XVII

Baines looked at his watch. It was 3:00 A.M.

Ware awoke instantly, swung to his feet with a spring and without a word started for the window. At the same instant, the agony that had been Rome swept over the building. The shock wave had been attenuated by distance and the jolt was not heavy, but the window Father Domenico had uncurtained sprang inward in a spray of flying glass needles. More glass fell out from behind the drapes which hung below the ceiling, like an orchestra of celestas.

As far as Baines could see, nobody was more than slightly cut. Not that a serious wound could have made any difference now, with the Last Death already riding on the winds.

Ware was not visibly shaken. He simply nodded once and wheeled toward the Grand Circle, stooping to pick up his dented paper hat. No, he was moved—his lips were pinched white. He beckoned to them all.

Baines took a step toward Jack Ginsberg, to kick him awake if necessary. But the special executive assistant was already on his feet, trembling and wild-eyed. He seemed, however, totally unaware of where he was; Baines had to push him bodily into his minor circle.

“And stay there,” Baines added, in a voice that should have been able to scar diamonds. But Jack gave no sign of having heard it.

Baines went hastily to his Tanist’s place, checking for the bottle of brandy. Everyone else was already in posi­tion, even the cat, which in fact had vaulted to its post promptly upon having been dumped off Ware’s rear.

The sorcerer lit the brazier, and began to address the dead air. He was hardly more than a sentence into this invocation before Baines realized for the first time, in his freezing heart, that this was indeed the last effort—and that indeed they might all still be saved.

Ware was making his renunciation, in his own black and twisted way—the only way his fatally proud soul could ever be brought to make it. He said:

“I invoke and conjure thee, LUCIFUGE ROFOCALE, and fortified with the Power and the Supreme Majesty, I strongly command thee by BARALEMENSIS, BALDACHIENSIS, PAUMACHIE, APOLORESEDES and the most potent princes GENIO, LIACHIDE, ministers of the Tartarean seat, chief princes of the seat of APOLOGIA in the ninth region, I exorcise and command thee, LUCIFUGE ROFOCALE, by Him Who spake and it was done, by the Most Holy and glorious Names ADONAI, EL, ELOHIM, ELOHE, ZEBAOTH, ELION, ESCHERCE, JAH, TETRAGRAMMATON, SADAI, do thou and thine forthwith appear and show thyself unto me, regardless of how thou art previously charged, from whatever part of the world, without tarrying!

“I conjure thee by Him to Whom all creatures are obedient, by this ineffable Name, TETRAGRAMMATON JEHOVAH, by which the elements are overthrown, the air is shaken, the sea turns back, the fire is generated, the earth moves and all the hosts of things celestial, of things terrestrial, of things infernal, do tremble and are confounded together, come. ADONAI, King of kings, commands thee!” There was no answer, except an exterior grumble of thunder.

“Now I invoke, conjure and command thee, LUCIFUGE ROFOCALE, to appear and show thyself before this circle, by the Name of ON . . . by the Name Y and V, which Adam heard and spake . . . by the Name of JOTH, which Jacob learned from the angel on the night of his wrestling and was delivered from the hands of his brother . . . by the Name of AGLA, which Lot heard and was saved with his family . . . by the Name ANEHEXETON, which Aaron spake and was made wise . . . by the Name SCHEMES AMATHIA, which Joshua invoked and the Sun stayed upon his course . . . by the Name EMMANUEL, by which the three children were delivered from the fiery furnace . . . by the Name ALPHA-OMEGA, which Daniel uttered, and destroyed Bel and the dragon . . . by the Name ZEBAOTH, which Moses named, and all the rivers and the waters in the land of Egypt were turned into blood . . . by the Name HAGIOS, by the Seal of ADONAI, by those others, which are JETROS, ATHENOROS, PARA­CLETUS . . . by the dreadful Day of Judgment . . . by the changing sea of glass which is before the face of the Divine Majesty . . . by the four beasts before the Throne . . . by all these Holy and most potent words, come thou, and come thou quickly. Come, come! ADONAI, King of kings, commands thee!”

Now, at last, there was a sound: a sound of laughter. It was the laughter of Something incapable of joy, laughing only because It was compelled by Its nature to terrify. As the laughter grew, that Something formed.

It was not standing in the Lesser Circle or appearing from the Gateway, but instead was sitting on the altar, swinging Its cloven feet negligently. It had a goat’s head, with immense horns, a crown that flamed like a torch, level human eyes, and a Star of David on Its forehead. Its haunches, too, were caprine. Between, the body was human, though hairy and with dragging black pinions like a crow’s growing from Its shoulder blades. It had women’s breasts and an enormous erection, which it nursed alternately with hands folded into the gesture of benediction. On one shaggy forearm was tattooed Solve; on the other, Coagula.

Ware fell slowly to one knee.

“Adoramus te, PUT SATANACHIA,” he said, laying his wand on the ground before him. “And again . . . ave, ave.”

AVE, BUT WHY DO YOU HAIL ME? the monster said in a petulant bass voice, at once deep and mannered, like a homosexual actor’s. IT WAS NOT I YOU CALLED.

“No, Baphomet, master and guest. Never for an instant. It is everywhere said that you can never be called, and would never appear.”

YOU CALLED ON THE GOD, WHO DOTH NOT APPEAR. I AM NOT MOCKED.

Ware bowed his head lower. “I was wrong.”

AH! BUT THERE IS A FIRST TIME FOR EVERYTHING. YOU MIGHT HAVE SEEN THE GOD AFTER ALL. BUT NOW INSTEAD YOU HAVE SEEN ME. AND THERE IS ALSO A LAST TIME FOR EVERYTHING. I OWE YOU A MOMENT OF THANKS. WORM THOUGH YOU ARE, YOU ARE THE AGENT OF ARMAGEDDON. LET THAT BE WRITTEN, BEFORE ALL WRITINGS, LIKE ALL ELSE, GO INTO THE EVERLASTING FIRE.

“No!” Ware cried out. “Oh living God, no! This cannot be the Time! You break the Law! Where is the Antichrist—”

WE WILL DO WITHOUT THE ANTICHRIST. HE WAS NEVER NECESSARY. MEN HAVE ALWAYS LED THEMSELVES UNTO ME.

“But—master and guest—the Law—”

WE SHALL ALSO DO WITHOUT THE LAW. HAVE YOU NOT HEARD? THOSE TABLETS HAVE BEEN BROKEN.

There was a hiss of indrawn breath from both Ware and Father Domenico; but if Ware had intended some further argument, he was forestalled. To Baines’ right, Dr. Hess said in a voice of high ultraviolet hysteria:

“I don’t see you, Goat.”

“Shut up!” Ware shouted, almost turning away from the vision.

“I don’t see you,” Hess said doggedly. “You’re nothing but a silly zoological mixture. A mushroom dream. You’re not real, Goat. Go away. Poof!”

Ware turned in his Karcist’s circle and lifted his magician’s sword against Hess in both hands; but, at the last minute, he seemed to be afraid to step out against the wobbling figure of the scientist.

HOW GRACIOUS OF YOU TO SPEAK TO ME, AGAINST THE RULES. WE UNDERSTAND, YOU AND I, THAT RULES WERE MADE TO BE BROKEN. BUT YOUR FORM OF ADDRESS DOES NOT QUITE PLEASE ME. LET US PROLONG THE CONVERSATION, AND I WILL EDUCATE YOU. ETERNALLY, FOR A BEGINNING.

Hess did not answer. Instead, he howled like a wolf and charged blindly out of the Grand Circle, his head down, toward the altar. The Sabbath Goat opened Its great mouth and gulped him down like a fly.

THANK YOU FOR THE SACRIFICE, It said thickly. ANYONE ELSE? THEN IT IS TIME I LEFT.

“Stand to, stupid and disobedient!” Father Domenico’s voice rang out from Baines’ right side. A cloth fluttered out of the monk’s circle onto the floor. “Behold thy con­fusion, if thou be disobedient! Behold the Pentacle of Solomon which I have brought into thy presence!”

FUNNY LITTLE MONK, I WAS NEVER IN THAT BOTTLE!

“Hush and be still, fallen star. Behold in me the person of the Exorcist, who is called OCTINIMOES, in the midst of delusion armed by the Lord God and fearless. I am thy master, in the name of the Lord BATHAL, rushing upon ABRAC, ABEOR, coming upon BEROR!”

The Sabbath Goat looked down upon Father Domenico almost kindly. His face red, Father Domenico reached into his robes and brought out a crucifix, which he thrust toward the altar like a sword.

“Back to Hell, devil! In the name of Christ our Lord!” The ivory cross exploded like a Prince Rupert’s Drop, strewing Father Domenico’s robe with dust. He looked down at his horribly empty hands.

TOO LATE, MAGICIAN. EVEN THE BEST EFFORTS OF YOUR WHITE COLLEGE ALSO HAVE FAILED—AND AS THE HEAVENLY HOSTS ALSO WILL FAIL. WE ARE ABROAD AND ALOOSE, AND WILL NOT BE PUT BACK.

The great head bent to look down upon Theron Ware.

AND YOU ARE MY DEARLY BELOVED SON, IN WHOM I AM WELL PLEASED. I GO TO JOIN MY BROTHERS AND LOVERS IN THE REST OF YOUR WORK. BUT I SHALL BE BACK FOR YOU. I SHALL BE BACK FOR YOU ALL. THE WAR IS ALREADY OVER.

“Impossible!” Father Domenico cried, though choking with the dust of the exploded crucifix. “It is written that in that war you will at last be conquered and chained!”

OF COURSE, BUT WHAT DOES THAT PROVE? EACH OF THE OPPOSING SIDES IN ANY WAR ALWAYS PREDICTS VICTORY. THEY CANNOT BOTH BE RIGHT. IT IS THE FINAL BATTLE THAT COUNTS, NOT THE PROPAGANDA. YOU MADE A MISTAKE—AND AH, HOW YOU WILL PAY!

“One moment . . . please,” Father Domenico said. “If you would be so kind . . . I see that we have failed. . . . Would you tell us, where did we fail?”

The Goat laughed, spoke three words, and vanished.

The dawn grew, red, streaked, dull, endless. From Ware’s window the sleeping town slumped down in rivers of cold lava toward the sea—but there was no sea; as Father Domenico had seen hours ago, the sea had withdrawn, and would not be back again except as a tsunami after the Corinth earthquake. Circles of desolation spread away from the ritual circles. Inside them, the last magicians waited for the now Greatest Powers to come back for them.

It would not be long now. In all their minds and hearts echoed those last three words. World without end. End without world.

God is dead.