Damien, instead of going to bed, teleported to his father’s office in downtown New Bedlam.
The entire office was titanium-white. Light seemed to just illuminate from the walls, and there was nothing in the room aside from a work desk and a small sideboard.
Death sat at his desk and looked up from his paperwork in shock and worry at the appearance of his son before him. For one thing, Damien had just appeared there in his office, which was blocked by a thousand-and-one magickal locks that supposedly no one could penetrate. Secondly, he thought his son wouldn’t come see him of his own volition after what he had done. “Damien? What are you doing here?” He put down his pen.
“My uncles are dumb.” Damien sat down coolly in front of the desk.
Death gave an affirmative nod, picked up his pen and said, “Yes. I am aware.” But, he smirked a bit to himself, because, as it had turned out, his son did come to see him of his own volition.
Damien replayed that conversation with his uncles in his head while his father shuffled papers. He leaned forward. “Do you think that you can stop Fate? Change what is and what will be?”
Death didn’t miss a beat. “No. I don’t,” he paused, “but I keep trying anyway.” He went back to his work.
Damien didn’t understand. Death, of all people, seemed so practical most of the time. “Why?”
“It’s simple,” Death said without looking up. “Revenge.”
“Wow. That’s uh... not the answer I was expecting.”
“Were you expecting for me to say something heart-felt about courage, hope, and betterment?” Thanatos signed the bottom of whatever page he was reading.
“Nope... Because that would have been dumb, expecting you to say something so-”
“Damien.” Thanatos laid down his pen and laced his fingers on the desk. “The moment the Fates were conjured into being, others began to use their existence as an excuse for many things. The concept of fate excuses one’s own behavior and the behavior of others. It takes away personal responsibility.” Death pulled a sticky note from his drawer and scrawled quickly. “We will add the Scarlet Letter to your reading list.”
He looked back up at Damien. ”Fate takes my job and makes a sham of it. They chalk it up to fate. It was his time. It was fated to happen. No. The man operating the motorboat was a drunken fool and cut the child in half with the boat’s propeller. It wasn’t fate or chance or god working in mysterious ways. It was a terrible accident created by sheer idiocy.”
“Okay. That got real...”
“I don’t see the point of gabbing on about theology and philosophy if you aren’t brave enough to integrate the theories into the sphere of reality. Otherwise, it’s just talk, and talk is cheap.”
Damien sighed.
“Not to mention-” Death picked up his pen again. “..the Fates hid my own son from me, probably in the cell right next to the one I had helped to construct for Eros under their orders.”
There was silence.
And Death said, “Damien, I’m a terrible father.”
Damien crooked an eyebrow at this unprovoked, and unexpected, confession. He wasn’t sure how to respond. “Well... that’s okay,” Damien shrugged, hoping he might relieve Death of his personal responsibility. He said, “...because I don’t need a father anyway.”
“Yes, you do.”
“Okay.” Damien again was struggling with the conversation.
“Just maybe not me.” Death frowned.
Damien scrambled to find a way to console Death. “Loki’s been winning worst father of the year coffee mugs ever since, well, probably since custom coffee mugs became a thing. So, he’s not exactly winning in that arena either.”
“Why are you trying to make me feel better?”
“Because,” Damien said, “you are a sentient being, and you’re trying, I guess, so, I suppose that means you deserve some... comfort.”
They both thought about the teddy bear.
“I don’t need to be coddled. Especially by you.” Thanatos said.
“Are you sure about that?”
Death glared.
Damien backed down, deciding to change the subject. “What are you working on?” Damien asked.
Death let out a sigh. “Revising contracts.”
“Need help?”
“Have you attended law school?” Thanatos smirked.
“I have granted lawyers’ wishes. Helped people out of legal troubles. You’d be surprised what I did as a Jinni.”
Thanatos said in a condescending tone, “By all means.” He picked up a contract, bound in black leather, and handed it across the desk.
Damien glanced at it and made a face. ”Portal Travel and Subject Imports and Exports?”
“With the Fates currently deposed, I gave myself permission to create my own portal transportation system. When it launches, it will be the only reliable portal transport between the worlds, and there will be no way for the Fates to undo it. Usage of the portal will be an exclusive perk for my clients. It will allow them safe and easy travel to do business over-veils. Namely, the Mortalworld. But, as part of the terms and conditions, certain goods will be forbidden to be transported. Drugs, magickal artifacts, people-”
"People?”
“It’s a measure to keep the worlds in balance. Think of these banned goods as invasive species. If you introduce our magicks into given worlds, the other worlds could dissolve into chaos. Likewise, if demons were allowed to bring humans back to our world, they would treat the Mortalworld, and my transportation system, like a McDonald’s drive-through. It would be a universal imbalance, which is why the veils were drawn between the worlds in the first place, but-”
“Well, there’s one loophole,” Damien interrupted.
“...What?”
“Yeah, there’s a loophole. Listen. This section here doesn’t permit your clients to smuggle these goods via your transportation system, but it doesn’t stop them from building their own portal or using someone else’s. Monopolize this shit. Don’t let your clients use outside portals or make their own. If they want to travel, they must use your company exclusively.”
“Damien, only I have the power to construct a portal of this magnitude. Though, some portals may still exist naturally, or could be hypothetically, haphazardly created, they aren’t stable or reliable. Natural ones move around in too unpredictable a pattern to be trusted. To create a portal, complicated rituals must be done and are only successful during particular celestial events. These portals cannot be used as reliable mass transit. No one but me can complete an enterprise such as this.”
“Yeah... But, if this is a success, the rest of the world will want in on it, everyone will try to imitate it, and they might allow this dangerous smuggling. If people want to do something, they will find a way. And they are usually willing to settle for unreliable. So, add in some clauses to keep your clients from attempting to build their own portals or using others. If your clients want to use a portal, then they need to exclusively use yours.”
Death gave him an amused smirk. “If other portals could be successfully created, which they can’t, then few of my clients would agree to use mine.”
“Their loss and your gain. Drop them as clients. You’ll know who your enemies are. This portal of yours will open a whole new can of worms, so make sure your clients don’t have the option.”
“I am aware of the can of worms I am opening, Damien, but again, no one else even has the capability to compete with this.”
“I am aware of how powerful you are, but again, you never know, so you better get your house in order.” Aggravated, Damien slapped the contract down on Death’s desk, and he stood. “But, why listen to me? You’re free to do as you wish.”
“Where are you going?” Thanatos asked.
“Wherever I want, because Loki doesn’t doesn’t give a shit.” And Damien disappeared.
Death hissed and glared at the contract.
Damien was right. He hated that Damien was right. It meant that where the balance of things was concerned, he shouldn’t be making this portal at all. But, it was too late. Construction was already near completion. He picked up the contract and began thumbing through it. He already had non-compete and confidentiality agreements with his employees, contractors, and investors. He also went ahead with intellectual property protections- though that did little in terms of the frontier-styled justice the Netherworlds was prescribed to. It all just meant he would feel validated in sending out a hitman to enforce the intellectual property theft. That was a good enough start.
So, adding some further protection against potentially nefarious customers as well really wouldn’t be too much extra work for the staff down in legal, and it would go a long way in protecting the balance of things. He wouldn’t want his clients going to some two-bit demon in the shadow market, showing him up, and to top it all off, having no merchandise restrictions whatsoever. That would just be sheer negligence on Death’s part.
He pulled up the e-version of the contract, typed in his changes, and forwarded it to legal for updates. He wanted to apologize to his son, so he pulled his desk phone closer and dialed 666. He tapped his fingers while waiting for the giant to finish fucking Eros. Pick up the fucking phone already.
Loki’s voice came through the receiver. “Hello?”
Thanatos didn’t bother with pleasantries and asked, “Where is Damien?”
“Well, hello to you too. I don’t know. Not here.”
“What do you mean he’s not there?”
Loki was audibly frustrated. “As in... earlier he said he was going to bed, and then he must have decided against it and left.”
“Loki, you had one job. One.” Thanatos hung up the phone.
