The Alarm Clock at the End of the World

Part 85

Less than an hour before.

Our lives are very much in danger right now, and I might pull my guns and open fire, taking everyone out and breaking for it. If you kill too many celebrities in one place someone is bound to notice. “Door to the left,” I whisper loudly to Mephis, who is gluttonously handing out attention to the murderous glares on us from the other guests.“Get through the fucking door to the left.”

“What did he say?” Nepotism asks me in a pointed hiss.

“Who?”

“Solomon,” Nep growls. “What did he tell you?”

“He told me to keep an eye on Mephis.”

“Why?” Nepotism demands. “What did he tell you?”

I point to our right. “Did you see your old agent who told you to give up writing and live in a cave?”

Nepotism starts fiddling with the locks on the briefcase. “You think you’re special because Solomon watches your show?” he says, the energy draining out of his voice like oil through a burst pipe. He starts walking with us, dragging his alligator shoes.

Mephis slips around the mahogany door, guiding us into the hall beyond. I have a pretty clear picture of those punk kids being intercepted somewhere, and the big guns brought out earlier than anticipated. The response will be quick and decisive, any access to the artifact is going to be swiftly blocked. We need to get in the basement before anyone has any clue the two incidents were not connected.

Tyr shouts. “Those kids are not going to give us much time before they start shooting again. The interview took much longer than anticipated.”

“You call that an interview?” I ask. “When I interview someone, I want time to sit down, time to let them expound on a question. Solomon didn’t even know we were on the record!”

“That’s good!” Mephis Tyr says.

Nepotism shakes his head. “That means you can’t say anything salacious. He could sue.”

“The guy ate his own shit on stage. He did it regularly. There is nothing salacious I could say that hasn’t been said.”

Mephis starts walking, determined. “Get into the kitchen!” He. “I’m going to strangle that Goat if those brats aren’t in position when we arrive.”

“You sure they’ll pull through?” Nepotism asks, managing to keep up.

“I wouldn’t give them any other choice.” Mephis says.

I sidestep into a fast walk. The hall is about sixty feet long, culminating in a ambidextrous swinging door on the other end.