“You know, that haircut is absolutely ridiculous.” Gabriel-Lan leaned back and looked at the figure sharing the room with him. He was used to the fact that he towered over humans but the difference was even more marked when he was dealing with this particular man who measured only five foot two. In fact, he looked a lot less than that now and the ludicrous hairstyle he had affected in earlier years had been replaced by a thinning, gray brush- cut. The man’s body seemed to have caved in on itself, he was thin and stooped over, lines of age prominent in the shrunken mask that was his face.
Around them, Kim Jong-Il’s bodyguards bristled at the insult but they dared not move. Any other person who had made a remark like that would have been arrested on the spot and sent to a prison camp for a prolonged and gruelling execution. The guards had more sense than to try the same on Gabriel-Lan, the personal messenger of Yahweh. Kim Jong-Il’s face was impassive as the insult registered, he also knew better than to argue with the great white figure before him. Still, he consoled himself with the knowledge that the benefits of dealing with these creatures far outweighed the annoyance of their supercilious arrogance.
Gabriel-Lan might have looked sleepy, and being honest with himself, he was still hung over from his activities the night before in the Montmartre Club. That same wealth of excesses combined with the attentions of Mistress Lailah had left him slightly reluctant to sit down but duty required him to carry out the messages. Also, he was well aware that humans were dangerous. Satan had forgotten that and now he was dead, along with Asmodeus, Beelzebub and Deumos. Abigor was little more than the human’s puppet while Dagon was even less than that. Taking humans lightly was something that put an entirely new definition on the word ‘unwise’. He saw Kim Jong-Il’s two female companions, one allegedly a nurse, the other certainly a female doctor, move forward carefully and quickly check on their patient. Looking at him, Gabriel-Lan came to the conclusion that Kim Jong-Il would be joining his father very shortly. One way or another.
“Have you considered that a great window of opportunity opens before you?” Gabriel-Lan tried to put some enthusiasm into his voice. “The human armies are tied down in Hell, trying to bring peace to the lands they have conquered there. They cannot be withdrawn easily and their operations have left humans weak everywhere else. Especially south of the border. An assault now, aimed at reunifying Korea under your leadership would be exploiting this moment of weakness to best advantage.”
“Much of the armor stationed in the South has indeed been withdrawn.” Kim’s voice was as weak as his appearance suggested it might be. “But the border fortifications remain. And the Americans…”
“The Americans are tied down in Hell, trying to pacify their occupation zone. And they have expanded their army so fast, their corps of leadership is spread very thin. Their army is but a shadow of what it once was.” And even that shadow is enough to roll over anything that gets in its way Gabriel-Lan added the thought silently to himself even as he repeated the words that Michael-Lan had given him. His official title might be The Messenger of The One Above All but Gabriel-Lan believed it was Michael who best understood the new universe that was exploding into existence around them. He’d warned the Nameless One, the Lord and God of all that starting this war with humans was foolish and could only lead to disaster, but Yahweh had been adamant. They had dared to question his words and for they he was bound and determined to deliver them to Hell. Only, it hadn’t ended that way, the attempt to deliver humans up to Satan had instead delivered Satan up to the humans.
Away from The Ultimate Temple, away from Yahweh’s obsession with forcing absolute obedience and unqualified adoration from the humans, Michael-Lan had explained his strategy to Gabriel and impressed upon him the vital necessity of this mission. “If we fight the humans, head-to-head, we will lose.” Michael-Lan had almost become impassioned at that point. “They have advanced so far, so fast, their armies are invincible. At best we can bloody them but the more we win against them, the worse will be our defeat in the end. There is but one force that can destroy a human army and that is another army of humans. If we can prevent them from assaulting us in Heaven and fight them with another human army on Earth, then we might survive this war that Yah-yah has forced on us.”
The memory of Michael-Lan’s blasphemous corruption of Lord and God of All’s name jerked Gabriel-Lan out of his reverie. Kim Jong-Il was still wittering on about the strength of the border fortifications and the danger that the Americans might intervene. Gabriel cut him off sharply. “It is truly said that it is the emptiest of vessels that make most noise. You have a reputation, Kim Jong-Il but you know what reputations are? Words and rumors. You are great with your words and make many speeches but they mean nothing. What matters now are deeds and where deeds are concerned yours are conspicuous by their absence. Perhaps it is time for your father to return to his homeland and for the Great Leader to show the Dear Leader what deeds are.”
“But Great Leader is dead.”
“So? When did that make any difference?” Gabriel-Lan reflected that Kim Il-Sung actually looked a lot better than his son did. Given their present states, Kim Il-Sung could actually be mistaken for Kim Jong-Il’s son rather than his father. “And, anyway, you of all people should know that he is dead. By the way, he wants an explanation as to why you puffed him in the face with that cyanide spray. If you are unprepared to take action, perhaps we should allow him to return and demand that explanation. After all, he is the “Eternal President” of this benighted country. Perhaps he should take up the reins again.”
“No.” Kim Jong-Il was almost panic-stricken. “You are right, the time has come for the Great Reunification Effort. We will get ready for it at once.”
Gabriel-Lan rose to his feet and shook his wings to ease the cramps brought on by the confined room. “That is good news. I will watch your preparations with interest.” He left the room, leaving consternation behind him. As he did, he made a quick time calculation. If he got a move on, he would be back in time for another appointment with Mistress Lailah.
Main Command Building, Naypyidaw, Myanmar
“An impressive consignment. Your people have done well.” Michael-Lan checked the cargo manifest off with pleasure. Heroin number three and number four, raw opium, methamphetamines, ecstasy, DOM, it was all there in more than adequate quantities. Generous even, the supplies would restock his dwindling stash nicely.
“We are pleased to supply our ally’s needs.” Secretary-General Myint Oo addressed Michael-Lan as an equal which irked the Archangel greatly although he concealed his feelings behind a friendly smile. “We have established new factories for the synthetic products and driven our rivals for the heroin supplies out of business. We can increase supplies still further if you wish.”
“That would be most acceptable.” Michael-Lan paused for a second. “Can you supply cannabis as well?”
“Of course. For a price.” Myint Oo gave Michael the reminder gently but firmly.
“Of course.” Michael-Lan fished out a bag and handed it over. “These should cover this shipment I think.”
The bag was full of precious stones, diamonds, emeralds, rubies and sapphires. Myint Oo ran them through his fingers, extracting a few of the better stones for his own supply as he did so. The jewels were supposed to go to Myanmar’s ruling junta where they would be exported as if they were products of Myanmar’s precious stones industry and the proceeds into the junta member’s bank accounts. It was a good deal, Michael-Lan got most of the drugs he needed for his purposes while the Generals in Mynamar lined their retirement accounts. Only one General had argued with the arrangement and he was now in Insein prison on a charge of corruption. That had amused Michael-Lan greatly, to accuse somebody of corruption in Myanmar was rather like accusing water of being wet.
“There is another matter.” Michael-Lan spoke carefully. “Has it occurred to you that the Thai Army on the border is now weaker than it has been for many, many years?”
“It has.” Myint Oo spoke equally carefully. “Their armored division and both cavalry divisions have gone to join the armies fighting in hell. That means their strategic reserve has been depleted and their defense rests upon their infantry divisions alone. Many of those are in the cities to protect against attacks from daemons.”
“Does this not tempt you?”
Myint Oo dropped his voice. There was no need to but the subject of the conversation seemed to demand it. “It might allow us to redress the wrongs done to us in history.”
Oh, you little humans are wonderful. You can reach back into your past and find an excuse for anything. Even if you have to invent it. “If your government needs support, financial support, for such redress, there are many more where these came from. Perhaps the time has come for the redress you need.”
“Perhaps. It is an idea that has much favor.” Myint Oo looked sunwards and then at the black ellipse that hovered a few feet away. “Michael-Lan, we have a small gift for you.”
Michael-Lan hid his surprise with the same care as he had hidden his earlier irritation. “A gift?”
Myint Oo waved and some workers brought over a flat-bed carriage that made a whining noise. “An
