that rage and hate will pour out and be directed at Yahweh and Yahweh alone. Directed away from the Angelic Host, all thrown at Yahweh himself. I’ve said this before Raffie and at risk of being a bore, I’ll say it again. If humans burst into Heaven and decide to start shooting at us, we’re gone. All of us. Humans are too good at killing, they have to be diverted to another target. Something that will absorb their energy – and their firepower.
“And that’s why we’re going to drop rocks on New York. There’s something there that when we drop rocks on it, will send them mad. They’ll be filled with rage and hatred and they’ll want only revenge. Then, that’s when we’ll give them the chance and the target.”
Michael-Lan completed the arrangements and decided it was time to set the final pieces of his scheme into motion. “Raffie, we’re getting near the endgame now. Soon, I’m going to have to face off against Yahweh. You need to start getting our act together. I’ll need every bit of support I can get when that happens and I need to make sure that Yahweh sits on that throne, alone and isolated.
Gabriel-Lan nodded in acknowledgement, went to the window and launched himself from the ledge. Michael watched him flying across The Eternal City and sighed sadly. His comment to Gabriel-Lan had been accurate, things really were getting close to the end-game now and this was where bad things happened. He stepped out on to the ledge himself, inflated his flight sacs and took off.
Slums, The Eternal City, Heaven
“So, what has your progress been to date.”
Qaphsiel-Lan-Shekinah looked at the shining white figure that towered over him and shuddered slightly. When he had been recruited into the idea of an insurgency in Heaven, the idea had appealed to him. Now, he had seen what really lay behind the words and concepts and he, more than anything else, simply wanted to turn the clock back.
“As you instructed Mighty Lord, I have instructed the cells in our movement to plant bombs in the market places where the humans and Ishim buy their goods. Each bombing has been followed by demands to release political prisoners, whatever they may be, and make concessions to the humans and the lower-rank members of the Angelic Host. Our demands have been ignored, of course.”
“And so, your campaign must continue. Where do you plan to plant your bombs next?”
“In the temples Might Lord, those run for the humans and for the Ishim. We will continue there before returning to bomb the markets.”
“Very good. And the other matter you were ordered to watch.”
“Lemuel-Lan-Michael, Mighty Lord? There was a great dispute in his abode not more than a few hours ago. He publicly repudiated his mate Onniel and drove her out. She wanders the markets now, in a state of shock, without knowing what to do or where to go. Behind her back, the others laugh at her for when she was Lemuel’s mate she struck great poses and was always quick to cut others down with her tongue. None have sympathy for her and none go to her aid.”
“Excellent. Now, there is fresh work for you Qaphsiel-Lan-Shekinah. You will plan and execute the abduction of Onniel. When she is in your hands, you will move her to a place of safety from which she will be unable to leave or communicate with anybody. Plan this most carefully so that there is no sign of anything untoward happening to her. It must appear that she has simply left fro another part of The Eternal City. Do you understand that? That is the most important part of this whole operation.”
“What is the aim, Mighty Lord? To hold her for ransom? Or make demands that must be fulfilled lest her existence be ended?”
“You are curious Qaphsiel-Lan-Shekinah? Salaphael-Lan was curious also and look what has happened to him. Now, he sits in the darkness, babbling meaningless chants to himself, his mind gone beyond redemption. So, are you curious Qaphsiel-Lan-Shekinah?”
Qaphsiel-Lan almost lost control of his bladder when he thought of what had happened to Salaphael. “No, Mighty Lord, I am not curious. About anything.”
“Very good. Do not ask questions above your station again. But, I will tell you this. This kidnapping is but the first. There will be another of much greater importance than this one. You will rehearse your plans well and the kidnapping of Onniel will be the test of your plans. Do you understand this?”
“Yes, Might Leader.”
“Then go and make your plans. And plant more of your bombs, the campaign must continue.”
Qaphsiel-Lan-Shekinah gathered his wits together and left as quickly as he could. These meetings always filled him with fear of what might happen if he said the wrong thing or failed to complete his orders. He didn’t understand what he was doing or why, none of it made any sense to him. But one thing he did know, and he knew it all too well, was that doing exactly as he was told, no more and no less, was the only thing that stood between him and the horrible fate that had befallen Salaphael and the rest of the organization.
Watching him go, Michael-Lan carefully evaluated the scheme that was now running into its most critical phase. It was dangerous, although things had worked more in his favor than against him and the way things had developed had helped him. It was timing that was the problem, he’d been deadly afraid that the problems over the Fourth Bowl would throw his plans so far off schedule that the delay would be critical. The discovery of all the plots against Yahweh and the realization that he was not alone in wishing Yah-Yah’s downfall had helped him regain that time. He had feared he would have to subvert or assassinate the whole of Yahweh’s inner court; the discovery that they were all plotting against him had saved him from doing that. Now, the last great gambit was starting and, once again, Michael-Lan knew that he would have to be at its center if it stood a chance of succeeding.
He was gambling, he knew it, he was pitching his knowledge of humans, his ability to mold events and his understanding of how Heaven worked against Yahweh’s immense power. For all that, it was still a gamble. That was, after all, why he loved Las Vegas so much.
Chapter Fifty Four
Detention Area, Levin Reception Center, Phelan Plain, Hell
He’d heard that when the dead woke up in Hell, they did so in a comfortable hospital bed with a nurse standing by to take down their details and find any relatives that existed in the Second Life. Captain Alex Ben-Shoshan had found that a great comfort, most of his family had gone to the gas when they had been trapped in Russia during the Second World War. He had entertained hopes that his grandfather had been rescued from The Pit and could hear that Eretz Israel had finally won, that the longed-for homeland existed. But what he saw now was far from the scene he imagined. He was in a jail cell, a traditional western one with three brick walls while the fourth was a barred grid. Outside a stocky woman in her late middle age was staring at him, her eyes, cold, expressionless and unblinking. The gaze had all the emotionless menace of a poisonous snake. She was in army uniform although Ben- Shoshan didn’t recognize the decorations or the rank insignia. He did recognize one thing, the balanced scales of an officer from the Judge Advocate’s Division.
“Colonel Thanas? The prisoner is awake.”
The prisoner? What was going on here? The last thing he remembered was leaving his sinking submarine by the hatch in the forward end of the sail, seeing his men cut down by the relentless machine gun fire from the circling B-25 and feeling the impact as the heavy bullets struck him. Then, everything contracting to a small spot of light, some strange sights and sounds that seemed to go on for ever yet be instantly forgotten before the point of light expanded again to place him here. Where was here?
“Captain Alex Ben-Shoshan, commanding officer of the Israeli Navy Submarine Tekuma. You are charged with crimes against humanity, treason against the human race, one hundred and fifty three thousand, six hundred and twenty counts of murder in the first degree and failing to complete your navigation logs. I am placing you under arrest for these alleged crimes. I will now read you your rights. You have the right to make a full confession. If you do not wish to make a full confession we will beat the crap out of you until you change your mind. You have the right to have a lawyer write your confession for you. If you cannot afford a lawyer, boy are you screwed. Do you understand these rights as I have read them to you?”
“Yes, I think… What is going on here?”
“We will ask the questions.” Colonel Thanas looked at the woman who was still staring at Ben Shoshan. “I’ve always wanted to say that.”
