The War in Heaven (12 page)

The great diverse hoard filed out of the room save six, those summoned by their master. Satan returned to his throne, even as they gathered at the bottom of the steps that led up to it.

“What do you have to report?” asked the Prince of Darkness.

“Fully a third of my legions are on Earth,” announced General Krell. “As such, they have drawn a huge number of Michael’s angels to that accursed globe. I am confident that he does not suspect that it is a rouse. I stand ready to withdraw all but a handful of them on your orders. They will be standing with you within two hours of your call, swelling the ranks of the legions I have available here in Hell. You will have a total of 122 million troops at your disposal, with an additional 12 million in reserve. We shall storm into and occupy all eleven of the angelic portals in Heaven, effectively isolating the angels on Earth from their brethren in Heaven. Even the angels in Heaven will have difficulty moving between its different levels. They will be cut off from one another, unable to communicate or mount an effective defense. It will be an operation of divide and conquer.”

Satan only nodded before turning to the next demon for his report.

“Lord Satan,” said Cerenak, “the power that you have required is available even as we speak.” A smile appeared on Cerenak’s face. “In very fact, you have fully twenty-two percent more energy than you had requested. We shall open wide the gate between Hell and Heaven. And in the case of unforeseen events, you will have vast resources, enough power to offer you many options. Never have we had such power at our disposal, and you will have more still, all that Kordor can supply. It will increase the strength and endurance of all of your warriors.”

Satan pondered Cerenak’s lofty claims for a moment. “Cerenak, explain to me one more time how this thing that you have created works.”

“Of course, my lord,” replied Cerenak. “Two of the key elements in winning a battle against the angels are strength and endurance, especially endurance. Because Michael’s brood were created to be warriors and we
were not, this has been a problem. But now our warriors will be able to draw upon a vast reservoir of power that was previously not available to them. The power of which I speak will be transmitted directly from the City of Sheol to seven large crystals that will be carried into Heaven with our warriors. They will act both as receivers and reservoirs for that power. As your minions grow weary, they will be reinvigorated by the power that emanates from these crystals. They will be able to throw many fireballs in rapid succession without being drained and fight tirelessly against their opponents without growing weak. They will be the super army you have always desired.”

This surprise brought a smile to Satan’s face. He had hardly thought it possible. He had asked much of Cerenak, perhaps more than was reasonable, and this relatively minor minion had produced even more. Satan rose to his feet. “Well done indeed, my faithful servant. When this war is won, I will personally see to it that you are well rewarded.”

“It is a pleasure to serve,” said Cerenak, bowing low.

“Which brings us to the matter of Earth and its demise,” said Satan, turning to another of his minions. “What do you have for me, Wormwood? Is this icy shard of a world, this world I named after you in honor of your accomplishment, still on course? Will it strike Earth?”

Wormwood was taken by surprise. Never had they spoken of this before the other minions; it was a private matter. “All is as it was before. There are no mistakes. However, we might be in danger of being found out.”

“Explain,” replied Satan, in a surprisingly calm tone.

“There are groups of men, scientists, they call themselves, with instruments that scan the skies,” began Wormwood. “One of these groups has already discovered the object, though I don’t believe that they as yet comprehend the gravity of their situation. My agents have hindered their efforts, caused problems within their instruments. But they continue to scan. I fear they are about to realize the danger.”

“Is there anything that they could do at this point?”

“Perhaps,” replied Wormwood, “They are not as helpless as they once were.”

That comment elicited a raised eyebrow from the master. “I assume that you are doing something to correct this problem?”

“Yes,” confirmed Wormwood. “I am endeavoring to deal with the problem on a human level. I am anticipating success. I have not labored so long to be thwarted at this point. There will be no mistakes, rest assured. The Comet Wormwood, this Sword of Satan, if I may be so bold as to call it that, will deal a death blow to the human race. Even if some of them survive the terrible blow it deals them, they will inherit a dying world.”

“Yes,” said Satan, “I like the sound of that—the Sword of Satan. Thank you Wormwood.”

Wormwood bowed before his master.

There was murmuring among the others at this surprise announcement, this revelation. Only Cordon seemed unimpressed.

Satan turned to Governor Molock and his new assistant, Lieutenant Cordon. “Have any more humans disappeared from their places of torment since our last meeting?”

Molock looked to Cordon, yet his lieutenant seemed hesitant. “No, no more disappearances from the places of torment,” confirmed Cordon.

Satan nodded approvingly. He directed his gaze at Cordon. “Are you making any progress regarding the person or persons responsible?”

“Actually, quite a bit,” he replied. “We now know that it was not the act of a single individual but a group of the dark angels, perhaps all of them. We also know that they are in possession of some new transportation technology, not unlike your ring. They also are using some new creature, perhaps some sort of small insect hybrid, to assist them. It is large numbers of these creatures that have been identified as a dark cloud by some observers. We believe them to be highly intelligent, but not invincible.

“We also know that the dark angels are selecting individual humans whom they feel might be of some use to them. But they will make a mistake—I am certain of it. Eventually a pattern will emerge, and we will set a trap for them. It is only a matter of time. We will bring this incident to an end and return the souls to you so they can continue their service of pain.”

Satan turned to Governor Molock, nodding approvingly. “I like this one. You are surrounding yourself with talent.” Molock smiled, bowed, but said no more.

“Then I have an announcement for all of you,” said Satan scanning his audience. “The Father will be calling a meeting of the angels very soon. It will be at this meeting that I issue my challenge to Michael. I believe that the Father will allow it.” Satan turned to Cerenak. “Will you be prepared to disrupt the gateway between the worlds when I return?”

Cerenak smiled. “I am ready now my lord, or anytime you give the word.”

Satan’s smile grew. He was hearing everything he had hoped to hear. His day was near. He was sure of it. “Then come to a high state of alert, my friends. I cannot say when the Father will call me. It could be within a matter of days. When I depart, I want everything in readiness. You must be ready on short notice. Good work, everyone.”

Satan was rarely in such a mood as this, and even more rarely so complimentary to his minions. As they departed his presence, there was on the surface an upbeat spirit, but below the surface was another matter. There were undercurrents, secrets, and hidden agendas.

Governor Molock looked toward his lieutenant as they walked into the anteroom. “In all of these high level meetings, have you noticed the conspicuous absence of someone?”

“Yes,” replied Cordon, “Beelzebub has not been present at any of them. I thought he was Satan’s closest confidant.”

Molock chuckled. “Hardly. Satan and Beelzebub are not on the best of terms these days, though Satan would not have that fact widely known. Satan views Beelzebub as a rival more than an ally. I suspect that he is not too far from the truth. In fact, he will not even be accompanying the master to Heaven when the invasion is finally called. He will be relegated to commanding what few forces remain behind. Beelzebub is a deceiver and Satan knows it; he will not have him by his side.”

“He is not the only one,” replied Cordon. “Wormwood too plays a dangerous game of deception.”

“Explain,” bid Molock.

“Wormwood deceives the master when he claims to be the author of this impending disaster, this collision of worlds.”

“Then it will not strike the Earth as he claims?” asked Molock.

“It will strike Earth,” confirmed Cordon, “of that I am certain, but Wormwood is not the author of this disaster. When he began the project to alter the course of history by bending the path of an icy rock in deep space, I was with him. We had convinced ourselves that psychic force alone could bend the path of balls of ice and rock weighing billions of tons. We were wrong; when we got there, we discovered that we could hardly move a speck of dust. Yet after convincing the master to give his blessings and resources to our project, what could we do? It was then when we discovered this very special object, one already on a collision course with Earth. It was an incredible stroke of luck—so we took credit for its trajectory ourselves. Afterward, I quietly dropped out of Wormwood’s team for fear that our deception would be uncovered, but it wasn’t. Now Wormwood and his minions are heroes of the cause. Such irony.”

“So you do not like deception, do you?” asked Molock. “Know this Cordon, you are now in the quagmire of deception every bit as deep in as I or Beelzebub, or Wormwood, for that matter.”

Cordon looked toward his boss. He seemed totally calm. “I did not lie to the master, if that is what you are implying.”

“Oh, is that so?” retorted Molock. “What of this Julie Rodriguez that was lost from right under your nose?”

“She was not in torment,” retorted Cordon, “therefore, I did not lie. And there is something else. I know how they got her out—it was a tunnel, a portal, if you will, that leads through a fissure in space and time. I suspect that it is even more sophisticated than that possessed by the master, though I would not say that in his presence.”

“I fail to see how this helps us,” replied Molock.

“Oh,” said Cordon. “Did I not mention that it leaves a detectable trail after it is closed?”

That brought Molock to a dead stop. “A trail?”

“Yes, and as it would happen, I am a seer. Not the best, but I am one, nonetheless. The tunnel left an ethereal fingerprint and a trail. It is a trail that can lead through solid rock for it is not part of our space or our reality. The last traces of it had nearly dissolved by the time I arrived at Julie’s cell, but I could sense it. It led off into the west. I believe it led directly to the hiding place of these soul thieves. If we can identify enough of these tunnels, determine from whence they came, we will eventually pinpoint the base of operation of these rebels. Consider the loss of this Julie a gambit. We would not have learned this without her. I did not get the name of this dark angel, but I did gain a means by which we may track him down.”

“Excellent,” said Molock, knowing not what else to say.

“There is one other thing,” said Cordon. “A device the likes of this was not built in Hell, not by the dark angels. They got it from somewhere else. Someone is helping them.”

“Angels in Heaven,” deduced Molock.

“Most likely,” confirmed Cordon. “However, do not dismiss the possibility that other humans might be involved. We underestimate humankind, and that is a serious error on our part. They have come quite a way over the years. It is just such thinking that lost Serena Farnsworth to us. She was the first. Do you know who was second?”

Molock thought back. “Bedillia Farnsworth, her mother.”

Cordon nodded. “Does that not suggest something to you?”

“Only that the two disappearances are linked,” replied Molock, who was on the move again. “Clearly, the same party was responsible for both. I think that we all realize that.”

“Yet, those who sought the answer to this mystery in the past were not asking the right question,” continued Cordon. “I, on the other hand, am. I’m looking at all the disappearances in the order in which they occurred. There is something here, something important. It is not random. And when I figure it all out, I may also know where to begin the search for the rebels. Indeed, I will also know what it is that they are about. That too is vital information. We will get them, sir. In the end, we will get them. It is only a matter of time.”

L
eslie Lopez leaned back against the wall of her small, dirty, south Phoenix apartment. Her green eyes focused on the small syringe still setting on the hardwood floor by her side. She had injected its load of meth 20 minutes earlier. In an act of desperation she had injected a lot, more than ever before. The total mind numbing euphoria she had once gotten from this stuff just didn’t happen now. But she couldn’t move onto something else; no, meth wasn’t about to let her go. It was like a jealous and possessive lover. It would never allow her to pursue another, she was stuck.