Issue 52 – Defended by the Devil
“The system can work,” Daredevil began, and I just held up my hand.
“Stop. You’re talking like a lawyer who believes in the system.” That definitely clammed him up. “I’m not from Murica. I can look at the system you have here from the outside with no bias, not the rosy picture your fiction-writers draw over it. The information in the Tribal lands isn’t written by your politicians, flower-vision idealists, and revisionist historians.
“This city has a huge problem with corruption, and I saw it firsthand myself tonight. The cops were bought off before a criminal was even arrested, and complicit in what was going to be their torture and murder thereby.
“Can you promise me that all of those men won’t be walking out of jail within two days?”
He wanted to say something, and failed. It wasn’t a promise he could back up. “Depending on their efficiency, they might be out by noon, save for Gladiator. They’ll send him up before McNally with a sex fetish argument, and since nobody is going to say anything, he’ll probably walk, too. After all, he wasn’t waving the blades around in public,” Daredevil admitted.
“You do know the system.”
“If you don’t know the names and how things work, you don’t get anything done in New York.”
“Unless you have just ridiculous amounts of money, and/or super-powers.”
“None of which matters to the common man on the streets. Stark being able to make flying power armor just means you don’t mess with him, and him acting like a hero just extends that into the media. When he makes a mis-step, he’ll be crucified for not being the perfect answer to all their hopes and dreams...”
“Sounds like you’ve experience with this phenomenon.”
“A lot of people believe that heroes think they are better than them. Watching 'heroes' fall is very satisfying to them.”
“It helps when so many of the watchers are morally bankrupt themselves, eh.” I just shook my head. “Well, there’s just doing what you can, when you can. It’s not like I’m geared to change the system from the inside.”
“You’re from out West?” His voice had that special note of longing and resentment that Tribals instantly identified as Murican. “What are you doing here? You don’t look like an Indian...”
“I don’t know anyone from India,” I admitted coolly. “Plenty of us pale-skinned sun-avoiding Caucasians on the Coast, Red.”
“Oh, right. California, the City of Angels...”
“Los Campeon has been put up for vote a couple of times, but the Champions keep swearing to move to Mexico if it passes, and really, the Angels are named after the city, not vice versa.”
“You’re still a long way from home. What brings you to the States, if you’re a Tribal?”
“If you mark my accent, and I know you have, you’d know that I’m probably European. I’ve just spent a lot of recent time on the Coast, and have a good opinion of the place... but they definitely don’t need someone like me there. This place obviously does.”
“Are you here legally?”
“Nope. Strange how nobody questions if I’m from the States by looking at me. No fringes and feathers and as pale as a ghost, speaks English with a charming accent... must be Murican.”
He winced. “You know that we consider that a pretty insulting word, right?”
“It’s a step up from calling yourselves followers of an opportunistic Italian merchant, right? And since it’s not the United Tribes of America and United Provinces of America, you don’t get to claim moral superiority for representing the continent.
“Plus, don’t get me started on Murican attitudes. The whole world knows what a Murican stereotype is. You’ll escape it as soon as you get rid of your racist, sexist, and revisionist history, along with your government that is still run by the rich, now more than ever.
“And since you still call the Tribes Indians without thinking, you can eat Murican in return.”
He looked like he wanted to argue with me, but calmed himself down. “Fair enough. We’ve definitely had our problems as a nation.”
“I’m going to go to a bookstore in the morning and read one of your history books. I expect to laugh until I cry.” I chortled under my breath. “Gods in Heaven, you Muricans do so love rewriting history to favor you.”
“We don’t need you to come over here and save us,” he rebuked me sharply. “You think we don’t remember some of the things the Tribes have done to us?”
“If you didn’t remember them, you’d still be trying to exterminate them or drive them onto reservations, corralling them while you steal their lands as you did half the continent before they got fed up with you,” I replied to that, unable to hide my amusement. “Was it the fact that they learned how to fight back at last, or the fact that you lost that upsets you more? I’m not Tribe, I’m just curious.”
He tensed, and slowly released his anger. “You’re baiting me.”
“To be fair, you started it. I just went with it.”
“Are you a polytheist?” he asked after a moment. “I notice you said ‘gods in heaven’...”
I rolled my eyes. “There’s a Greek god right over there in San Francisco. You have an Old Norse god or two running around here. What are you, a Christian? Going to argue they aren’t gods?”
“I am a Christian,” he confirmed. “And by our definitions, no, they aren’t gods.” Seeing I didn’t say anything to that, he forged ahead. “Powerful beings, certainly, but not, nothing like God.”
“Mmm.” I just shrugged. “You probably don’t have much contact with the mystical side of the world, do you?”
“Mystic...? You mean... magic?” he asked hesitantly.
“You are aware that magic is real and a thing, right? Earth’s Sorcerer Supreme lives on Manhattan Island, right over in Greenwich Village.”
He was taken aback. “No, I was not aware of that...” he admitted slowly.
“Well, he’s on a different level than you, so unsurprising. You’ve probably got some grasp of the spiritual layer of society, which tends to run through the martial arts community, but the magical community is totally separate.” I shrugged. “Anyway, you know the only thing the Christian churches are famous for in the mystical community?”
“I... can’t say that I do,” he admitted.
“Shutting down magic. That’s pretty much it. They don’t really Summon angels, they don’t call on the fires of Heaven, they don’t really heal. They shut down magic. Exorcisms, dispellings, abjurations, curse removal, banishments, magical suppression, and Sealing... that’s what they are famous for.
“In other words, from a magical viewpoint, the entirety of the Faith is geared towards making all other powers seem less powerful by getting rid of their magic, thus making themselves seem stronger in contrast. If you are prepared to fight without magic against an opponent who is used to fighting with magic, it works pretty damn well, too.”
To his credit, he thought about that slowly. “What about God?” he asked at the end.
“What about Him? Just another powerful entity, and one who is pretty hands-off in terms of managing His followers. All you have to do is look at all the horrid shit the churches that follow Him have done over the years to realize He really isn’t directing His mortal followers at all. The magical community acknowledges He exists, but whether or not He is actually more powerful than any other great Entity out there is impossible to judge, since He acts so mysterious all the time, and never takes direct action.
“Gods like Hercules and Thor, however, are also acknowledged as quite real, and powerful, and they are gods by all the definitions that mortals judge gods to be, not merely enhanced humanoids. They represent Concepts, they can receive Faith, they can dispense boons to their followers, and they can do battle with creatures mortals simply cannot face.
“Such beings are called gods. I acknowledge they exist. I also believe your God exists, but I just don’t dismiss all other beings because His church does, much as His priesthood might want me to.”
He looked up at the cloudy sky above, thinking things through. It was already a crazy world. The Atom could grow to the size of a planet. Primus, the things he could do were worthy of being called a god by any normal human. The Phoenix, well, she was channeling a cosmic force of power, technically beyond gods. Some of the technology displayed by the Tribes and the Russians was practically beyond belief.
“Is this Thor really a god?” he finally asked. “Can you... pray to him, and be answered?”
“Yes.” He twitched. “Granted, the prayers all blur together in his ear, and you’ve got to really stand out to get his attention.
“The reason there are standardized prayers is so he doesn’t have to think about them or be aware of you to grant them. He only has to be able to hear your voice as a faithful and grant the request.
“Are you aware there’s a Church of Hercules, out on the Coast?”
He twitched again. “I seem to have heard something of the sort. It was considered another sign of Tribal backsliding and savagery, or something.”
I rolled my eyes. “Typical Murican revisionism. He’s the actual Greek god of myth, and because there are beings who acknowledge that, they are savages? Well, since the Tribes acknowledge the Great Spirit, Eagle, Snake, Bear, Wolf, and the other Totems, I suppose them honoring and respecting a Greek god who has come to help defend them by acknowledging who and what he is makes them savages, sure.”
He winced. “It’s just... the idea of a god in the flesh, being right in front of us...”
“In other words, if Jesus the Christ came back, you’d be a savage to acknowledge him?”
He fell silent for a moment, considering that. “I... he is my god...” he finally trailed off.
“So this is merely an interfaith rivalry, and you’re denigrating the status of Thor and Hercules to puff up your own faith?” I queried. “I’m not a worshipper of either, mind you. Just curious.”
“I will have to think on this further,” he finally replied.
“Faith’s a hard subject,” I agreed easily.
“Are you... Christian?” he asked carefully. “You invoked Heaven...”
“Red, the concept of heaven existed thousands of years before Christianity or Judaism in multiple places and faiths. The fact is that I do believe in Heaven. That Heaven may or may not be the same one your faith espouses and supports, especially since I believe that there are multiple Divine powers whose powers and aims coincide with Heaven and are worthy of my acknowledgement of the fact.
“Heaven does not belong to just the Christians and their God,” I sniffed. “Although they try damn hard to make it seem it does.”
“It seems pretty strange you’d be fighting for a place whose beliefs seem at such conflict with your own.”
“Isn’t that the very definition of a crimefighter and hero?” I returned blithely.