I. BECKONING

Foreseti smiled as he sat at his secretary desk, hands clasped over the thousands of papers that covered the marble surface. It was a good morning in the abnormally large, hidden location that was at one point the refuge of the mysterious Incas. Of course, Forseti had no way of knowing that it was a good morning in regards to weather, seeing as the headquarters was in an underground cave. Fortunately enough, Morpheus, who was head of the dream sequences, hallucinations and visualizations department, had figured out a way to put window frames up in the cave and make it look like clouds were passing by in the frames. But of course, there always had to be a funny guy, and while visiting, Osiris found it quite amusing when bashful little Mercury peeked out the “window” and saw the gates of hell u close, sending him into a frenzied fit.

Hell was generally a bad place, but it was not the fiery pits of eternal pain that some sadists like to believe. It had no official name; people were welcome to call it whatever they wanted, just as the commonly known “heaven” was. The employees of THEO – which spelt out The Hitchhiking Elf Oreos – liked to think of themselves as a level between the Ethereal Association of Rutabagas (EAR), also known as heaven, and the Legion of Evil Guano (LEG), also known as hell. At the same time, THEO enjoyed laughing at mortals because they were simply that amusing and foolish. For example, who needs cars when you have immortal, fluffy-winged horses to lead a golden, flaming chariot? Who needs cash cropping when you have Canteotl to supply you with endless amounts of corn?

Foolish mortals, that’s who. Little did they know that day by day, Shiva the Destroyer was continually losing his patience with him and near pushing the gigantic maroon button next to his gem encrusted throne (which was in front of a gem-encrusted computer that sat next to a gigantic stack of magazines featured naked blue women) that had “Warning: Destroys the World” clearly printed upon it in big, bold, black letters. And no one really bothered Shiva, seeing as he was quiet and could transform into Vishnu, who had four sets of arms and could strangle four different people with said arms all at once. Shiva wasn’t even that bad, except for when he played Eiffel 65’s song, “I’m bule Da Ba Dee Da Ba Dye” five million times a day over the intercom.

Forseti could hear the song echoing in his ears, but he still smiled the eerie ear to ear smile that he always had on his lips. He could put up with the music as long as Shiva ranted to his rubber anger management toy rather than to himself, although right then he would have preferred anything to the emptiness of the room. Everyone was either sleeping in their mystical elemental thrones or going mad listening to Shiva’s song in their office. The god of balance, peace and justice wanted to take out his wig and gaffe and imitate Judge Judy again for fun, seeing as everything he had wanted to finish had already been completed that morning; but the last time he had been caught in a woman’s wig, the hermaphrodite Aztec corn god tried to molest him. It had been hard to get out of that one untainted.

Fortunately for Forseti, he could hear Mercury’s voice in the near distance, which meant that there would be company for at least half an hour, because this was the last stop that Mercury had to make in the day. Unfortunately for Forseti, Mercury was not whistling joyfully as he usually was, but screaming intensely and becoming louder and louder by the minute. He was coming nearer.

“FORSETI!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! HELP ME!!!!” his voice cried in the distance. Forseti made no effort to move instead reclining in his chair. If Mercury truly was in danger, he would find some sort of way to make it into the sterile office. That, and Forseti had sat in his chair long enough to feel the warmth that the material had absorbed. It would be downright stupid to give up something like that for meek, mousy Mercury.

A moment later, he could see why Mercury was squealing. Anubis, the sable-haired, jackal-headed Egyptian God of Death, had firmly planted his jagged chops into Mercury’s chunky backside, whose plump form slumped in front of the paper-covered desk and begged Forseti with his eyes. “I was just doin’ m’ job, getting’ the mail ‘n the like…” he sobbed.

Forseti blinked and looked at Anubis like they were in a conference meeting, hands clamped together in front of his chest and resting upon the desk quite pleasantly. “Anubis… under what circumstances does Mercury owe this injustice?”

The jackal released Mercury’s flesh (who was in return quite relieved) and leaned over the desk to stare at Forseti. Silver goo dripped from his mouth and splattered onver the papers that crinkled under the fierce density of the liquid. “The time has come,” he rasped, “The great and powerful Pluto, myself included in the decision, has determined that we must design relations with each other. LEG, EAR and THEO must come together and define each sector. Give the humans something to rant about.”

Forseti merely blinked and covered his forehead with his hand. “But we’ve already given things to rant about. Apollo has documented billions of things that we’ve given them to rant about. From toe pain to propane! And we already have defined our relations! We’re supposed to hate all of you and the people in EAR and you’re supposed to hate us and EAR and by the end of the next millennia we should all have destroyed the Earth and begun a massive raid of the universe. The creationism departments will love that. ‘I’ve been working here for 4.5 billion years, wahh, I was never assigned a retirement plan…’ The buggers…”

Anubis growled, and Forseti took it to be a sign that he wasn’t quite that pleased with the sarcasm. “Saturday,” his voice boomed. “I have already met with Stephen, and he would prefer to hold the festivities in the Hagias Sophia. You know how tired he is of seeing depictions of that foolish mortal in churches.”

“No you’re kidding,” Forseti protested, “We can’t fit all eighty million, nine hundred and seventy two deities in the Hagias Sophia! I mean-“

“For a representation of peace and justice, your attitude towards the matters is nothing short of hypocritical.” The room went quiet for a moment, and Anubis held no emotion on his face. “You will assemble the deities and you will ship them out to the Hagias Sophia by magic carpet, flaming chariot, umbrellas, ethereal escort, limousines and what have you. And yes I suppose you could use the rings of Hell.”

“Sweet.”

“Don’t mess this up.” And in the blink of an eye, he was gone.

Mercury emerged from the corner, clutching his now bandaged rump. “Hey Forsetiiii…” he moaned questioningly. Forseti rose his eyebrow and glanced over at Mercury. “WHAT?”

“…Who’s Stephen?”