Bargaining

"I don't think so." I said. "Saying your name gives you power. I'm not giving you anything for information. "

"That's a standard agent's fee. Ok, fine, I can see that you're a smart guy and aren't going to just roll over, so I'll offer you a standard talent contract. Ten. That's a reasonable fee, you have to admit." Zeus breathed again heavily, seeming to gain a bit of strength back.

"Ten what?"

"Do you want it in writing? We can do a contract if you don't trust me. I mean, I wouldn't blame you, there are a lot of unscrupulous agents out there who won't do a written contract. Me, I like contracts. I made one with this Moses guy a while back, and that has paid dividends like you wouldn't believe." Zeus shrugged, gesturing to a small bag that lay in the bottom of the booth, which had been obscured by a cloud of smoke.

I edged backwards, not taking my eyes off the guy as I leaned down to pick up the bag. I opened it, revealing a mess of paperwork, manila folders, what looked a roast beef sandwich on rye heavy on the fat with cheese and mayo, several furry magazines, and a small set of what looked like voodoo dolls. Looking closer, I realized that they were action figures.

"That one... the blue and grey one marked P." I looked back at him, and noted that he was now sitting at a desk, and dressed in what looked like a polyester suit. The white cloth was nearly blinding, and he wore no tie, his shirt gaping open and a large gold chain with a "Z" hanging neatly upon his chest. His beard was now neatly trimmed, and his hair was pulled back into a ponytail which was oiled in a manner that suggested he had just come from the barber.

The folder he referred to was covered in black ink. It looked like someone had taken a sharpie and crossed out everything, including the majority of the label, which simply bore one initial which was crossed out, followed by a black streak which totally obscured the remainder of the name. Underneath, in a small handwritten script, in what looked like pencil, the name "Penelope" was marked. It was faint, like someone had taken an eraser to it repeatedly, and almost succeeded, only to have the indentations so deeply in the label as to render the removal of the surface impression meaningless.

"This is... what is this?" I asked, seeing that Zeus had finished bringing out multiple folders and contracts from somewhere behind his desk and was attaching sticky notes and small arrows to the forms.

"That's your last contract. Pretty standard cult handover. You made the deal with me, Constantine took your symbol, after I marked it up a little, and two generations later, you don't exist as a goddess anymore. We demote you to a non-hero mortal, do up your statues in our colors and everybody forgets about you. I even gave you an amazing love story and wiped out those rumors about you that the Romans were spreading. Just like you wanted. As much as I could, at least..." He shrugged. "You can't work miracles when it comes to all reality, but at least I was able to shift the ithakan love idea onto a different island. Writing that shit while waiting for your husband would have totally given your little affair with my daughter away. I got rid of all the ones that made it obvious, and you have no idea how much work THAT was. They were popular."

I looked again at the folder. It seemed so simple, and light in my hand.

"You want to renege, be my guest, but I seriously doubt you're going to get anywhere without electricity. Without logic and Science. No cult can. Not these days. You get your mystical magical goddess mumbo-jumbo powers back, that everybody knows don't work, and so, of course, when you go back, they don't, and you go right into a loony bin if you try to talk about this. "

"You got rid of loony bins," I pointed out.

"I did? When did..." He pushed a button on his desk, "Ganymede? Did I get rid of Loony Bins?"

"Yeah, that guy Reagan you made a deal with to be president." A pleasant Tenor voice spoke back from the small box.

"Riiiiight... Those were some fun times for me," Zeus grinned at the memory, before shaking his head. "He's great. You want some coffee? No charge..."

"You gonna waive the part where I have to stay forever if I eat anything here?" I shrugged, noting that the stage seemed slightly smaller now. Wait, when did the roof get back on this place?

"Who told you that one? I mean, you're right, but I just want to know who leaked it. Players aren't supposed to know the rules." Zeus shook his head, "We're just going to have to make it more complicated next time, again. No charge, this is just hospitality."

"Ok then," I nodded, and was shocked when a nude young man with a hat that looked like a condom on his head ran out with a small tray. He practically danced up to the desk, placing a white cup with a corporate logo onto the desk before turning and proffering the tray to me. He was absolutely... well, the epitome of everything that certain Persian poets wrote love poems to. Attractive, moved well, clearly defined lines of muscle all over him, yet looked like he could satisfy every desire with those talented hands. On the tray sat a single cup: white, topped with a plastic protector, and a brown cardboard sleeve marked with my name.

"Thanks, " I nodded, turning my attention back to Zeus, who was looking on expectantly.

The moment continued for several seconds, before the young man hugged the tray to his chest and turned to look at the seated god.

"Daddy... I thought you said this was a porn world." He pouted, looking back at me expectantly and wiggling slightly.

"Penelope's a bit of a stuck up bitch, you know that, sweetie," Zeus shrugged, "Even when she's a guy, she's got a stick crammed pretty far up there."

I groaned, rolling my eyes.

"Tag-team negging? What's next? Good cop, bad cop where you bring..."

Ganymede turned and exited with no further ceremony. As I watched him go I noticed that the stage had several windows that had been hidden behind curtains. They were falling now, revealing that the very small stage was actually situated within a skyscraper, and I could see out over a skyline that I thought should feel familiar.

"Is this... hell?" I murmured, looking out over the artery of traffic that roared past several blocks away. It seemed almost unreal, but I knew that within every single car was a person with hopes and dreams that would never come true. All of them desperately searching for their dreams within a morass of creation, yet watching them crushed to base material. Food and fodder for the great engines that arteries led to.

"Hell, LA... same difference," Zeus shrugged. "What matters is that it's where you change belief. And working for me, I can give you access to it. You walk away from me. You get nothing. I throw you down there, right back to where you started. Only it's not going to look like that."

The traffic suddenly stopped, and the streets went quiet. Deathly quiet. The cars scattered like cockroaches, and within a moment all of the traffic had ceased. Occasionally a lone car would roam across the landscape. The office now seemed... wait an office? An office on a skyscraper, and below me, nothing but silence.

"Just took one button push to do that, Penelope. One touch, and the world stops. That's the power I have. I can let you in on it. Let you be that voice that is loved. Let you be loved again. And all I ask is a little percentage." Zeus placed his feet on the desk and relaxed his hands behind his head. "Would you like to look at the contract?"

I looked at the silent streets, the utter absence of life.

"Who suffers?"

"You keep asking that. You always ask that, Penelope. Come ON, who the fuck do you think you are, Jesus? That role's taken, and I'm not giving thirty three percent again!"

"Thirty three percent? You said ten...?" I argued, turning to see his face smiling.

"No, I said ten percent, please keep up. I'm offering you a thirty three percent contract, which is far better than most. Most agents only let you KEEP ten percent. I'm saying that I'm only going to take two thirds, which is far more generous." He smiled again, making a quick note on a piece of paper on the desk.

"That isn't what you said," I argued.

"Look, right here... it's right here on the contract, that you said you were going to sign." He pointed to the notation that he had just made, and there was no hastily scrawled note. Instead the paper looked perfectly typed, and written clearly on the contract was the number thirty three next to "Talent's Percentage of Net profit."

"Wait... Net Profits? Well, let me do the math here... thirty three percent of nothing... let's see carry the one..." I rolled my eyes, and I looked out again on the empty streets of the city. "You're lying. You've been lying. You are going to tell me whatever you think I need to hear to make a deal with you. You depend on my ignorance, and my being a fool. So... in the spirit of that..."

I took a deep breath.

"I want a lawyer."