Stuart Slade - Pantheocide

For once in his life, Michael was almost speechless. “Elhmas, you’re dead.” Even as he said it, he realized how stupid it sounded and cursed the chemically-induced fog in his mind.

“You wish. You know, Michael, you really ought not to get stoned with people you intend to kill. Especially if they have a higher tolerance of that stuff than you do. I knew what you were up to the moment your messenger suggested I move the Incomparable Legion Of Light as a single body. That’s a move nobody whose familiar with human war-making will make. I wasn’t expecting that nuke though, were you?”

Michael shook his head. “Air strikes, a lot of them. Not the nuke. How did you survive it? The people we interviewed said you were directly under the blast.”

Elhmas laughed, a little sadly. “I wasn’t. The commander of the Incomparable Legion was. I left Enatenael-Lan-Elhmas in charge while I performed a reconnaissance. By which I mean I was watching from a safe distance Luckily for me, it really was a safe distance. You know, right up to the flash-bang I didn’t know if you would really do it. I kept expecting you to suddenly open a way out. Then – flash-bang, all gone. So I made myself scarce and went into hiding. Oh, I knew what you were planning all right and had a shrewd idea how you would pull it off. So, when I felt my benighted and ineffable stupid father feeling out for my mind, I portalled away. To the Sahara Desert as it happened. When the humans went berserk after Heaven caved in, I came back. Now, it’s time to kill you I guess.”

Michael tried to summon up power to provide even a minimal defensive screen but the residual effects of the marijuana in his mind snarled up his concentration. He cudgelled his brain with the effort but it was no use. He was as useless and defenseless as an Ishim.

Elhmas looked at him sympathetically. “It’s not really fair is it? You’re stoned and I’m not. You’ve got no allies around and I don’t need them. It’s almost as unfair as sticking Enatenael under that nuke. You know the only reason why I’m not going to kill you Michael?”

Michael-Lan shook his head, frantically thinking for a way out of this situation.

Elhamas smiled gently. ” You see Michael, I recognized how dangerous humans were long before you did. So, I thought I would try and steer them into nice, peaceful ways. There was once this Jewish carpenter, Jeshua was his name. I possessed him and filled him up with nice-sounding ideas and had him go around preaching them. It worked quite well too, only the occupying powers got upset and they crucified him. I had to leave him there. I can still hear his screams while he was begging to know why I had abandoned him. Then some nut called Paul took everything I had had him teach, turned it on its head and inside out. What I had designed came out all wrong and caused even more trouble. A few hundred years later, I tried again and that was even worse. Centuries of slaughter and destruction and they weren’t over when this blew up. I had one last shot a few hundred years after that and it got even worse. Everything I has taught turned into an excuse for wars upon wars with more wars to argue the results of the first set.

“My way failed, Michael. Humans really don’t respond well to being taught things. They’ll ask awkward questions and find their own way. Your idea is to keep us out of their way and not fool around with them. I will say this for you, it does seem to work. That’s all that is saving your life Michael. Your way seems to work and it might be our salvation. It’s just lucky for you that I have no desire to take revenge for my father. In fact, the old fool got what was coming to him. I was cheering you on then you know.

“Anyway, just remember I’m still around and I can make life very awkward for you. So, don’t go mad with power the way my father did and you won’t be joining him.” Elhmas settled down on a chair and picked out a reasonable-looking joint. “Now, lets get stoned and talk about something pleasant. I hear female angels are starting to get pregnant. That’s going to mess your nightclub up isn’t it?”

Human Expeditionary Army Forward Headquarters, The Eternal City, Heaven

“There are three journalists and a gentleman from the Times seeking interviews with you Dave. General Michael Jackson sounded saddened and deeply sympathetic at the news. After what had happened to General McChrystal, the press were being kept at arm’s length.

“They can keep seeking.” General Petraeus nodded, then hesitated. “Only four?”

“There were five but one of the journalists stuck a microphone into Asanee’s face and asked some impolite questions. She told him he had big brass balls and then asked if he had planned on keeping them. He left very quickly. Michael-Lan is here as well.”

“Good. Mike, Yamantau want to know if there is an equivalent of the Minos Gate here in Heaven and, if so, where it is. Also, do bodies still come through it. My guess is that the division of Second Life humans between Heaven and Hell is beginning to become a real issue. Who goes where? And who makes the decisions.”

“I’ve got a feeling it won’t be us David.”

“I know what you mean Mike, civilian control of the military and all that. Do you want to try that line on Asanee?”

Jackson shuddered slightly at the thought. One of the subtler effects of the Human Expeditionary Army was that it had brought together armies that had never considered working with each other before. Many of those armies came from social backgrounds that were radically different from anything the others had contemplated. Concepts that some took for granted were unknown or even derided by others. Chief amongst these areas was the relationships between military and political authorities. Slowly, the various national contingents were beginning to have a genuine understanding of what made the others tick. Idly, Jackson remembered the fable about the Tower of Babel and how Yahweh had split humanity up by language to stop them building another such marvel. Was the H.E.A. now reversing that action as well?

Across the desk, Petraeus pressed a button on his intercom and asked the Duty Officer to bring Michael in. As he did, he and Jackson exchanged smiles. They made a point of meeting Michael here; although the rooms were oversized, they were still uncomfortably small for the big Archangel. It was quite impossible for him to either enter the room decorously or strike poses once inside. “Mike, do you get the feeling Michael isn’t quite what he was?”

“You mean, has he had the stuffing knocked out of him? I got that feel as well. About time too, he was too full of himself when we got here. Tossing him out on his ear was a good move Dave.”

“There’s more to it than that. We need to keep a close eye on him. But, I meant that it may not be humanity’s choice who goes where. We may find we have to play the cards we get dealt. We’ve still no idea on what lies the other side of that gate.” There was a photograph on the wall behind his desk that showed the hazards of the Minos Gate. As an experiment, DIMO(N) had driven a HEMTT up to the gate and then backed the rear half in. The vehicle was now half-size, the part that had been pushed through the gate boundary had vanished. Nothing that crossed that boundary ever came back.

The door opened and Michael-Lan inserted himself into the office by way of a door that was intended for beings half his size. Petraeus looked at him carefully and was convinced his initial impressions had been right. Something had been knocked out of this Archangel, the cocksure, daring self-confidence wasn’t gone but it had been dented and tarnished. And there was a calculating air about him, one that indicated he had been given a mighty problem to chew over.