Roskov, Book 16, page 12
‘And the art work on The Ark, the gold carvings, were as good as the day they were made.’
‘Amazing, I would have loved to see it. Ricky Roskov, thanks for coming on, we’re out of time.
‘And … we’re off,’ came a voice.
She gave me hug, the gang closing in, and we had a coffee together for half an hour before we set off back to the airport with our small bags. The fee had been a hundred thousand dollars, so we had covered the flights at least.
At the airport we sat and ate a small meal with the security guys, and we finally joined a red-eye flight back, all starting to feel tired now so we would sleep well on the flight back.
I found a baby close to us in Business Class, which made me wonder why they let a baby into Business Class – was the baby off to London to do some “business”, and I soon sent the shrieking girl off to sleep, the passengers amazed.
Four hours later I woke wide-eyed and with a start as I sensed the danger, the aircraft descending rapidly. ‘We’re in trouble!’ I hissed at Bill, Ted tapped awake.
‘What is it?’ Ted asked.
‘We’re going down!’
The seatbelt sign came on, but I always slept with mine on but loose.
‘Are we … mid-Atlantic?’ Bill asked.
‘Yes, so we’re swimming home.’
Other passengers had heard me and were now upright and looking around as I closed my eyes and gripped the seat metal between myself and Bonza. ‘Stay quiet,’ I hissed, my head down as far as I could get it.
Panicked some, I imagined the aircraft in outline form, like a kid’s model, and then there it was. I could see the passengers and the crew, the crew panicking about something. And I was about to start panicking about something as well.
Concentrating, I imagined something wrong, and there it was, fuel leaking from a wing, pouring out into the freezing night air. Closing in on the damaged area, I imagined it being fixed, I imagined the fluid flow halting, and after a few seconds the flow of liquid did halt.
Focused now on the fussy orange outlines of the crew, they seemed less panicked.
I then caught something, a flash of red, and I could now see the flow of fuel from the opposite wing. Puzzled, I focused on the affected area and concentrated, the flow finally halting.
Another flash of red, and a set of wires had been cut, and the panic started in my chest. I focused on the wires and imagined them fixing themselves, a few seconds, and the crew was suddenly puzzled and less panicked as they turned us north, towards Iceland.
‘Gabrial,’ I whispered to myself. ‘The fucker is on this flight.’
Concentrating, I imagined all the passengers, their beating hearts, their chests rising and falling, their brains inside their skulls. I went up and down the seating plan carefully in my mind, and then there he was, not quite human.
Seatbelt undone, I jumped up and moved past Bill and Ted, rushing through the galley as a hostess called out to me to “sit the hell back down”, four rows, left side, middle seat, and I placed a hand on his head as I closed my eyes and imagined giving him a stroke using all my energy.
The heat built and died quickly.
I opened my eyes and moved forwards so that I could see his face, and a man in his late fifties sat wide-eyed in terror. He displayed a hard weather-worn face, a black bushy moustache, and he looked like a tough human, a bad-guy actor in a movie.
‘Sorry I touched you, buddy, I fell in the turbulence. Are you … OK?’
He was staring out of focus, in pain, the passenger next to him offering assistance, and it took thirty seconds for Gabrial to compose himself.
He finally focused on me. ‘Well that was rude.’
‘I fell, sorry, don’t think I hurt you though. Besides, you’re damn ugly as it is, I couldn’t make you any worse. But if I had a gin and a cigar I’d offer them to you.’
His eyes widened, and then narrowed to study me. ‘Clever little shit, aren’t you.’
‘Just a guess, you look like a gin and cigar man. Anyway, sorry to disturb you … if you want to go back to doing … what you were doing before. And if I bump into you again we can sit and have a cigar and a gin, maybe at a jazz club, I have one in Sweden.’
‘I’ve been,’ he curtly told me.
‘Then why don’t you be a love and give the bands and the ambience some thought, and send us your ideas. Feedback is important.’
His eyes widened.
‘And let me get you a free membership, discounts on drinks and food.’
He was not sure if I was taking the piss or not. ‘Kind of you.’
‘Well if we can’t all be civilised and talk to one another … we’re no better than animals, eh, apes down from the trees. I’d say enjoy what’s left of your flight but we seem to be diverting to Iceland.’
Passengers started to peer out the windows.
I added, ‘Probably something minor, a fuel leak, no danger. Anyway, I’ll be close by if you … need anything.’
With that, I led Bill and Ted back to the seats.
‘What was all that about?’ Bill whispered.
‘That’s Gabrial, and he was trying to crash the fucking plane,’ I whispered directly into his ear. ‘I gave him a stroke, but he recovered quickly.’
Bill’s eyes widened. Will he … crash us?’
‘I’ll crack his skull if he tries,’ I whispered back.
Grabbing the seat again, I closed my eyes and imagined the aircraft in outline, and I imagined any faults.
Seeing that the fuel tanks were half full I tried to add to them, but then realised that we were diverting to Iceland, and that the fuel dumping had begun.
I could see our trajectory, I could see Iceland and the airport, and I could sense that the pilots were puzzled, since they now had more fuel than they should have.
I smiled. ‘Oops.’
‘Oops?’ Bill whispered.
Without opening my eyes, I responded, ‘I topped up the fuel some, and they just noticed.’
‘Shit … that will have them confused.’
Opening my eyes, I waited for trouble, but none came, and we dumped fuel for a tense twenty minutes before we came in on approach. As we approached, my eyes were closed, the plane seen in skeletal form, and I was alert to any trouble.
I could see the aircraft like a model plane, the runway, the wind, and I could hear the radio messages. The wind buffeted us, but we managed to touch down smoothly enough, the pilot apologising for the diversion due to technical faults.
Halted, seatbelts undone, Bonza woke up. ‘Are we there?’
‘No, we diverted to Iceland, technical faults, so we’re going to have a short holiday here.’
‘Is it warm?’
‘Fuck no, snow on the ground.’
‘Girls in bikinis.’
‘Yes.’
‘Yes?’ Bill and Ted puzzled at the same time.
‘The hot springs, open all year, girls in bikinis, snow on your head.’
In the terminal I could not see Gabrial, nor sense him, nor sense any danger, and on the plane I had not sensed him either.
Our luggage was taken off, a hotel would be arranged, but when they realised that it was me I got the VIP treatment, a police escort to the city in the dark, snow seen on the ground.
The night staff in the hotel were delighted to see me, the best rooms for us, and we dumped luggage in those rooms. Downstairs, the restaurant was closed at this hour, but they could open the bar and they had snacks.
Beers were placed down for us by smiling lady staff, and it was just us here, sandwiches offered, peanuts and crisps, so Bonza was happy.
With the bar staff gone, Bill asked, ‘That angel, Gabrial, he tried to kill us?’
‘He did.’
‘He did?’ Bonza puzzled.
‘You slept through it, dope. He damaged the fuel system and then cut some wires, so I fixed them. Then I scanned the passengers and found him, and gave him a stroke – which he recovered from quickly.
‘But he could have hurt me, read my mind, and he did neither, so I think I’m blocked to him, just that … he could bring down a plane with me on.
‘But … he looked surprised that it was me, when he should have known it was me when he started to screw with the plane.’
‘Was he after someone else?’ Bill asked. ‘If he wanted you dead, there are easier ways to kill you.’
We exchanged a look.
‘Can you get the passenger manifest?’ I asked Bill.
‘Yes.’
‘Make some calls, get it fast.’
Bill stepped away and made a call.
Ted asked, ‘Will he try again?’
‘Probably, and … he knows that I’ll be on the flight when they send us a new plane.’
‘So don’t be on the plane, see who he’s after.’
My eyes widened. ‘Let him crash the fucking plane!’
‘He’s going to try anyhow, not this flight but one where you are not on it.’
‘Well … yes, he’ll get his man soon enough I guess.’
Bill walked to reception, and when he returned to us he was waiting a fax; Interpol would scan the names as well. Bill asked, ‘Why go to so much trouble, to bring a plane down?’
‘Planes crash, it would not be seen as an assassination,’ I replied. ‘And he doesn’t give a fuck about human life.’
‘Why not set the fuel alight and blow it up?’ Ted posed.
‘I had the same thought,’ I told him. ‘So … what if he wanted to divert the plane, since he waited till we were flying past Iceland?’
‘He could have waited for us to be away from Iceland,’ Bill noted. ‘So why here?’
‘A face to face assassination is possible now,’ I thought out loud. ‘But he could do that any time, he’s a fucking angel.’
‘Are you sure that he never meant to kill us?’ Ted asked.
‘Well … no. And … I gave him a stroke, I … walked up to him, he was not prepared and he never sensed me. He was surprised that it was me. And an angel should be able to fry me in an instant, not let me sneak up on him!’
Bonza ate his crisps loudly, getting a look from me.
After a beer I felt better, more relaxed, and the fax finally came through. We each scanned a page, the names and nationalities, but nothing caught my attention. We swapped pages, and we read each page again, one famous footballer noted, a few minor actors, two politicians.
The list left us frustrated.
‘Why divert us and … not just blow up the fucking plane?’ I sighed out.
Bonza finished his second pint. ‘Maybe you give him too much credit.’
‘Huh?’
‘He got on the plane wanting to crash it, he waited for mid-Atlantic kind of, you said he was dumping fuel – so we would not make it here, and he was surprised when you zapped him.
‘Before you zapped him, did he know that you could zap him? Did he know that he couldn’t read your mind like you said he couldn’t?’
I stared out of focus. ‘Elbek is an angel, yet he was surprised when I could summon him, and … he didn’t know that I was blocked to him, and when he spoke to me he couldn’t sense what I would say next.
‘What if … Gabrial never got the memo, that I was blocked to him and could zap him – as Bonza puts it. And there’s something else, The Ark. It gave me energy, but I don’t know why - or what it does.
‘Maybe Gabrial did want to crash us and kill us, but never knew what The Ark gave me, that’s why I could give him a stroke – at least a stroke for a while.’
Bill began, ‘So he’ll go away and try and figure out how you beat him.’
Bonza burped loudly. ‘You got them powers of Laz-ur-rush.’
‘Laz-ah-roz.’
‘And this twat never knew, and The Ark zapped you up the bum and he never knew.’
‘Bonza, go to your room and sleep.’
‘Need a pee anyway.’ He wobbled off, jet-lagged and a bit drunk.
I faced Bill and Ted. ‘If Gabby never knew before, he knows now.’
‘He knows that he can’t hurt you, so he’ll send a human with a gun,’ Bill suggested.
‘I can sense danger.’
‘With a sniper rifle, a six hundred yard shot.’
‘OK, might not sense the sniper, but I have you two as bullet stops.’
‘Three snipers, well trained, and they’ve all had a Mars Bar.’
‘A Mars Bar each? That would be a worry,’ I agreed. ‘Anyway, get some sleep, chair up against the door.’
‘Will a chair up against the door stop a fucking angel?’ Ted complained.
‘Try some garlic then. And the fact is … he’s supposed to be able to kill us with a single thought no matter where we are on the planet.’
‘Maybe Bonza is correct, and his powers are limited, especially when it comes to us. He tried to take a plane down, not just zap us.’
I stood, they stood, and we exchanged looks. ‘We don’t know the rules of the game yet, that’s the problem. No angelic guidebook.’
Up in the room I had a pee, checked the heating, had a sip of water and closed the curtains.
I heard the footsteps and was worried, but it was Laz. ‘Ah, you, not Gabby.’
‘I was observing but not interfering, to see what was on his mind. Like you, I can’t read his mind, I need to judge his actions and reactions.
‘And you’re correct, he was surprised that he could not read you or touch you, and very surprised that you “zapped” him.’
‘Let’s not use the word “zapped”, OK.’
‘Hell yes, Bonza is a Neanderthal.’
‘So now he knows, so … how will he react?’ I posed.
‘He’ll be worried, because he knows that I assisted you and that God favours you. But that will also make him mad, jealous, and angry – you should not have used the “ape” joke, that will enrage him.’
‘He sees us as apes?’
‘He does.’
‘Will he try something tonight?’
‘Hell no, he’ll be so puzzled it will take him a week of jazz and cigars to clear his mind. It was not so much a move on the chessboard as you knocking down many of his pieces on the board in one go.’
‘He was trying to kill my team?’
‘He was, but that would have angered God, so I doubt that he would have succeeded. You see, God likes a level playing field. He cares little what we angels do, unless we do it to one of his pet projects of course, and his pet projects are usually obvious to us.’
‘Gabby was angry about the FBI spy…’
‘He was, you upset his plans.’
‘And does God hold a grudge?’
‘He most definitely does, and Gabrial will be out of favour, shall we say. He won’t try that again.’
‘Was he genuinely shocked when I touched him?’ I pressed.
‘He was, which I took no pleasure from observing.’
I shot him a look. ‘Hmmmm. And Elbek?’
‘We had tea, and we spoke, and argued, and debated – quite loudly. But it cleared the air.’
‘Will Gabby be on the flight back?’
‘He has gone already, luggage and all. He’s probably in a jazz club as we speak, annoyed, stewing, a gin in his hand.’
‘He doesn’t like us apes, but he likes our gin and our jazz!’
‘He is a little two-faced, yes.’
‘You still don’t see it, do you?’
‘See … what?’
‘What The Ark gave me.’
‘If I don’t see it … it’s because I’m not meant to see it, a great mystery.’
‘You can live with that?’
‘That … makes my existence better, a mystery, a puzzle, not just the usual 9 to 5.’
My brow pleated. ‘You work 9 to 5?’
‘Just a saying, I don’t sleep.’
‘And if I used my powers to make Bonza … polite and cultured?’ I teased.
‘God would strike you down for certain!’ And with that he vanished.
‘It would need a miracle anyhow,’ I sighed out. Sat in bed, I started to make calls, and to explain that I was not dead, just diverted to Iceland.
‘Dad, yes, sorry I woke you, just to say that I’m not dead.’
The final call was Rolf, waking him and apologising. And I asked him to get to the club early tomorrow and have them scan the jazz bar CCTV, for a man fitting the description of Gabby.
Iceland
After a lengthy breakfast, the other guests very pleased to meet me, the Icelandic Prime Minister came in with an aide and we sat for coffee and a chat. The other passengers had a plane booked for 2pm but I would not be on it, the Prime Minister delighted that we would look around Iceland.
Minibuses organised, and we drove around the small and damp grey city, interesting things pointed out – a few new buildings noted amongst the drab grey buildings, and then we headed to the museum, where we studied the Vikings, Bonza taking the piss out of Bill and Ted. But to suggest that Bill and Ted had descended from Vikings was a great compliment to them.
I studied the Viking Long Boats with interest, and the crazy bastards had crossed the Atlantic in them. I would be worried in a cruise liner, let alone a boat that was twenty feet long.
After the museum, the weather quite good today – cold but not raining or snowing, we visited the very small zoo, to see a seal in a small tank staring back at us, and little else.
An hour’s drive up-country, and we had a view of hot springs, a wet green valley, huge mountains and cliffs, and the twins would have liked this.
Inside a large shed, we had a look at the thermal energy transfer system, free electricity for the island from Mother Nature.
Back in the city, we had a shower and a rest, to their best restaurant at 7pm with invited guests, plus reporters and a Danish TV crew, and I worked the room, chatting to groups and being photographed.
I gave a short TV interview about the situation in Ireland, a few comments about wanting to visit the Faroe Islands again – as well as my ongoing distaste for Herring.
Back at the hotel at midnight, and they had a fax for me, the faces of three men from our Swedish jazz club. Gabby was the second man, my heart skipped a beat, and I had an evil idea – which made me smile as I got to the elevator
