Free Gudsriki by Ari Bach Page B

soon enough, or worse. Or I won’t. If these are the end days, I best forgive her.”
    â€œDon’t make me vomit. I don’t know where it would come out.”
    â€œSome of us have been waiting, Veikko, waiting for the end. You see, the Bible tells us that—”
    â€œJesus fucking Christ, Mishka, give it up.”
    â€œNow’s not a good time to blaspheme, Veikko. The apocalypse is upon us. This, this is all God’s judgment.”
    â€œSpare me your religious bullshit.”
    â€œYou’re free to walk away.” He ground gears again. “But what was I saying? Ah yes: the Bible predicted all of this, you see. This is the confirmation, the culmination of God’s plan. ‘The beast that ascendeth out of the bottomless pit shall make war against them, and shall overcome them, and kill them.’ Good job, Veikko, you started the apocalypse. It’s a good thing.”
    â€œYou’re full of shit.”
    â€œâ€˜And the angel, which I saw stand upon the sea and upon the earth, lifted up his hand to heaven—’”
    â€œPlease just shut the fuck up. I know I’m condemned to eternity in this pit, but you don’t have to fucking preach at me through it.”
    â€œI’m just proud of my own role in the prophecy.”
    â€œDon’t care, Mishka.”
    â€œThe good souls of men must have already ascended to heaven in atomic rapture. We’re the sinful remainder. You know how sinful we are. But Christ is a forgiving God, and I’ll attain heaven too. I’ll spread his word to those who remain and—”
    Veikko tried to punch her and something moved, some semblance of an arm lifted up then fell back to the rock.
    â€œPull yourself together, Veikko. Then come find me when you come to your senses. Even you can be saved.”
    â€œI’m bound here, stuck to the Ares, the—”
    â€œâ€˜He laid hold of the dragon, that serpent of old, who is the Devil and Satan, and bound him for a thousand years.’”
    â€œShe. Skadi did it. And I’m not fucking Satan!”
    â€œNo, no you’re not. But your face would give him nightmares. Enjoy your time here, Veikko.”
    â€œEat shit, Mishka.”
    She laughed and walked away. Veikko tried to move his arm again and metal ground against metal. He tried to look over his new body. It was a tangle. But some parts were open on top. He tried to move them. Slowly, very slowly, the pieces began to fit together.
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    B ALLARD H EIGHTS stretched out for kilometers under the skyway. Through its transparent floor Hati could clearly see the entire arcology, tan baking to orange in the sunset light. It was one of the best-equipped places on earth for the disastrous war. There was food to last an eternity. There was geothermal power, still practically unlimited. There was a radiation screen for an emergency such as this. But best of all, nobody outside cared about Ballard Heights. It had no strategic value; really it had no value at all beyond the holdings of the company that ran it, and without the net, even those were deleted.
    But the isolation was rotting the stable supports. Unable to leave the arcology, citizens were going stir-crazy. Arguments and petty fights were up 1,400 percent from before the war. Class disputes had begun to manifest. Floor 141 laid claim to an elevator and held it as their own. A group of neighbors on the 35th floor was trying to enforce their rights to the pool. The arcology’s first ever instance of vandalism had cropped up when a band from 12 raided 178.
    The war was a world away, the planet’s darkest days evidenced only by the color and opacity of the clouds, but Hati knew something was brewing inside Ballard Heights that would become more of a threat than the radiation or troop movements. As head of the penthouse level homeowner’s association she felt an obligation to fix it, or at least to keep it out, away from