The Earth Hearing

by Daniel Plonix

  The stranger pocketed the book and glanced up at the elderly Levite. “Did anyone look at it except you?”

  Trembling, the Levite flung himself to the ground in fear. “No. It was only me.”

  “You are never to speak of its content to anyone,” pronounced the stranger.

  Paying no heed to the avowals made by the priest, the mal’akh app­roached Hagar and Lee. “Yahweh has accepted your sacrifice at the altar. I was sent to lead the way to Khevron.”

  The two women got up to their feet. And Hagar sighed in relief. In one stroke, everything changed. From being candidates for stoning, they were now being led to an audience with Yahweh. That was what she had hoped for from the start.

  The three of them walked out, and soon the houses and the olive trees were left behind them as the dirt road wound past gentle hills.

  “Is this…an angel?” Lee asked in a low voice.

  Hagar made a small, annoyed sound. “Mal’akh is an entity of the divine sphere. He is something of an envoy, something of a messenger. He is a semi-independent being, who at any point can become an avatar of El Shaddai.”

  “In that case,” asked Lee, mouth suddenly gone dry, “why doesn’t Yahweh simply address us right here and now—through him?”

  “Theatrics,” Hagar told her. “He wants us to come to his seat of power in this realm.”

  Lee stopped walking.

  “What?” asked Hagar, turning back.

  Lee felt as if a hand closed around her throat. Couldn’t Yahweh have done something on the scale of a burning bush or channel himself through the angel—or whatever the person ahead of them was? Even that was terrifying enough.

  Hagar walked back and took Lee’s hand in hers. With her other hand, she caressed the other woman’s hair. “Lee. Look at me, Lee.” She made eye contact. “I will face him.” She stroked Lee’s hair some more. “Okay?”

  Lee looked at her and managed a tremulous smile.

  They’d planned for this very moment. They have looked forward to it—much as one looked forward to a necessary open-heart surgery, one that is likely to end up with them given passage out of this world or being burned to a crisp. There was no way to get mentally ready to face the deity; Lee was as afraid now as the day Hagar had first told her of the plan.

  After hours of walk, the mal’akh commandeered on their behalf some food in another hamlet. Apart from that, he remained aloof and uncommunicative for the rest of the journey. Not once had he turned his head to see whether they followed him.

  “Hagar, on planet Earth, what did happen to the Ten Lost Tribes? Did the Assyrians disperse them throughout Asia? Where did they go?”

  The other woman waved her hand dismissively. “Most of them went nowhere. At least nowhere far. In total, about a fifth of the population was exiled. The rest, however, either stayed put or streamed south to the kingdom of Judah, which more than doubled its population during said period—and de facto became a kingdom of all the tribes, that is, the ten tribes you’ve just talked about and the two tribes that had originally made up the Kingdom.” The closer Hagar and Lee drew to their destination, the more they seemed to be talking and chattering about everything under the sun, the Earth’s sun, that is. They kept each other preoccupied and managed not to dwell over their imminent encounter with El Shaddai, which they both dreaded.

  It worked. The two have entered the grounds of the divine dwelling before they had even realized it.

  The mal’akh told the handful of people who were present to leave, and in short order, Hagar and Lee were standing alone in the stone courtyard. It faintly smelled of frankincense and cannabis.

  Facing the divine abode, Hagar bowed deeply. As she straightened, her attire began to change. It morphed into breeches of white linen and a shirt of purple, gold, and red-crimson weaves made with intricate roqem workmanship. Over it came a wool toga laced with linen strands. It was draped over one shoulder and sported infinite shades of indigo and royal blue. In the sun, gold glittered from a clasp on her sash and was reflected by her golden-blonde luxuriant hair.

  From behind, Lee stared wide-eyed at the woman she had made love to. Hagar was breathtaking. For the first time since she had met the woman, she looked like who she was: an alien, powerful being.

  Earlier, Hagar had explained to Lee that it was to be an all or nothing bet. With this choice of colors and mixture of fabrics forbidden to those of the common realm, Hagar had committed herself irrevocably. El Shaddai was to accept her as who she claimed to be or attempt to destroy her for crossing lines that ought not to be crossed.

  “Bat elohim, enter my earthly abode.” The deep voice emanated from the column of swirling dark clouds and blaze rising from the building made of large, alabaster-colored stone blocks.

  Lee watched as Hagar washed her hands and feet at the massive copper laver and then strode off toward the majestic, inlaid double doors.

  Hagar had told her that no human, but for consecrated priests, was to enter the dwelling under pain of death. To go into the abode itself was to pass into another domain, one that had much of the divine in it. Literally.

  There were three spheres, in which the divine realm was progressively more pervasive. Lee was allowed only in the courtyard, which contained the least of the divine. She was warned severely by Hagar not to touch her or her garb after she was transformed. It was akin to someone touching a high-voltage cable; the person would perish irrespective of their faith or intentions.

  The giant doors shut behind Hagar with a boom and the aroma of burning incense greeted her. Under the light of candlesticks, she regarded the hall. From floor to ceiling, everything was inlaid with gold. Carvings of kruvs and palm trees adorned the walls.

  “Refresh yourself at my dining table and speak to me,” came the deep voice.

  Yahweh had acknowledged her as a divine being, which was factually debatable. Yet, as an obvious snub, it appeared she was not to be admitted to the innermost space, where its footstall, throne, and presence resided. The message was clear: she may be of divine blood, but she stood at the lowest rungs. An alien petitioner, at that.

  To her right was a gold table with flat cakes stacked neatly on top. Hagar fetched one. She took a moment or two to chew and compose herself. Being accepted as divine did not lessen the risk she was in. Her situation was at a razor’s edge. If Yahweh was to conclude that she posed even a slight threat to his dominion, he would assault her.

  “Mighty God of Heavenly Armies,” she opened, facing the resplendent carved doors, partially covered with embroidery of indigo, crimson, and purple yarn. “I have come to you and not to Dagon or Qos because you are el elyon.” This much was true; he was the supreme deity of this world.

  Silence. Hagar pressed on. “Beyond the heaven above, the earth below, and the water beneath the earth, there are other…realms. About thirty centuries ago, perhaps right after the conquest of Yericho, some of your people stumbled onto one such realm. I know not how.”

  She paused, hoping he would explain this mystery that had intrigued her for so long.

  “Continue with your tale,” Yahweh said. So that was that. No explanation would be offered to that ancient enigma.

  Hagar said, “Without their Rock, Bnei Yisra’el, your people, were overwhelmed by other nations and the holy books were taken from them by force and destroyed: the Book of Yashar, the Book of the Covenant, the Book of the Battles of Yahweh. Through the many generations that followed, their elders have compiled a book, which your envoy has in his possession. It is full of errors and contradictions. They are lost, O Rock; they yearn for your guiding words.

  “El, God of the Spirits of all Flesh, open for me and my slave girl a passage out of this world. Carry with me I will your three holy books and gain you glory as el elyon in lands beyond the heaven above, the earth below, and the water beneath the earth.”

  Both knew full well that
Yahweh’s essence was impregnated in and was a part of this world as utterly as its rivers and land. He and his brethren were of this world, and this world was of them. They could not manifest elsewhere. Hagar was counting on that.

  She knew that if the old boy wanted to spread his word to realms beyond this one, if he wanted to rectify the errors of the Bible, he needed her. Hagar thought she had concocted the perfect little scheme. It gave her and Lee the best chance to convince the deity to open a rift and let them get back to Earth.

  The Hebrew Bible she possessed lent credibility to the account she had fabricated of the Israelites’ misfortunes on Earth and their beliefs that had evolved independently through the centuries. Hell, it might have even been the truth; she had no way of knowing. Hagar was counting on El Shaddai’s boundless sense of self-importance and vanity; she reckoned he would find irresistible the prospect of spreading his doctrine to other realms. The long weeks of travel and their own fate—it all came down to this one audience and the decision Yahweh would summarily make.

  Within the swirling cloud of darkness and blaze, Yahweh brooded. There was no question: he would rid this realm of her. Either she was to be slain, or she was to be sent away. He reflected, then chose the latter. Who knew? She might spread His glory and teachings to this other world.

  “Your words are pleasing to me,” he finally said, and Hagar tried to hide her elation. He mused some more. “Hagar, bat elohim, reveal your Name to me.” Yes, He ought to bind her to Him.

  She’d not seen this one coming—but this changed nothing; she was not going to give him this. “I am who I am,” she threw back, fleetingly wondering if the entity could appreciate irony. As she spoke, it dawned on her that her refusal may have been a bridge too far for Yahweh, who was not accustomed to anything but absolute obedience. He would not let the matter drop, she suddenly knew.

  Hurriedly, she mustered mental forces around her. It was not a moment too soon.

  A psionic ball of energy slammed into her, and she reeled back. She strained, and the translucent energy shield she had erected around her wavered some but then steadied.

  She screamed as a second blast hit her, even stronger than the first. Blue energy sparked and flared against her domed shield.

  Her body quivering and sweating, Hagar gnashed her teeth and groaned under the effort of holding his powers at bay. In desperation, fighting panic, she lashed out. “Yahweh is but an acronym,” she yelled. “What is your Name?” And she sent a psionic blast of her own into the center of the being.

  Consternation. Anger. Alarm. And he called off his attack.

  Hagar collapsed on the floor, utterly spent.

  There was a moment of uncertainty. He was either going to relent and accept the status quo or marshal more forces and attempt anew to consume her with fire.

  If she was to die, she was not going to do so lying down. She pulled herself heavily to her feet and faced the curtain.

  She felt his wrath slowly dissipating.

  Silence.

  “Hagar no longer,” the deep voice boomed. “Henceforth, your name shall be La’havat’el.”

  Then he spoke one last time, “In the area of the breach opened three millennia ago, I will create a temporary rift among the tar pits, at the lowest point, in the Valley of Siddim, within the Plains of Yarden. A beam of light will illuminate the rift, and a kruv will be standing guard over it, waiting. Along with your slave girl, you will go into the depths of the earth and through the primeval water of the great deep. This will lead you outside my domain. You will know what to do then.”

  Hagar bowed and left the gilded sanctum.

  Reacquiring her familiar appearance, she gave a tight smile to Lee. A sense of foreboding gripped Hagar, and she said little to her companion.

  They secured two donkeys with provisions and rode without letup, eating in the saddle, and stopping only when the animals needed to rest.

  By nightfall, they’d reached the trail heading toward the plains far below. Under the night sky, they navigated the winding path that led downward.

  A strong sulfur smell greeted them as they arrived at the Valley of Siddim. The donkeys refused to go any farther. Hagar and Lee had no choice but to leave the beasts of burden behind. The two women broke into a trot, alternating with a fast march.

  About an hour later, under the moonlight, a silhouette of a man raced toward them at an incredible speed.

  “Move away,” screamed Hagar to Lee, a glittering sword appeared in her hand, and the shadowy figure was upon her. A clash of metal rung as sword met sword and sparks and flames shot out.

  Lee staggered back, staring in disbelief at the surreal scene. The two swords clashed at a speed that blurred their motions. Again and again and again, the two figures engaged each other, the blades flashing in and out, coming from all directions. It went on for a long time. And just as suddenly Hagar stood alone—bending over and gasping—her sword gone as abruptly as it had materialized. The shadowy figure was retreating at the same breakneck speed it had approached.

  “Who was it?” shouted Lee, rushing toward Hagar.

  “Who do you think?” Hagar breathed hard, momentarily holding onto Lee for support. “It was Yahweh. Let’s go. We have to make it to the rift.”

  “Why did he attack?”

  “Part of him wants me to depart this realm. Apparently, another part, feeling vengeful over our encounter in Khevron, wants to annihilate me. I suspect there’s some measure of fragmentation among his different manifestations. Evidently, the prevailing sentiments of El Shaddai of Khevron are not shared by this shadowy figure with the whirling sword.”

  The two broke into a jog.

  “I am impressed!” called out Lee, huffing. “You managed to hold Yahweh at bay.”

  “Don’t be a fool,” Hagar called back. “This is but a limited manifestation of the entity.”

  Twice more that night, the figure of shadow attacked, engaged, and eventually retreated after a prolonged stalemate. Hagar was bleeding from minor cuts in half a dozen places. Lee stared in astonishment as the wounds closed and healed up in front of her eyes.

  “I don’t think I will be able to fend him off a fourth time,” Hagar gasped, staggering for a moment and covered in sweat. It was evident that the rapid self-healing was taking its toll on her.

  “Maybe you won’t have to. Look.” Lee pointed at a beam of silvery light about a quarter mile away.

  The flat terrain was devoid of any signs of human activity. Sparse thorn bushes and tar pits dotted the plain. The wind moaned constantly.

  As they approached, running and stumbling, they spotted a winged figure standing next to the beam of light.

  “A kruv,” pronounced Hagar.

  The bull’s head swung their way as they drew near, and the massive wings stirred.

  “We are to go through the rift,” called out Hagar.

  Motionless, the kruv regarded her. But then it stepped aside, and with one wing gestured to its left.

  Hagar and Lee ran toward the abyss. It was large enough to swallow a camel. In mid-stride, Hagar swept the other woman up in her arms and kept on running.

  “How deep does it go?” yelled Lee. “I can’t make out the bottom.”

  “There is no bottom. Close your eyes,” commanded Hagar and, holding Lee in her arms, leaped into the rift.

  Scorching-hot, sulfury wind shrieked as they fell downward. “Hold your breath on my count,” hollered Hagar, her voice barely carrying over the wind. “Three, two, one. Now!”

  They plunged into water-like liquid.

  The primeval water. We will be out of it soon.

  A few seconds later, Lee felt satisfaction emanating from Hagar. I can sense it; I can start shifting through space.

  Lee couldn’t explain it, but it did feel as if the water-like substance thinned, becoming progressively more rarified.
Then they were moving through the mist and next falling through ordinary air—and into a body of water.

  It was salty beyond belief. “The Dead Sea!” cried Lee in relief when she came up and looked about. “We’re back on Earth!”

  Cheering and yelling, the two women swam ashore. They were all grins.

  The long ordeal was over.

  Chapter 16

  They collapsed on the sandy beach.

  “This feels good.” Hagar sighed with obvious relish. Resting on her back, she propped her knees up, hands behind her head. Moments earlier, they had washed themselves with freshwater from Hagar’s portable storage unit, rinsing off the salt.

  Dry now, Hagar sat up and produced a clean set of clothing. She held them out to Lee. “These are for you.”

  “Yes, La’havat’el.”

  Hagar was already sorry that she had shared that tidbit with Lee. “You call me again La’havat’el, young lady, and you will find yourself across my lap having your bottom spanked.”

  “My, aren’t we touchy.” Hagar shot her a dirty look. “All right, all right.” Lee raised her hands, grinning insolently. “What does this name mean, anyway?”

  “‘God’s flame.’ Hopefully up his royal arse.”

  “Look on the bright side,” suggested Lee as she got dressed. “Chances are, if you were a male, Yahweh would have asked you to circumcise yourself.”

  Hagar giggled for a moment then lapsed into a contented silence, clos­ing her eyes. She laid down again.

  “Come to think of it, do you still have those three smelly books you were given in Khevron?”

  “It’s ‘three holy books,’” said Hagar, keeping her eyes closed. “Do not blaspheme, daughter. And no, after he attacked me the first time, I figured I am not going to get a commission on any of the sales and chucked them.” She glanced out of the corner of her eye at the other woman. “Well, okay, I never had any intention of bringing them over. It was just a ploy to have him open a rift for us.”