God in a Basement Flat
I nodded. She was alluding to drugs: I had indeed sampled the green beverage in Ginza. Thinking about it, the taste had been rather odd; but I attributed this to falling standards. “Some sort of catatonia inducing substance?” I whispered. I knew that God had agents in the Yakuza underworld capable of slipping such poisons into drinks. Even if this were untrue, it would be simple to adulterate my regular supply. All imports from Earth passed through the hands of the Cherubim-Gestapo.
“Think about it before you descend,” Meredith suggested. This was a hint for me to depart. I had erected a makeshift tent in the ruins of my pagoda. As I finished my wine and stood, she touched my arm. I stiffened and burned with a medley of emotions.
“My ranch is large and lonely,” she said. “Perhaps one day you will consider…” She flushed, frowned and turned away.
I wanted to hold her in my arms, nestle my head in her bosom, but I felt unable to move. My manners are too refined. She continued: “We are, after all, more than just friends.” While she faltered, I bowed and made my way quickly to the security of my bicycle. Tomorrow, I vowed, I would confess my real feelings: an act of courage greater than suicide. Deeper than love for a country, for tradition.
Inside my tent, sword forming the central pole, stitched kimonos as silk canopy, I sat with Genji and reflected on my sins. If the hierarchy of Heaven really was reversed, I had been acting without absolute orders and thus without moral safeguards. My creation of an immortal human race was not right in the assured, deontological sense. I was responsible for the consequences. Furthermore with only one Earth instead of many, I had no chance to dilute my guilt. It confronted me like a mother: nor was I able to plead bullying by angels. In Meredith’s revised cosmology, these were stronger than God but weaker than poets.
There were other fears. I had doubtless incurred the wrath of those Gods who existed in the alternative Heavens. Would they act against me? Was there no way to redeem myself? Might I enlist the aid of the devils? But Lucifer had once been God’s right-hand entity, presumably the second weakest creature in the universe. Were men and women the real inheritors of this dimension? Or were there lesser beings higher up on the inverted pyramid? I craved Meredith’s cool logic.
After a troubled sleep, I resolved to abandon my second assignment. But when I returned to the lodge, Meredith had vanished. I called out in vain while flamingos scattered from the sunset like traitors. I circled the house and tapped at the windows.
The rear door was ajar. I passed through into chaos. Garments were strewn on the floor, musical scores flapped underfoot. There was a loud rustling coming from the bedroom. Repressing an urge to knock, I pushed into the intimate space. Gabriel looked up in fright; I had caught him searching through Meredith’s underwear. The force of my anger surprised us both. “You downy pervert! Where is she?”
He leered, a pair of stockings dangling from his grubby hand. “God has been listening to your little chats.” He gestured at the Celestial Horn which stood on a dressing-table behind me. “These beauties operate both ways, mister. We heard the blasphemy. She’s been sent downstairs, of course, where all opponents of the regime end up. All the way down to Hell!” Rubbing the silk over his bristly chin, he added: “Better get on with your mission if you don’t want to join her!”
“I’m not going,” I replied, refusing to bow.
An exasperated light came into his eyes. “Dissent, eh? You’re in it now, my friend. Wait till God hears about this. Tip you over the edge of Heaven, he will, like that tart of yours. Brimstone for supper tonight. And a trident in the backside, no question.”
I knew he was lying. I jumped forward and seized the Archangel in a headlock. His feeble resistance confirmed everything Meredith had said. Twisting his arm behind his wings and applying suitable pressure, I soon had the truth out of him. He shouted: “We had a word in her ear. Joan of Arc came round last night!” I knocked off his worn tophat, revelling in my power. He gargled: “She accused you of unnatural habits. All sorts of vile business. Said you were a debauchee. Now let me go! I’ve got the damned teleological arthritis in my bones!”
I was aghast. “This is nonsense! Meredith wouldn’t leave me because of gossip. What exactly did you tell her?”
Though in considerable pain, Gabriel managed a chuckle, greasy lips flecked with spittle. “She didn’t seem to mind about the animals. It was the young boys she took exception to. Pity, she seemed such a liberal. I suppose she couldn’t face you after that.”
