mr. President," he said.
"Mr. President," Roosevelt groaned.
"I'm honored to meet you."
"The honor is mine, I'm sure."
"To what do I owe this honor?"
"Mr. President, I'm sure you know that I'm considered the greatest environmental president. I founded the national park system. John Muir was a friend of mine."
"As you know, my administration has strengthened the Clean Air and Clean Water Acts, so millions of American children can breathe more easily and trust the water they drink. We have protected millions of acres of timberland from exploitation, created two new maritime protected areas, and brought 10 new coal-powered power plants under the carbon cap regime. We have excellent relations with the environmental lobby."
"It is true, though, that you have opened sensitive offshore areas to oil drilling, including the north shore of Alaska, and you have blocked the placement of many species from the endangered species list."
"There are important economic reasons for those actions, and they pleased a number of my large campaign contributors to whom I owe my office."
"Mr. Presidents," Mo interrupted, "the life force crisis."
"Quite right," moaned Roosevelt. "We are here on a mission. We have discovered that life on earth is being destroyed by a leak in the life force throughout the world, in addition to the environmental destruction brought upon the planet by the policies of the world's governments. We visited the Bureau of Technological Progress today, and they confirmed the leak. We're visiting you today to inform you of the crisis and request that you declare a state of emergency."
"I see. I take it they have strong evidence of this supposed leak?"
"The evidence is sound and confirmed," offered Mo.
The president turned his attention to him. "I don't believe we have been introduced."
"I'm Mohandas Rogers. I'm a life activist."
"I see." The president looked him over one more time, seemed dissatisfied, and turned back to Roosevelt.
"I'm also an heir to one of the founders of General Electric."
"Oh?" The President looked him over again, with a much more friendly disposition. "Are you a contributor?"
"I made a modest contribution to your campaign."
"Well, why didn't you say so? I'm always happy to meet another supporter."
"Thank you. It's an honor. About the life force--"
The President pushed a button on his desk and said, "Wendy, please send in my science adviser."
The visitors exchanged knowing glances.
The presidential science adviser was a tall white man who wore a beatific smile. He wore a large cross around his neck, and hugged each of them tightly when he entered the room and was introduced. To Roosevelt he gave a low bow.
"Now let's all hold hands and pray." They held hands in a circle in the center of the room. Roosevelt stood outside the circle and bent his head. "Heavenly Father, we implore you to forgive we poor sinners and to wash our souls clean so that we may enter into your heavenly embrace at the end of days. Please show us how we may grow closer to thee. Amen."
"Amen," the guests agreed.
"Our guests have informed us that there is a disturbance in the life force, and have requested that we declare a national emergency. It sounds like a winner to me. We can pursue this crisis with our full energy, and we won't need to hear about the environment for a while."
"That sounds like an excellent strategy, Mr. President. I'm convinced already."
"That's excellent, Pete. I appreciate the sound analysis that you always bring to technological and science issues. I agree with your position entirely. Thank you gentlemen, for visiting today. Please send your action proposals to Pete here. I will announce the crisis shortly, and then we can all rest easier. Nice meeting you, Teddy. Mo." The President resumed his lotus position and closed his eyes. The guests looked around the Oval Office again, walking out slowly and backwards, drawing out that final stare.
When Spin arrived, Zeus was not at Olympus, which pissed Spin off. It was a laborious descent. This was the second mountain he'd been on in five days, he thought. It was a trend.
When he neared the bottom he saw Zeus wandering around, throwing thunderbolts at trees. He seemed in a bad mood.
"Hey, Zeus," he said.
"Who are you?"
"Spin, dude."
"Oh, hey man, good to see you. Let's go fuck some shit up."
"What are you so pissed off about?"
"What do you think? Fucking Hera."
"Okay, dude, enough said. Let's go fuck some shit up."
They flew off to Paris, where they took the forms of rhinoceroses, and ran down the Champs Elysees, trampling flowers, breaking windows, and knocking down bicyclists. It was good fun.
Back in human form, they sat at a brasserie and drank café from minitasses.
"So, dude, what's going on with the life force and shit around here?"
"Oh, come on man, you're smart, why don't you tell me? I really have no idea. It's getting to be a mess though."
"Have you seen anything that would indicate the source of the problem?"
"Yo, Spin. You know something, don't you? Why don't you tell me? We're buddies, aren't we?"
"I have an idea, but I can't say right now. Sorry, I have to figure this out and fix it. Okay, I will say this. It looks like you guys have an intruder."
"You mean another idiot like you?"
"No, not another idiot like me. Looks more like a magic infection. Like a fungus. But it might be an idiot like me. Someone with a really bad attitude who's really pissed off at this universe."
"I feel like that sometimes but I would never do anything like this."
"I know, Zeus. You're really a good guy."
"I am."
"So you haven't seen anything?"
"No, but I'll keep an eye on Hera."
"I'm pretty sure it's not her doing this."
"Don't underestimate her."

Book III

So the director showed them how they created the glueballs, quark-free hadrons composed of gluons of various quantum color states.
"These glueballs, do they have any particular powers?" Spin wanted to know.
"Unfortunately that's restricted information, and I'm not at liberty to discuss the matter."
"Can you tell us the spell that you use to initiate the Large Hadron Collider?"
"Sure. First we cool the helium in the coils to liquid temperatures. We chant an incantation to Hermes, the God of Speed, as we accelerate the protons through the coils to near the speed of light, then as we smash them together in the collision chamber we invoke the spirit of the Alps mountain goddess, Brigita."
"Brigita? Is she very powerful? I've never heard of her."
"To tell the truth, no, she's not very powerful. She can make nice weather sometimes, that's about it."
"Then why are you invoking her?"
"It's the only invocation that the French and Swiss could agree upon."
"That could explain your lack of results in the collider."
"We would like you to study color. We have seen results indicating that the law of conservation of color has been broken."
"Oh my God." The director put his hand to his mouth, shocked.
"Yes, and it seems that the life force on Earth is leaking."
The director sat down, shaken to the very core of his being. "Please let me know if there's anything at all I can do to help," he said.

The physicists stood assembled in clean room gear before the Large Hadron collision chamber. Before them stood the director, a particle physicist and Nobel Prize-winning theurgist in his own right. He held a special censer designed using the most advanced materials science, which burned a superlight volatile incense that would not leave a residue on any of the sensitive electromechanical devices. "We stand here today before the altar of science," he said, swinging the censer. "We beseech thee, oh Lord, bring us closer to thee. We have stood so long in the dark and cold world, separated from your embrace. Show us with this holy instrument the wonder of your ways. As we bow our heads, we contemplate your nature and chant the name of the Higgs Boson. Make us one with thee, we pray."
God was chatting with Spin about good and evil. "Sorry, Spin, I'm going to have to take this call," he said. "Let's continue this later."
He appeared before the physicists at the LHC as a glowing point in the center of the collision chamber, and spoke in his deep voice. "Look, people," he said. "God here. Look, we don't have time for this meshuggeneh henosis stuff. We have a problem back on 'Earth' in 'Reality.' (quotation marks blinked in bright light beside the glowing point). We need to find the source of the gluon color disruption. Please get back to work. I will consider it a mitzvah. Any questions?"
There were no questions.

CNN breathlessly reported the appearance of red demons the size of bears, appearing at the caldera of volcanoes all over the world. Within hours they moved quickly, devouring antired wherever they went. Skies went scarlet all around the Pacific Rim. The cyan waters of tropical isles turned electric red. Panic quickly developed in the tourist industry.
In the hotel room, Mo received an SMS notice of the breaking news on his cellphone. He rushed in to Gwen and Joe. "Have you heard?" They stared at him blankly. "Red demons!" They continued to stare blankly. "They've been released by the gluon color imbalance!"
"What can we do?"
"I don't know."
"I don't feel well," said Gwen. "I'm going to go outside to get some fresh air." She slipped out the door, down the hallway, and into the stairwell.
"She gets sick a lot," Mo noticed. Joe nodded.
They stood on the balcony with the television playing in the background. In New York they were far from active volcanoes and so were in no immediate danger from the red alert. Indonesia did have active volcanoes, and Joe fretted.
As they scanned the heavens they noticed a figure in a black skirt and cape zoom across the sky. It was Girl X again. She was one busy superhero.

The chief scientist at the LHC held a press conference. "We believe that we may have inadvertently created a color imbalance through experimentation with glueballs, which are composed of gluons, the particles that hold quarks and atomic nuclei together. Gluons carry color, which creates the strong nuclear force, which is the most powerful force in the universe. This force is normally only active within the range of an atom, but by creating assemblages of gluons known as glueballs, we hope to concentrate and focus this force, creating powerful new magic for the benefit of mankind. It's possible, however, that we have created a self-propagating imbalance of color in the universe. If this is what has happened, we're really sorry. We are working as hard as we can to identify the source of the color problems we're experiencing, and we will be sure to let you know as soon as we have further information."
The television commentators gave the scientist high marks for damage control, in a very difficult situation for the CERN brand.
Another report appeared on CNN soon after the chief scientist's appearance. Blue demons had been spotted in ocean areas, swimming pools, and in the Big Sky country of Montana. While the immediate reaction was relief at the appearance of a counterbalance to the red demons, one commentator pointed out that this could actually be very bad news for the already-threatened green of the planet.

The President of the United States called in his science adviser. "What do you make of this, Bill?" he said.
"God's ways are mysterious."
"No, really, what's going on?"
"For real?"
"Yes, Bill. Give me the straight scoop."
"I think it's the work of the Devil."
"Satan?"
"Yes, Lucifer himself. The outcast angel."
"Yeah, but what about the blue demons?"
"Also Lucifer. He's often misleadingly depicted as strictly a red devil, but in fact as we know he can assume many forms, including blue."
"I see. This is a very serious situation then. What can we do when the Devil is working his ways?"
"You must take care of yourself and your family first. Holy water, prayer, and communion are your first order of business. A little garlic wouldn't hurt, but please don't tell anyone I said so. Instruct the Secret Service to load their weapons with silver bullets."
"But that's just superstition."
"Do you want to take that chance? No, I didn't think so. Better safe than sorry. The next thing you'll want to do is assemble our leading particle physicists in a safe location. I'm not an expert in that field but my guess is that CERN has been dabbling in dark arts. Make sure that only native-born American Christian scientists are represented."
"Do we have any of those?"
"We can also accept atheists and Jews, I suppose."
"How about Unitarians?"
"Yeah, okay."
"Buddhists? Muslims, Hindus?"
"Yeah, whatever."
"Okay. You think Jesus will intervene?"
"It's not to me to know the Lord's ways. But I hope so. Now would be a good time."

Book VI

Hephaestus, working in his stithy below Mt. Aetna, was hammering horseshoes for Apollo's steeds, Pyrios, Aeos, Aethon, and Phlegon. Fanning the flames with his mighty bellows, he heated one iron slug after another to red, pulled it from the coals with his great tongs, hammered it to form as it cooled, put it back for more working until it was hammered to shape, then dropped the formed shoe into the ash-stinking quenching bucket. As he was hammering a shoe, it suddenly lost its red glow, then shattered from his hammer blow. A sweet but unpleasant odor came to his mighty nostrils. "What is this?" he demanded up the mountain, but no answer came. He took up a shard of the shattered metal, and focused the flame of his awesome blowtorch upon it. It flamed crimson. The metal was strontium. How does an iron slug turn to strontium? It made him angry. This was the work of Zeus, the bastard who had thrown him from Olympus, making him a permanent cripple. Would he never cease his tyranny?

The troop disembarked in Jakarta, and paced the airport for six hours before their flight to Papua New Guinea. The black-clad thin men, also headed for Port Jarvis, stayed remarkably still for the six hours in the shadows behind planters and pillars.
New Guinea is a magical island.
It could be a difficult thing to track a group of CIA ninjas, but Joe knew a family of butterflies with many years of heroic resistance against evil land developers. The ninjas traveled at night, and the butterflies followed, fluttering in the scraps of moonlight that penetrated the jungle canopy. They communicated on a telepathic frequency reserved for Norse divinities, but hardly used as the Norse eschewed ostentatious technical powers.

Meanwhile the organizers of the conference in the New Guinea hinterlands were preparing accommodations, event programs, and table assignments for the imminent arrival of guests. The ninjas probably knew about the conference, and would be planning to strike during Demeter's address. Greenies were sure to be lurking, digging the biovibe, oblivious to the danger. The butterflies would continue to track and send reports. The band of five split off and marched overland directly to the conference center, a dormant volcano in the heart of the jungle.
Demeter had flown in the Oracle of Delphi, Apollo's favorite, for the occasion, and they were relaxing in their speaker's clearing when the five stumbled into camp. When Joe asked her about the future of his people, she shook her head, turned away and softly wept. Joe left the camp and walked back out into the jungle. Gwen whispered to a butterfly to keep an eye on him.
Joe swung through the trees for hours. It relaxed him, after those awful weeks in concrete human cities, wearing clothes. The oracle had wept for his people. He sat and wept, and wept.
He had grown up in a thick jungle, far from humans when he was small, but the encroachment had approached year by year until there were human children running around all the time, and men cutting his tree fathers to steal their wood. Even murdering orangutans. And what do you do when an army of thieves and murderers camps on your doorstep? Do you attack them? They have GUNS. You can only hide deeper in the jungle, far from the waterfalls, far from the best fruit stands, and life grows harder and harder. Your kids are HUNGRY. They get sick and DIE. Humans don't care, they just want to steal and kill. They eat all the fish in the oceans, and have those awful concentration camps for cows, pigs, chickens. Then they eat them too. They destroy the land. And they can't be fought, they're too powerful, too smart, too numerous, too cruel.
But the humans would die if the green demons were destroyed. They thought so much of themselves and their powers but they were spoiled children really, fighting for money, land, power, power, power, completely forgetting their bonds to the land, the wisdom of the earthly rhythms. They weren't stupid, but they were so blinded by power and greed, their love forgotten in their rush for power, and why? Because they were scared and spoiled children. Power would not save the humans, or the world. They already had unimaginable powers: flight, energy, machines, computers. It wasn't enough and would never be enough. They had enough brains to master their environment, but not enough to master themselves.
And now they were sending ninjas to perform their awful experiments on the greenies. Chasing the greenies because they were weak. The humans didn't have guts enough to freeze a red demon and shoot magic bolts at it. No, they wanted to experiment on the weak.
Joe had never married, though he had fine and willing girlfriends. He knew that his work would take him away from his people, and he wouldn't be around for his children. Better to be the solo rider, that's what his people needed. But his people were heading for the rocks so fast that it seemed now that his sacrifice had been in vain. Judging from the Oracle's tears. But the Oracle's truths were notorious for being misunderstood. He'd wait for a Fate to tell him the dark truth more clearly before he'd crumble in despair.
The sun was low in the sky, and the lower forest was darkening. Joe swung from tree to tree up the slope to the volcano's rim, to view the jungle from the cloud forest. So chilly up here. Joe wrapped himself with a carpet-like hanging plant as he watched the sun's rays disappear, then descended the tree to bed down in the leaves of the forest floor.


When Mo rose, Gwen and Spin were drinking tea and talking, a small stack of plantain peels rising beside them. Teddy and Joe were nowhere to be seen. "Morning," Mo said, stretching. "Beautiful venue here. I slept so well."
"Yes, we know," Gwen laughed. "Look how high the sun is."
Mo looked and laughed sheepishly. "Hey, I'll be on my game tonight. What time does Demeter come on?"
"Registration is this afternoon, so the camp will be very busy. We'll want to keep our eyes open. Demeter is on at 7pm, just after dark."
"Greenies will be glowing."
"Yes. We'll want to get to them before the ninjas do, and guard them tight."

There were two human approaches to hatred, resistance and understanding. Gandhi and King advocated non-violent resistance, and they had succeeded in places where violence had failed. The Allies in World War II defeated oppressors with guns. Joe abhorred suffering, pain, violence, killing. But he would kill for his people if he had to, and it seemed the time was now, so he spent the day in the woods, building ninja traps.

The afternoon was colorful, as representatives from African and South American jungles checked in. Security was tight, and predators of animals of higher rank than insects were barred except for one Siberian tiger and one red-tailed hawk, who had agreed to sit through the proceedings in restraints. It wasn't how the organizers would have wished but the predators were just too unreliable and disruptive. A couple of large Burmese pythons tried to slither through but they were stopped, tightly chained, and imprisoned for the duration. A cloud of migratory Asian songbirds darkened the sky late in the afternoon, and their music boosted the celebratory spirit growing in the precincts of the volcano.
It's always a good time for an epic, the Muses knew, but certain historical periods rise to higher epic heights. The 20th century had seen men fly in the air, world wars, voyages to the moon, and the drama was only intensifying. The Muses were busy enough, but humans, bewitched by television and cars, were dreamwalking.

Athena had been in the islands, sunning nude on the beaches, mixing it up with the tourists, but when demons rolled in from the sky and sea to drench Santorini in Greek blue, she knew that she had to get back to Olympus to see what the chuckleheads were up to. She ran into Hephaestus on the way, and he was steaming. He told her about the strontium episode, and she let him rant about Zeus for a while before telling him to quiet himself, which he did docilely and thoroughly. She started to ask questions. What had he seen on Olympus recently? What unusual events in the world of Women and Men? He was remarkably unobservant, except for perceived slights from the other immortals. Notice any color changes? No. Athena had passed Etna on her way to Olympus and the entire region was flaming red, but Heph had noticed nothing. Great.
Jesus and Muhammud were giving wrestling exhibition bouts in Beirut, with tickets selling briskly. Near enough, but she didn't want to get them involved just yet. Their flocks caused so much trouble, and they were hardly whispering in their ears to lay off. Zeus was no use at all, Apollo was out partying with Ares and Aphrodite as usual. So Athena said a little prayer to God, and they had a talk.

The hour arrived, and great excitement filled the crowd in anticipation of Demeter's appearance. Members of the Committee of Higher Phyla made welcoming remarks, noting the historic nature of the gathering, the magnitude of the challenges they faced, and the magnificence of the assemblage. The roar of the twittering and chattering birds, lowing cattle, and all the rest rose when Demeter was spotted offstage. A bird of paradise had been chosen for the honor of introducing the great Earth Mother, and she kept her remarks brief. "I'll keep my remarks brief," she said. "What can I say to honor this mighty goddess? She has stood beside us in all our darkest hours. There is no need to recount how her children have treated her, and we know that her health has been better, but welcoming her in our midst is nothing but an occasion of the greatest joy. Please join me in making our Demeter feel welcome."

Jesus's special powers included love, provision of comfort and eternal life through Him for those who believe in Him. His tunnel to Heaven is accessible only by faith. In fact, Heaven is a faith-based realm unto Itself.
Faith is the most powerful thing in the world. Faith moves mountains, when assisted by powerful earth-moving equipment. Faith is stronger than luck, which can only influence possibilities, and is not a prime mover in itself. Still, luck can produce a strong curve to the shape of events large and small.
The problem with faith is that it's fickle. Its counterpart, doubt, slips in, finding cracks and eroding them atom by atom. But the gateway to the tunnel to Heaven is sensitive to the smallest impurity of faith, and so to gain entrance, it's very important to continually maintain the edifice of one's faith by the regular removal of creeping doubts, and to limit exposure to ideas and influences with the potential to introduce doubt. Eternity is a very long time, and the inconvenience of maintaining appropriate spiritual purity is a small price to pay for entrance to heaven.

The President of the United States of America was a humble man, justifiably proud of his humble ways. The former Governor of Florida, he believed deeply in oranges, sunshine, Disneyworld, Seaworld, Universal Studios Theme Park, and Jesus, and also McDonald's, which all represented simple old-fashioned American values.
All kinds of riffraff came to the White House to demonstrate about their grievances. Marching for disarmament, marching for jobs, march march march. Well, he was President, he had to keep a positive attitude.
His science advisor broke the silence. "Sir," he said, "I have some bad news."
"How much worse can it get?"
"Sir, it's not only the life force that's being sucked out of the universe. It seems that we're also losing charm."
"Losing charm?" the President repeated, shocked. "Oh. My. God."

The ninja force was decimated, but completed their mission. A green demon lay netted, frozen in liquid nitrogen, and loaded on a military jet bound for Argonne National Laboratories, south of Chicago. Spin, Gwen, Mo, and Joe conferred with Demeter. She appealed in turn to Poseidon and the Zephyrs to ground the jet, but they were all watching YouTube, playing tennis on Wii, or messing with Facebook, and couldn't be bothered.
There was nothing but to capture a damned red demon themselves, and offer a swap to the Feds. They considered an anti-red gluon trap, but eventually agreed that aside from the extreme difficulty in construction, there was too great a risk of destroying the demon altogether. Supernatural force would be required. They booked a flight for Greece. The gods of Olympus would be interested.
Red demons had been sighted, rampant, at Mount Etna. The operation would need to be undertaken with care. Typhon would be there, imprisoned under the mountain by Zeus.
According to reports, the mountain was hot, breathing sulfur and brimstone. Magma was moving in hidden chambers deep within the stone, oozing and spurting from the caldera.
Spin went to speak with Zeus first, following protocol. It would be much more difficult to gain his cooperation later if the approach wasn't made that way. The others didn't care much. Zeus agreed to help, and with Athena riding whip, gathered a conclave of the reluctant gods.
Ares was unimpressed, snooty (word?), with the proposal. It seemed a modest operation, snatching just one demon, rather than fighting an army. He had no fear of the red forces. Red was his color.
Minerva settled into a blind within a thicket near the mountain, and watched the mountainside for hours. The immediate region was held in a thick cast of red. Near the rim, the red demons could be seen pulsing dark and bright. They were extremely quick, hard for the eye to follow. Athena held council with Minerva, Ares, and Spin.
"Ares," Athena said, "I don't think you're the right one for the operation. Nothing against your bravery, strength, or brains, dude, but this is going to require speed, and Hermes is going to be our hero today."
Ares was reasonable. "What do we need to do to support the operation? We'll need to distract the demon when Hermes makes the pick."
"We'll need a special net or cage for the beast," Minerva put in. "Athena, can you ask Heph to whip something up?"
"Sure, he'll do it. You all better be nice to him, or I'm going to be really pissed."
"Got it, girl. Will do," said Minerva.
The two goddesses looked at Ares.
"Yeah, okay," he said.

Hephaestus wanted to bargain. "What do I get?"
"You get the council's gratitude for helping to save all of us. Your work will be sung in epics, as we sing of the throne you built for Zeus, and of your Sun chariot that Apollo drives through the sky."
"Those guys don't appreciate me, Athena. You're always kind to me but they're always laughing at me behind my back."
"It's only because you're so sensitive, Heph. If you didn't let it bother you so much, it would stop all by itself. You're a great god, you know. Remember your dignity. Respect yourself. Others will respect you too."
"I know. Sorry, Athena. Thank you. I'll build your net. Now I need to know the demon temperatures and other physical properties. Can they liquefy and slide through a net? Maybe I need to build a box instead of a net. We'll want to build a prototype that Hermes can test, so we can improve the design. The work will go much faster that way. We want Hermes to grab the demon on his first try, it's no good to be chasing them. After the first time they'll be looking for him and they'll see him coming."
"Yes, you're right. You're so smart, Heph."
"Yeah, whatever. We'll need some kind of air hole in the box so the demon won't get blown out by air pressure when Hermes grabs him. I'll put a door or flap on the hole so the he won't get out through that end."
"Sounds good."
"Okay, you keep an eye out, and let me know when you get information on flexibility and temperature. You can pick up a laser temperature probe at a foundry supply shop, but you might have to do some machining so that it can sight the demon at long distance."
"I'll put Ares on that," said Athena.
"Okay. I'll also need any information on interactions of demons with other colors. "
"Yes, sir."
Hephaestus looked at her and allowed a small smile, then looked away and put his scowl back in place.

Hermes complained that the box was too heavy. "I'm not a lifter, Heph. I'm fleet, I'm not a powerhouse. What did you say this is, tungsten? I need something light and sleek. Really, if you want me to have any element of surprise at all, I'll probably need a new material, something very light. Do you do any work with ceramic-metal composites?"
"Of course. What kind of shop do you think I run?"
"I think it would have a better strength-to-weight ratio."
"This was just a prototype, you know. But it's a good point. I'll have another prototype for you tomorrow."
"Can't you finish any faster?" Athena asked.
"No, I can't."
"Okay."
"Do you guys have the temperature numbers?"
"No, we haven't gotten the laser probe back from the supplier yet."
"Well, what are you waiting for? Go get it. I need to know what temperatures I'm working with to get the best alloy properties."
"I'll leave right away."
"Cesana in Milan is good."
"I'm off for Milan."
"Good. Thank you."

When the box was finished and Hermes declared his satisfaction, the gods set themselves in place around Etna with walkie-talkies. They synchronized, and when Hermes was ready, aloft in the clouds with his sleek, light contraption, Ares strode up the mountainside, blazing in his martial wrath nearly as red as the demons themselves. The demons were transfixed by the sight of the great and angry god, and Hermes swept in and snatched a beastly demon.

Spin made the call to the White House. The President was willing to deal, and the swap was made.

The Panamanian golden frog is
critically endangered.


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