Barely two steps back into the office foyer, the world glitched and replaced itself around me. The foot I’d raised above the echoing white marble now stood firmly planted on glossy timber. I hadn’t initiated this, and I hadn’t just been displaced.

I’d lost time.

My body felt significantly lighter. A glance down at my arms revealed their jewellery had been removed, including the one legitimate ring recovered from Odin’s last stand. I still didn’t know what it did.

Thankfully, I doubted the two particular executives in the room with me could tell the difference between the real deal and the multitude of fakes. Directly ahead of me, well out of arm’s reach, Vishnu sat at the centre of a large curved desk topped in black slate. Intricate effigies were carved into the wood beneath it, filigreed in gold and rare minerals. Atop it sat a large monitor matching the curve of the desk in one giant sweep. Etchings resembling the outlines of spreadsheets and software windows hung on it in seeming mid-air against a transparent background. Not magic – not this time. Just very advanced technology.

The desk itself sat in the centre of a gigantic room even larger than the chamber housing the so-called pearly gates. Tall screens rose up from the floor every few metres at perpendicular angles, each carved into a hollow latticework. I could look through rows of them to the far ends of the room. The place was unfamiliar, but activating the muscle required to warp out of it may as well have been turning the tap to a dead water supply, and it wasn’t for a lack of power. We were somewhere inside Providence.

In my guise as Odin, I couldn’t afford to seem surprised.

“Careful,” I addressed Vishnu after only a brief hesitation. “You’re overstepping your bounds. And not for the first time today. I’m well aware of the stunt you just pulled in the Indian Ocean. Touch me again and I’ll make sure everyone else knows about it, too.”

“Business as usual must carry on,” the Preserver responded. “Including and especially during testing circumstances.” He’d changed clothes since the earlier meeting and was now even more colourfully-dressed than before, as if the complexity of each progressive outfit needed to exceed the previous one until someone satisfied his attention meter by commenting on it. Against the architectural brown and gold, the lustrous fabrics appeared far more elegant and dramatic.

“Except it’s not business as usual, is it?” I argued, pacing around the curve of the desk in an attempt to get a covert better idea of my surroundings. The size, wealth and luxury all spoke to a managerial floor, and it had a distinct Indian feel. Vishnu’s private office, perhaps – although it barely resembled one. Passages led off in all directions between the screen dividers, with the black desk in pride of place in the central clearing. “You can’t achieve with reaction what Apollo did via precognition.”

“Our duty is to uphold this company’s reputation,” Vishnu replied flatly, following my progress. “After this morning’s events, we should all be contributing our part. The world should not be allowed to believe we have forsaken it.”

“If you keep this up, they’ll believe we’ve come back,” I responded.

“Then this will only be a boon,” Vishnu stated. He twisted in his chair as I passed behind him, maintaining line of sight.

“Could be.” I shrugged. “But we both know it’s not your call to make, is it? I wonder what Yahweh will say when he finds out you’re leaking divine evidence to the public without his approval.”

Vishnu frowned back at me as I completed my circuit. “That damage has already been done. By you as the culprit. Do not try to deceive me, Odin; I see through your lies.”

“No you don’t,” I returned, putting on my best Allfather grin. “I lie to you constantly, and you don’t have a clue. All you know is that I have a greater proclivity towards prevarication than that unruly dog of yours I recently put down. Any subtlety beyond that is lost on you. So are we going to have a productive discussion about what I’m doing here, or am I going to have to submit some negative feedback to Hera about your professional conduct?”

“My conduct is exemplary,” Vishnu countered, his voice and expression calm. “Which is more than I can say for yours. This has gone on long enough. What have you done with my Head of Compliance?”

“Oh,” I said, raising my eyebrows in mock surprise. “You think that was me? I’m sorry to disappoint, but I had nothing to do with it.”

“I am patient, but no fool. You act like you know what happened and yet expect me to believe your hands are clean.”

“My dear prismatic one,” I said, taking a step forward. “Of course I do. It’s my job to know.” But before I could take another step forward, my body froze against my will, static against the world around me. Only my face remained largely untouched.

Vishnu rose from his seat. “You sneak off in the heart of an unprecedented crisis with no accountability, after admitting to the murder of one of my staff.” He glitched, flickering in place like a damaged film reel. A phone and access card appeared along with it in the centre of the slate desktop, staring up at me almost accusingly. “You conveniently lose your pass and means of contact as if you didn’t want to be followed. We’re not blind, Odin.”

“Can I talk now?” I asked, making a show of rolling my jaw around until more of the freeze eased off. When it relented, I followed up by shaking my arms and legs out as if stretching cramped muscles. “Oh, good job,” I agreed, laying on the sarcasm. “You’re right. If I wanted to carry out some pathetic conspiracy like your blonde pet – who did it under your administration, I might add – the logical move is to make it happen in a way which casts immediate suspicion on myself.” I rolled my eyes. “Is it so hard to believe Apollo destroyed them? Do you even comprehend the pricelessness of the treasures destroyed in that battle? Sacrifices I took upon myself to make for the sake of this company. And this is how you thank me. At this rate I may decide not to share with you the fate of your other pet. You can wait to find out at the next quarterly report.” I shook my head. “Just when we most need solidarity. I expected better of you, of all people. But I suppose the only difference between a pedant and a realist is the level of self-awareness with which they ignore the rules inconveniencing them.”

“Not everyone shares your grim view of the world,” Vishnu replied. “Acting alone would be a clear violation of company process. Except –” He flickered again, pose shifting minutely as a printed document appeared between his fingers, “– I have not acted alone. This is a writ signed by a fifty percent quota agreeing you should be placed under investigation.”

“By who?” I sneered. “Whatever’s left of Rama or Krishna in there doesn’t count as a voting member.” Stepping forward, I snatched the paper out of his grasp. Vishnu didn’t resist, face impassive.

I skimmed over the document without reading it, focusing in on the signatures at the end. Vishnu’s took pride of place at the top, followed by Enki’s. The third signature belonged to Legba. Well, then. We had almost the whole boys’ club coming out to play. I considered tearing in half the potential instrument of my demise, but knowing Vishnu it was probably time-locked and indestructible.

“Fifty percent isn’t a majority,” I said, opening my fingers and letting the paper flutter towards the ground. It blinked out of synchronisation before it hit, appearing back on the slate with the other objects in a neat row. “I obviously vote in favour of my own innocence. Hera can see sense, and if you think Yahweh will sign this tripe, you’re going to be sorely disappointed when the facts come back in my favour. Without that last percent, you can’t do anything except batter me with time-wasters.”

“But we can look into it,” a second voice spoke up. Its owner finally stepped out from behind a cluster of screens, his figure reduced to a silhouette obscured by several layers of criss-crossing latticework. “Gotta admit, the Vish has a point. It is awfully suspicious. You go missing at the same time as his employees. Twice.”

“I’m cowering,” I said dryly, as I eyed up the object of my soon-to-be assassination target. “Look all you like; my hands are clean. And speaking of missing, Legba, one wonders why you aren’t busy focusing on dealing with the enormous PR crisis developing in Europe. Maybe you’re undercutting our interests.”

Legba shrugged, a nonchalant gesture. “That’s just it, isn’t it? Your hands are always clean, even when they’re soaked in red up to the elbows. Tell someone enough times that the sky is pink and they’ll start to believe it.”

“Words born of experience, no doubt,” I drawled.

“No one hired us for our pretty faces.” He nodded towards Vishnu. “Except maybe rainbow boy.” Legba grinned at me and tilted his head, several long white locks toppling over his forehead with the action. Contrary to his words, he did have a pretty face, even if it was half-covered in tangles. There was something uncanny in the way he was sizing me up, though, like a spectator observing some grand joke – that made me wonder if he knew more than he should. Though it was likely an act.

Time to deflect. “A little trust goes a long way,” I said. “In respect of our friendship, I’ll chalk this series of obvious missteps up to stress. This time. So here’s your bone, Vishnu: Themis went and got herself captured by Siphon inside her own compulsion bubble. If you want her back – or the whole of Singapore, for that matter – you’ll have to crack it open.”

Legba’s head swung towards the COO. “That doesn’t explain why I can’t reach her.”

So Legba expected to have some way of contacting Themis even through the bubble? Interesting. Unfortunately I couldn’t probe for more information without exposing a gap in Odin’s knowledge. “She’s not exactly answering the phone,” I said, turning my back on the two of them. Past the maze of screens, I could make out flashes of colour against the walls; cloths, paintings or murals of some sort, though I couldn’t get a clear glimpse from my current location. “As far as I can tell, they’ve turned her into code. Which, if you aren’t careful, could be the fate awaiting us all. I’ve seen it.”

That got their attention. “Code?” asked Vishnu. “I’m not sure I understand.”

“He means computers.” Legba spoke with the conviction of someone who knew they wouldn’t have to explain again.

Marketing was the department I’d had least to do with on Helpdesk, and the most mundane. Providence’s operations worked best from behind the scenes, so the department mainly worked on keeping its shitty brand image running. They handled sentiment like Compliance handled external governance, delivering messages where they needed to go. Regardless of whether that was via dreams, omens or the company website.

As executives went, Legba hadn’t held the position for long. I’d even been ensnared by Providence by the time it happened. The role’s previous occupant, Xaman Ek, had gotten too bored, ambitious or both, and found himself flung down the long drop to demotion. It had only taken an hour to replace him, which made me wonder if the whole thing had been nudged by someone standing to benefit.

Legba’s resume included perfect understanding of all languages, and it had gotten him the job. It was basically a requirement for the department’s entire management team.

Which was just as well, because if any of them had gotten their hands stuck into IT, the environment we worked in might have been a very different place. Coding languages were still languages, after all. It hadn’t escaped my notice how Odin kept the No-Gos sequestered away upstairs in their own isolated habitat. It kept their research a secret. It also kept them occupied and away from other secrets best left undiscovered. Until it suited him to nudge them in a particular direction.

In light of recent revelations, I was guessing he hadn’t been too worried about Siphon. Perhaps he’d even planned on using them once Apollo had been taken out of the picture.

As for Legba – well, language covered more idiosyncrasies than computer code. All the fluency in the world couldn’t prevent the occasional misunderstanding, inconsistency or double-meaning. Unless your powers happened to have a touch of the abstract.

When Marketing released a statement written by Legba, everyone knew exactly what it meant. The subjective became objective, at least in the moment. Perfect unambiguity. Given Yahweh still called the shots, I figured he wasn’t quite capable of contorting reality to fit his statements – but I got the distinct feeling it was being bent in places. As soon as you brought abstraction into the matter, things had a habit of getting shaky. Up to and including the concept of clarity.

And this was who I was supposed to skirmish with. He didn’t seem like much of a challenge at first glance, and that alone rang a whole abbey of church bells. I supposed I could take the surprise brute force route, boring though it would be. But it was too easy. If he survived, maybe he’d try to sic a ghost army on me. But so far I’d only seen him raise one. I wasn’t sure if more was even in his repertoire.

Vishnu glitched in place as time halted for the rest of us, re-entering temporality back in his chair. His fingers folded across each other in front of him. “I have reviewed the operational records,” he announced. “The claim has potential, but has not been observed.” He stared at me pointedly. “Did you observe it?”

It was an obvious trap. “Indirectly,” I said. “I’d love to show you the recording, but they thought of that. It came back installed with a memetic hazard. In the interest of protecting the company from further unwanted incursion, I destroyed it.”

“How convenient.” Legba grinned at me as he slouched back along the sidelines. I waited for him to follow up, but he didn’t.

“And what sort of hazard could be dire enough to warrant the destruction of evidence key to the safety of a senior manager?” Vishnu’s voice had gone quiet. Well, quieter. “The safety you so clearly care about.”

“The kind which eats your soul when you set eyes on it,” I lied. Close enough to the truth to not immediately expose me for a fraud down the track, but far enough to throw Providence off at a critical moment. Preparing for blindness was no help when the real threat was proximity. “Lucky for us all,” I added, with a slow tap on the cheek below my missing eye, “I have a few advantages there. I’d have more if you returned my belongings.”

Vishnu frowned minutely. “And how would you assess the risk this new information poses to the business?”

“Oh, that’s easy,” I grinned. “Catastrophic. Should’ve listened to Themis when you had the chance. But by all means, continue drafting your writs and collecting signatures.”

For a moment, the room stood silent. “We know their location. You should not have interfered in another function’s matters, but the situation –”

His next words were drowned out by a powerful sound halfway between a collection of unstable, shifting rasps and a metallic whirr. Accompanying the noise, a sudden burst of white sent frenetic spots dancing in my vision, and something scratched at the edges of my senses like the kind of poorly-described literary rodents you could reliably predict to turn out to be some kind of eldritch nightmare.

In this case, they were angels. So not far off.