(no subject)

[gone_byebye]

For a long time, Ray was not good at sleeping on airplanes. Too many bad memories. The circumstances of that dark December morning haven't been revisited in many, many years, but there were still enough echoes when Ray gets on the plane bound for St. John's that he didn't trust the possibility of sleep. He settled into his seat instead (the window seat next to Winston), closed his eyes, and concentrates as he'd done pretty much every day of his life since the weird, weird world-bouncing exile imposed on him by forces unknown at Milliways began. Whatever it was they were going up against in the high Arctic, it had him scared spitless, and fear was not going to be productive when they get there. So-

I will not fear. The words were worn smooth with familiarity by now, if not in any groove that their originators would recognize. Fear is the mind-killer, the spark-destroyer that brings total obliteration. Where fear leads I do not follow; where fear forbids, I go as needed. I will face my fear. I will permit it to pass over me and through me-

The thought that floated up at him as the usual mish-mosh that inhabited his skull quieted was loud enough for him to stop and listen. It was Artie the gerbil's voice- You'd think for a supposedly peaceful mission they'd pick a sub that wasn't named for the largest nuclear explosion in human history.

Something about that almost made sense, in a horrible kind of way. There was something, something he had to remember, he just-

Verily doth the King of Hell itself ride 'ere the stars align and his get pollute the sea with their very presence.

Garion's world's demons weren't affiliated with the Judaeo-Christian-Islamic Heaven/Hell axis, or any of the Buddhist Hells. Garion had said that Hell was another universe altogether. The king of Hell didn't map out to anything that Ray knew, except, except-

"Winston, gimme the phone."

"What?"

"The skyphone. I need to do some research right now." Ray scrambled for the phone inset in the seat in front of Winston and punched in the Firehouse number. "Hi, Janine? This is Ray. Can you put Ecto on for me?"

"Hi, Daddy," came the car's voice after a moment. "What's up?"

"Ecto, honey, Daddy needs you to check on something, okay? Load your reference files. Fast."

"Okay," said the car a few seconds later. "I'm ready."

"Pull up any competent listing of royal titles, historical and otherwise, that you can find. Cut out anything that falls below the rank of grand duke." He could feel Winston staring at him; he didn't care. "Fictional titles count."

"Got it, Daddy. Next?"

"Cross-ref the results with any listings in the online text of Tobin's Spirit Guide that utilize any words referencing Hell or demons." He thought a moment, then added, "Or extradimensional or extra-universal entities, for that matter. And in your other entity reference listings, too. Might as well go for broke."

The pause this time was slightly longer. "This is getting a little freaky, Dad."

"I know, sweetie, I know. I'm sorry I didn't think of this in time to do it myself."

"You owe me for this. I want an increase in my allowance.

"You'll get one. Is the cross-ref done?"

"Uh-huh. It's kind of a big list, Dad."

"Hell's big on hierarchies, I know," Ray says. "Okay, slicing time. Filter it so we only get beings with ties to Russia, explosions, nuclear power, bombs, or the high Arctic."

Several moments later, there was a soft ping! noise over the skyphone. "Got one, Daddy. It's kinda tenuous, but it's a better link than Koschei the Deathless."

Ray wrinkled his nose at the thought. "This kind of thing doesn't sound like Koschei's style," he agreed. "Lay it on me, kiddo."

"Okay." There was a pause and a small electronic flourish, the equivalent of a human clearing her throat. "'I started with loathing when told of the monstrous nuclear chaos beyond angled space which the Necronomicon had mercifully cloaked under the name of Azathoth' - whose epithets include The Blind Idiot God, Nuclear Chaos and the Daemon Sultan."

"Ray?" said Winston. "Ray, you okay there? You don't look so good."

"I'm fine," said Ray, shaking his head rapidly. "I'm sorry- I'm fine. We're, um... hang on." Into the phone he said, "Thank you, Ecto. I appreciate it."

"You're welcome," said the car. "Don't forget about my allowance."

"Your confidence in our ability to survive this kind of conflict is reassuring," said Ray dryly.

"I kinda thought you might think that way," Ecto said cheerfully. "Bye, Daddy."

Ray hung up the phone and ran one hand over his face. "Gimme a minute, Winston," he said.

"Take all the time you need, man, you look like you need it."

"Thanks." Ray settled back in his seat again, and closed his eyes.

Where the fear has gone there will be nothing. Only I will remain....