“That’s what our team leader says as well. Anyway, according to the official version, Yahweh asked Michael- Lan to take over in his absence. He’s formed a council of state or something to rule Heaven and he wants to end the war.”
“Do we have any confirmation of this?” Petraeus snapped the words out.
“We do, David.” Gillespie had returned, a big grin dominating his face. “Our team has reported the same thing. More or less. Apparently, there was one hell of a fight in the Ultimate Temple, virtually wrecked the place according to my people. One followed by a very big splash in that lake we’ve all been looking at.”
“Just where are your people?” Jackson sounded envious. The Australian message sounded as if their insert team was close to the city center while his were in the outskirts. “On second thoughts, don’t answer that.”
“And we have an Angel surrendering. This isn’t a coincidence people.” Petraeus turned to his communications panel. “call General Dorokov and General Ti Jen-chieh. Then get through to General James Conway. Tell him to get his Marine Corps task group ready. Major staff meeting coming up as soon as I’ve heard from that angel.”
Chapter Seventy Eight
Heaven-17 Forward Airfield. Heaven
Humans had changed Heaven already, were recasting it in their own image and rebuilding it to their own needs. What had once been a bucolic pastoral scene with winding earthen roads separating lush green fields tended by happy peasants was gone forever. The roads were being converted to blacktop, straightened out and painted with strange hieroglyphic markings. Yet those changes were nothing compared with the human work he was standing on. A great blacktop strip, 4,000 yards long and 50 wide, with arrays of lights at both ends and smaller service strips all around it. Raphael-Lan would have been even less happy about the change if he had known that all the blacktop he was seeing was asphalt brought in from Hell.
Around him, engineers were still hard at work building the airfield. Several teams were erecting strange buildings to house the human’s fighter aircraft that were already operating from here. Inside those shelters, the aircraft would be safe from weather and sonic attacks. Raphael looked at the buildings with interest, noting that they were built on shock-absorbent mountings. The four F-15s that had brought him to this base were parked on the hardtop a few dozen yards away. Raphael noted that nobody really seemed interested in him. He didn’t let that impression delude him, these were humans and he was very sure that something incredibly lethal was trained on him. He was, of course, entirely correct in that assumption.
The sound of Heaven had changed as well. The wind sighing in the trees, the rustle of grass, the far-off sound of the happy humans singing hymns as they worked in the fields had all disappeared. They had been drowned out by the growl of diesel engines, the roar of earth being scooped up and moved and the crash as anything that got in the way was ruthlessly chopped down. Even those sounds were drowned out now and then as the sky-ripping howl of jet engines briefly dominated the scene. Raphael reflected there were a lot of human aircraft around. The vicious little fighters, the great pot-bellied transports, the ominous shadows of the bombers, the humans surely did love their aircraft and they had some tailored to every need they could think of. Perhaps it was because they had no wings themselves and needed their machines to fly?
There was a new sound, a curious pulsing noise. Another human aircraft was approaching, this one a helicopter. A large helicopter with a single rotor over its fuselage. It swung in to land a few dozen yards away from him. As soon as it was down, the tail ramp dropped and a group of humans walked out. Raphael reflected that was another change in Heaven. Before, the humans who lived here had been friendly and grateful for the kindness shown to them. These humans were not grateful for anything and certainly not friendly.
Human Delegation, Heaven-17 Forward Airfield. Heaven
“Mike is upset he isn’t here for this.” Asanee spoke with a certain degree of relish.
“One of us had to remain at base in case this is some sort of trap.” Petraeus stood up and groaned. Unobtrusively he reached into a pocket and took a pair of Motrin tablets. “No disrespect meant Asanee, but I need a General who is also a politician here. We don’t want to repeat the mistakes Norm Schwartzkopf made at the end of ODS.”
“No offense taken David. Mixing the two roles is a familiar thing in our Army. Three roles in fact, we also run businesses. Are you sure you do not wish to carry a gun to this meeting?” Asanee’s right hip was weighed down by a Desert Eagle pistol, one that she had owned for years before the demands of the Salvation War had made its heavy-caliber bullets vital.
Petraeus shook his head. “Not necessary. It’s a subtle message to this messenger that I can have him killed without worrying about doing it myself.” He paused for a second. “Have you ever actually fired that thing?”
“At people? Twice. They both died. But it was mostly to impress others, to make them remember me. I’d put it away before all this started.” Asanee saw they were approaching the angel patiently waiting on the taxiway and dropped back so she was following a respectful distance behind Petraeus.
“You bring a flag of truce?” Petraeus’s voice was clipped and certain. “And you are?”
“I am Raphael-Lan-Yah… Lan-Michael. I come here under a flag of truce to bring you a message from Michael himself. He has seized power in The Eternal City. With the aid of his fellow-insurgents, he has killed Yahweh. He did this for one purpose and for one purpose only and that is to bring this war to and end. I am charged with negotiating an end to hostilities between us. As a first step we are declaring The Eternal City an open city. It will not be defended and it’s gates will be thrown open to you.”
Petraeus glanced quickly over his shoulder and saw Asanee shake her head slightly. He agreed, what he had just heard was a skillful mixture of bullshit and truth. The trouble with such mixtures was that even a small amount of bullshit made the whole mix stink. “You expect me to believe that Michael overthrew Yahweh just to end this war?”
Raphael smiled at the human standing below him. “Of course not. Yahweh had gone completely mad. What was once a peaceful and happy community here in Heaven was being torn apart. Yahweh had already betrayed you humans by slamming the doors of Heaven in your face. He betrayed us by ruling with fear, arresting and tormenting all those who displeased him. You have found the concentration camp he founded for those who dared disagree with him? There may be more, I do not know. If there are, I beg you, in Michael’s name, to find them and rescue those within. Ending this war is a part of remedying the harm Yahweh’s madness caused.” Raphael looked sadly at the blacktop roads and airfield, heard the roar and hammering of machinery and his next words were truer than anything else he had said. “Michael understands that things have changed forever and we can never go back to the past.”
“So what are your terms?” Petraeus was slightly impatient. Apart from anything else, his back was killing him and he urgently wanted to sit down.
“The simplest possible. Michael-Lan-Michael, Commander of the Angelic Host, ruler of the Eternal City and all that surrounds it, wishes to surrender unconditionally to you. He has ordered all resistance to you to cease with immediate effect. He asks you to understand that communications are slow and uncertain here in Heaven. We do not have much in the way of radio equipment.”
Petraeus heard the tiny cough from behind him. “You have some radio equipment?”
“We do, we have the ability to make limited broadcasts from our headquarters to a few trusted allies. That was essential for our coup to succeed. But, for the rest, we rely on couriers and message relays. So, spreading the word of surrender will take some time. Also, there may be Yahweh loyalists and other hold-outs who may continue to resist. If so, their fate will be in their own hands. And yours of course.”
“So you expect us to kill off any resistance to your coup? Not going to happen. If they attack us, they die. That’s all.”
“Heaven is a well-ordered place and we do not expect resistance. All we say is that if any misguided angels do resist, it will not be our doing. If we can, we will throw the gates of the Eternal City open to you.”
“If you can?”
“Those gates are vast and have not been opened since they were built. We are not even sure they can still be opened. If they cannot, we must ask you to blow them open.”
Petraeus nodded. “Very well. On behalf of the Yamantau Council and subject to their approval, I will accept your unconditional surrender. General Asanee, call General Sir Michael Jackson and advise him that the Angelic Host
