Good Omens

the right moment to become very substantial.
    Adam glanced up. In one sense there was just clear air overhead. In another, stretching off to infinity, were the hosts of Heaven and Hell, wingtip to wingtip. If you looked really closely, and had been specially trained, you could tell the difference.
    Silence held the bubble of the world in its grip.
    The door of the building swung open and the Four stepped out. There was no more than a hint of human about three of them now—they seemed to be humanoid shapes made up of all the things they were or represented. They made Death seem positively homely. His leather greatcoat and dark-visored helmet had become a cowled robe, but these were mere details. A skeleton, even a walking one, is at least human; Death of a sort lurks inside every living creature.
    â€œThe thing is,” said Adam urgently, “they’re not really real. They’re just like nightmares, really.”
    â€œB-but we’re not asleep,” said Pepper.
    Dog whined and tried to hide behind Adam.
    â€œThat one looks as if he’s meltin’,” said Brian, pointing at the advancing figure, if such it could still be called, of Pollution.
    â€œThere you are, then,” said Adam, encouragingly. “It can’t be real, can it? It’s common sense. Something like that can’t be reelly real.”
    The Four halted a few meters away.
    IT HAS BEEN DONE, said Death. He leaned forward a little and stared eyelessly at Adam. It was hard to tell if he was surprised.
    â€œYes, well,” said Adam. “The thing is , I don’t want it done. I never asked for it to be done.”
    Death looked at the other three, and then back to Adam.
    Behind them a jeep skewed to a halt. They ignored it.
    I DO NOT UNDERSTAND, he said. SURELY YOUR VERY EXISTENCE REQUIRES THE ENDING OF THE WORLD. IT IS WRITTEN.
    â€œI dunt see why anyone has to go an’ write things like that,” said Adam calmly. “The world is full of all sorts of brilliant stuff and I haven’t found out all about it yet, so I don’t want anyone messing it about or endin’ it before I’ve had a chance to find out about it. So you can all just go away.”
    ( “That’s the one, Mr. Shadwell,” said Aziraphale, his words trailing into uncertainty even as he uttered them, “the one with … the … T-shirt … ”)
    Death stared at Adam.
    â€œYou … are part … of us,” said War, between teeth like beautiful bullets.
    â€œIt is done. We make … the … world … anew,” said Pollution, his voice as insidious as something leaking out of a corroded drum into a water table.
    â€œYou … lead … us,” said Famine.
    And Adam hesitated. Voices inside him still cried out that this was true, and that the world was his as well, and all he had to do was turn and lead them out across a bewildered planet. They were his kind of people.
    In tiers above, the hosts of the sky waited for the Word.
    (“Ye canna want me to shoot him! He’s but a bairn!”
    â€œEr,” said Aziraphale. “Er. Yes. Perhaps we’d just better wait a bit, what do you think?”
    â€œUntil he grows up, do you mean?” said Crowley.)
    Dog began to growl.
    Adam looked at the Them. They were his kind of people, too.
    You just had to decide who your friends really were.
    He turned back to the Four.
    â€œGet them,” said Adam, quietly.
    The slouch and slur was gone from his voice. It had strange harmonics. No one human could disobey a voice like that.
    War laughed, and looked expectantly at the Them.
    â€œLittle boys,” she said, “playing with your toys. Think of all the toys I can offer you … think of all the games . I can make you fall in love with me, little boys. Little boys with your little guns.”
    She laughed again, but the machine-gun stutter died away as Pepper stepped forward and raised a trembling arm.
    It wasn’t much of a sword, but it was about the best you could do with two bits of wood and a piece of string. War stared at it.
    â€œI see ,” she said. “Mano a mano, eh? ” She drew her own blade and brought it up so that it made a noise like a finger being dragged around a wineglass.
    There was a flash as they connected.
    Death stared into Adam’s eyes.
    There was a pathetic jingling noise.
    â€œDon’t touch it!” snapped Adam, without