Pantheon 00 - Age of Godpunk by James Lovegrove Page A

too. I felt sorry for him, but at the same time – one less opponent to think about.
    Set at least had the decency to move him out of the rising tide of rainwater. He dragged him by the ankles to the shallow end of the pool, then propped him up in a sitting position against the side wall. Crow’s head lolled. I think he had passed out, the pain too much for him.
    As Set clambered up the nearest stepladder to get out of the pool, I spotted movement on top of the hotel wing opposite. Someone was up there, a man, staggering across the flat concrete roof in a very erratic fashion. The rain-sodden figure came right to the very edge, where he teetered, gazing down, arms outstretched. He was naked, his pale and almost entirely hairless body exposed to the elements.
    Anansi identified him. Susanoo-no-Mikoto. But what’s he doing? He looks drunk .
    “Set!” the Japanese man called out. “Se-e-et! I see you. I see you, son of earth and sky, lord of the desert. One god of storms addresses another. Do you hear me?”
    “I hear you,” the Egyptian answered. “How do you feel, Masayuki? Do you feel well?”
    “Well? I feel great! But my name is not Masayuki. It is Susanoo-no-Mikoto, brother of the sun and moon, born from the nose of Izanagi as he washed his face in the river to purge himself of his sins.”
    Set chuckled. “Are you sure about that?”
    “As sure as I am that you killed your brother out of spite. You cut Osiris into pieces and scattered them across the world, because he was loved so much and you were not.”
    “I did?”
    “Set did, and you are Set.”
    “Maybe it’s Susanoo who is saying this,” said Set. “Or maybe, I wonder, is it the LSD which I have put in your cigarettes?”
    The Japanese man, Masayuki, seemed not to understand. Bafflement replaced the imperious expression on his face, albeit briefly.
    “You speak nonsense,” he said. “Susanoo-no-Mikoto does not listen to your foolishness.”
    “Three drops of pure liquid acid,” said Set gleefully. “In all your cigarettes. Smoking is so bad for the health.”
    “Silence, horn-headed one!” Masayuki declared. He brandished a fist like some manga superhero. “Do not mock me. Do you not feel my power? It rages through the heavens. You should fear me. My anger could destroy us all.”
    As if to punctuate the remark, a fork of lightning rippled incandescently overhead. Thunder erupted a split-second later.
    “It is also Set’s storm,” the Egyptian replied. “It does not scare me. It will not harm one who has Set within him.”
    “If I wish, I could summon the lightning down. Then we shall see whose storm it is.”
    “I dare you to.”
    “Do not provoke me.”
    “You are no god. You are just a man. Susanoo talks inside you, but he does not walk in your skin. And also, you have lost. Thanks to me, you stand there naked, ridiculous. You babble like madman. You are not in this contest any more.”
    “That’s it! Enough!” Masayuki bellowed. Both arms shot up, and he began uttering a stream of words in his own language. Oaths, prayers, imprecations, who knows what they were, but he yelled them until he was hoarse, his body shivering from the cold and his hair plastered lankly against his scalp.
    Set just let him rave on, clearly relishing the Japanese man’s hallucinogenic lunacy. The crazier Masayuki behaved, the more it cemented Set’s victory.
    And then...
    I have to assume that Masayuki’s body acted as a lightning rod. A single raised point on top of an otherwise low, flat structure was simply asking to conduct the current from sky to earth. That’s the only way I can account for the immense flash that came, a blinding white brightness. It was accompanied by a percussion, a bang that seemed to blow my eardrums inward. I reeled back from the window, dazzled and stunned. For a time, perhaps as much as a minute, I couldn’t seem to get my bearings. My head rang. Fireworks were exploding in my vision.
    Finally I pulled myself