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So he only had one course of action. Bub had to be destroyed. Just as David had slain Goliath, Shotzen had to destroy a giant of his own. It was treason, he knew. The United States might very well execute him. But if he got out word to Jews worldwide, he believed the support would be total. He would truly be the savior of his people. They might even embrace him as a hero. And his memoirs, so long thought to be a pipe dream, might some day be studied at yeshivot around the globe, alongside with the work Rabbi Moses ben Maimon and Rabbi Akiba ben Joseph.

Normally, he would consult a bais din, a house of justice consisting of three Rabbis, to discuss the legal points of killing Bub. The Talmud Tractate Sanhedrin discussed setting up a court to try crimes, but this only applied to humans, of which Bub was not. Jewish law did allow for killing the pursuer without a bais din. In fact, if there is an obvious threat, G-d commands Jews to respond with mortal judgment.

Bub was an obvious threat to 14 million Jews, so Shotzen considered himself justified in destroying him.

Bub might kill him, of course. But he was willing to take the risk to save his people.

Shotzen outlined the plan in his memoirs; should he not survive there would at least be a record of his bravery and sacrifice. His first idea was to detonate the bombs that had been surgically implanted in Bub's head and chest. But the trigger for them was in Yellow 4, and it had a locked door with a keypad entrance. Only Race could get in there.

Shotzen decided the next best way to destroy Bub was with fire. The flames could possibly even set off the bombs. He could sneak into the habitat while Bub slept. But what to use?

The rabbi harkened back to his youth and remembered a hate crime; a synagogue that had burned to the ground. Vandals had thrown a bottle filled with kerosene at the front door. That kind of incendiary weapon had a name, Shotzen recalled. A Molotov cocktail.

Samhain had a back-up generator that ran on gasoline. Shotzen could fill an empty schnapps bottle with gas, stuff a sock down the bottle neck as a wick, and he'd have a fire bomb. One should be enough; after all, one destroyed an entire two story synagogue. Shotzen decided to make two, just in case.

He had half a bottle of schnapps plus the empty from the night before. Shotzen indulged in a quick slug to calm his nerves, and then dumped the rest of the liquor down the sink. He placed both bottles in his pillowcase and left his room.

He walked quickly and with purpose. The Octopus was empty. Shotzen took the Yellow Arm to room 8, the generator room. He turned on the lights.

The generator sat silently in the corner, a large green appliance the size of several refrigerators. Off to the right was a gasoline pump, an older version of the modern day gas station model. Shotzen set down the pillowcase and removed the bottles. The gasoline shot out of the nozzle like a garden hose, and the rabbi spilled as much as he bottled. Gas evaporated quickly, so Shotzen didn't worry himself over it.

He capped the bottles, put them back in the pillowcase, and headed for the Red Arm. He would check on Bub. If the demon was asleep, he would proceed. If not, he'd stick around until he had the chance.

Shotzen had trouble with the gates; his hands were shaking. When he approached Red 14, he opened the door just an inch and peeked inside. Dr. Harker was standing in front of the habitat, talking with the demon.

Rabbi Shotzen closed the door silently and contemplated his next move. He went through the first gate and decided to hold fort in Red 7. It was a small storage room. There were various cleaning supplies scattered around. Shotzen set the bottles down next to a collection of mop heads, then sat down and removed his socks. He unscrewed the bottle tops and stuffed one sock into each bottle neck. Then he tilted the bottles upside down, saturating the makeshift wicks with gas.

He had a several disposable lighters in his pocket. In his room was a collection of over thirty. His wife Reba had smoked, and Shotzen's method of discouraging her was to constantly take her lighters. She never did quit, but for some reason he'd never gotten rid of them. Strangely, they were all he had left to remind him of Reba. The get granted her possession of everything, down to the last photograph.

Shotzen said a quick blessing, wishing her the best wherever she was. He bore her no ill will. His sterility and his alcoholism were more than any woman should have had to bear.

He took out a lighter and flicked it once. Twice. No flame.

He tried a second one and it worked instantly. Shotzen adjusted the flame to its greatest height, almost two inches. Then he shook it to make sure there was plenty of fluid left.

There was.

He heard voices in the hallway. Sun and Andy. He could also make out the footfalls of sheep. They were bringing Bub his lunch. Good. Bub usually took a nap after eating. That would be the time to strike.

Shotzen checked his compass, something he'd gotten from Race and always carried around, and faced east. He took his siddur—his prayer book—from his pocket and read the afternoon service. Then, while still standing, he began to pray the Amidah. He prayed aloud and with kavanah—intent—but he kept his voice a whisper.

When the prayer ended he began to shuckle, rocking back and forth, davening to Adonai for judgement, purpose, and strength.

He was going to need it.

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

Dr. Julie Harker sat in the back of the room and watched impatiently as Sun led the two sheep into Bub's habitat. Andy Dennison, the interpreter, was helping her.

She’s screwing him, Harker decided. Didn't waste much time either; the guy had only been here a few days. It reminded Harker of her mother. She used to sleep around too. Harker couldn't count all the times she was taken to different men's houses and left in front of the television while her mom hurried to the bedroom. One more horrible memory from a horrible childhood.

Harker turned on the camera and videotaped the hideous spectacle, giving further credence to her earlier lie. Bub got down to business quickly. As soon as the sheep entered his domain Bub had grabbed each by the head. With a quick twist of his giant talons he broke their necks in unison, and then began to feast.

As Bub gorged himself, Sun engaged him in some brief conversation, asking why his hunger had increased. Bub explained that a creature of his high metabolism needed a lot of calories to maintain itself. Bub had only learned English yesterday, Harker noted, and was already lying like a pro.

The demon ate quickly, stuffing the final bit of the first sheep into his gaping maw only minutes after beginning. Through the zoom of the camcorder lens Harker could see that Bub was able to unhinge his lower jaw like a snake to get the big pieces down.

He began to chow down on the second sheep, causing Harker to stop taping and shoot him a look. The extra sheep was to become Harker's little girl. Had she been tricked?

Sun and Andy neglected to stay for the second course, and when they left Bub stopped eating.

“That's supposed to be my child,” Harker snapped as she approached the habitat. “You're eating my baby.”

“Don’t woooooooorry,” Bub cooed.

“I don't want a daughter with bite marks out of her.”

“She'll be fiiiiiiiiiine.”

“I want her perfect.”

“She'll be fiiiiiiiiiine. Give me the cooooooodes”

Harker held the camcorder up to the Plexiglas. She pressed the stop button and rewound the tape.

“I recorded myself punching in the code, so you know it works. See for yourself.”

She faced the viewing screen at Bub and let the tape play. Bub kept perfectly still while he watched, like a cobra before it strikes.

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