“What is going on?” Maion-Lan-Lemuel was confused by the firework display. “Are you being attacked?”
“No way, the war is over.” Lieutenant Grace Zachariah looked at her patient carefully. “Yahweh is dead. Michael killed him. His first act after taking power was to surrender unconditionally to us. We’re occupying The Eternal City now. The fireworks display you can see is the celebration. If you think this is good, try watching the display at Las Vegas on television.”
“Michael loves Las Vegas,” Maion spoke reflectively. Her mind was still trying to accept all the things that were happening to her and many of them hadn’t properly been absorbed yet. “He loved New Orleans as well. When Yahweh wiped it out with a hurricane, it was one of the few times I have seen Michael really angry. Yahweh is really dead?”
The message had sunk in at last. The realization that the supreme authority figure in heaven that she had taken for granted all her life was gone left Maion looking lost and bewildered. As she had become accustomed to doing, she turned to Lemuel for support and guidance. “What will we do now?”
“We will get well, then we will go back to The Eternal City. There is so much that needs to be done, so many things that need to be put right. And there are many questions I wish to ask of Michael-Lan, ones that will take him much time to explain.”
Maion felt the impact of those words and they perturbed her. She stretched her wings out. They were still small but had almost quadrupled in size since they had started to regrow from the stumps left of her old ones. A few more weeks and they would be regrown. Then she would be able to fly again. The price being paid was that she was ravenously hungry most of the time. That was an unfamiliar feeling to her, nobody in the Eternal City ever got really hungry. “Lemuel. Remember Michael saved my life.”
“Having first endangered it. And having addicted us to his drugs.” Lemuel’s voice had no hint of doubt or any lack of resolve. “There is much he must answer for.”
“Well, you may have to wait.” Grace’s voice was sharp. She didn’t like things that got in the way of her ward running smoothly. “Michael is in charge of Heaven right now. Whether he stays there is up to General Petraeus. But, at the moment, he’s our person and we need him there. To be blunt Lemuel, we need him more than we need you. So don’t get in our way.”
Her words were interrupted by another barrage of fireworks explosions. Lemuel looked at them sadly, making Grace remember that, while the entire human race was celebrating the fall of Heaven, to Lemuel, the same celebrations marked the end of their history. Whatever happened next would be a new world for them. Nothing would ever be quite the same for the angels.
“You celebrate the end of the war?” Lemuel was confused. “I thought you humans loved war?”
“We’re very good at it. That doesn’t mean we like it. That may be why we are good at it, we want it ended.” Grace wasn’t quite certain of what she was saying or what she wanted to say. “For us, real war isn’t a game or a hobby. It’s a very real horror. Nobody knows that more than people who work in military medical facilities. You know those angels that came in with radiation injuries and cancers? We weren’t able to save any of them. Not one. They all died. I’d say if Michael made it unnecessary for us to do that to your entire race, then you should be damned grateful to him. Even if the personal cost to you two was high.”
She stopped talking, realizing that she had been shaken out of her professional persona. Watching the sick and radiation-poisoned angels dying had been a harrowing experience. It had been made bearable only by the nearby sight of the crippled victims of Yahweh’s concentration camp recovering from their injuries. She saw Lemuel staring at her, his eyes confused by conflicting emotions. Welcome to the human race, Lemuel. Moral ambivalence is the name of the game from now on. But, I guess it always was, you just fooled yourselves when you pretended otherwise. She completed Maion’s treatment chart and ordered another set of meals to be sent up to her. Her wings might be recovering but she needed a lot of food to provide the raw materials for regeneration.
USS Turner Joy, DD-951 AUTEC Transition Point, Earth
The fleet was lit overall, every mast and yardarm twinkling with lights while searchlights swept the sky in complex patterns. Overhead, the beams mixed with the explosions as some of the ships fired off their chaff and flare decoys in an attempt to emulate fireworks. Turner Joy was not taking part in the celebration, not from any desire to remain dark and silent, but because her crew was hard at work getting ready for the transit to Heaven.
“Are we ballasted properly?” Captain Reynolds was concerned about the transfer from salt water to the fresh water he presumed filled the Lake of Placid Contemplation. It would be acutely embarrassing if his ship was to transit into Heaven and promptly sink because of the lower density of fresh water.
“Yes Sir. We’ve made the 2.5 percent correction needed. By the way Enterprise is standing out of the water, so has she.”
Reynolds nodded and reminded himself to check the buoyancy numbers for himself before making the transit. “Any word from Heaven?”
“Nothing since the last sitrep Sir. The flying boat carrying kitten and her equipment landed safely on the Lake about an hour ago. Wait one Sir.”
There was a long pause from the communications room before the voice at the other end resumed. “New message has just come through, Sir. We’ll be seeing the portal forming very shortly and are to transit as soon as it is fully formed. We’re reminded it’s daylight in Heaven at this time. We’re also ordered to be at full action stations when we go through, closed up and ready to engage any hostile forces.”
“In a friendly manner of course.” Reynolds laughed, the time-honored U.S. Navy caution was a legend. “I could make myself wish that somebody that side would try something. All I ever wanted was to get Yahweh under my guns for a few minutes. Now he’s gone, we’ll never get that chance.”
“Sir, portal forming dead ahead.”
“Very good. Here we go people.”
Shores of the Lake of Placid Contemplation, The Eternal City, Heaven.
The human flying machine didn’t seem to be doing very much. Ohalam-Lan-Derepael had been watching it carefully but it seemed reluctant to erupt into action and start destroying everything around it. That was when he stopped in amazement at the realization he was afraid of these humans. That sudden insight mad him feel cold, a chill running down his back, between his wings. Yet the aircraft just sat there, floating quietly in the lake, doing nothing. Or so it seemed.
The portal formation took him by surprise. The great black ellipse started to form beside the flying boat, spreading quickly to reach enormous size. What happened next served only to heighten Ohalam’s fears. A ship came through the portal, one larger than anything he had ever seen before. It came through fast, a white wave around its bows, its long-barrelled guns scanning the horizon. Ohalam understood what that meant, the messages from the Ultimate Temple had been quite clear on that. Human guns were deadly. Don’t make them use them. Otherwise the whole city will suffer the fate of the Incomparable Legion of Light.
The gray warship slowed once she was through the gate and clear of the flying boat. She was doing something, Ohalam couldn’t understand what, but he guessed these humans saw it as being important. He contented himself with the knowledge that things would all become clear in due course. After all, hadn’t
Michael-Lan said all would be well in the end?
USS Turner Joy, DD-951 Lake of Placid Contemplation, Eternal City, Heaven
“We’re through, Sir.”
“Very good, change course ten degrees, take us clear of kitten’s Shin Meiwa. Water conditions?”