by R. E. Vance
But the good thing about this place was it did obey the basic laws of physics, and since we were all pushed back by the same energy source, we were flying out of control together.
So at least we had that going for us.
Another law of physics that Hell apparently adhered to was—and I quote: “flailing, out-of-control bodies in an empty void will continue to flail until something gets in the way.”
I’m pretty sure that was exactly how Isaac Newton put it. Then again …
“Hey, big guy,” I said. “What about some help here? After all, you’re the one with wings.”
But Penemue didn’t move.
“Penemue,” I said, louder this time.
Still nothing.
“I don’t think he’s conscious,” Bella said. “Whatever that invisible force was, it was centered on Penemue. He’s out cold.”
I twisted my head to catch a glimpse of him and saw that his eyes were closed. Hell of a time for a nap. “Fine,” I said. “I think our best bet is to latch onto him.”
“Cirque du Soleil, the inferno version. I like it.” Bella reached out her hand for Penemue.
So did I, but from the way I was twisting and turning, I wasn’t quite close enough to catch him. So employing the breast stroke, I attempted to swim closer to the angel. Funny thing about voids: they don’t really work like water. As hard as I swam, all I really managed to do was look like a tumbling frog.
Bella, on the other hand, did manage to latch onto him. Crawling over his muscular frame, she made her way to me and reached out a hand. She caught and pulled me in, just like she’d done a thousand times before … metaphorically speaking, that is.
We were both on Penemue now, and for the first time since meeting him, I was thankful for his hugeness. Unlike Rose and Jack, this floating board had plenty of room for both us.
“Now what?” Bella asked.
“Simple.” I reached my hand under his wing. “Here’s an old trick I learned in the Army. There’s a spot that angels have, a nerve that if you hit it … just … right.” I found the spot and Penemue’s left wing unfurled. The release was enough to stop our tumbling and instead of somersaulting across the void, we were now coasting.
Yay, physics.
“OK, that’s marginally better,” Bella said.
“Ouch …” I said, my ego bruised that she wasn’t more impressed.
She giggled. “We’re still floating uncontrollably and, last I checked, Hell was still breaking apart.” She pointed at the island that was EightBall’s apartment. It had broken apart into a thousand fractals now floating aimlessly in the void.
“Damn.”
“Yeah, exactly.”
I manipulated my body so that I was holding onto the angel’s lapels, facing him. Then I slapped him. Hard. Probably harder than I needed to, but the guy was putting me through hell (sorry, I had to).
He didn’t flinch. So I hit him again.
Still nothing.
“Third time’s the charm.” I balled my hand into a fist and popped him across the cheek.
Nothing.
Well, not nothing exactly. My fist hurt.
“OK, he’s out,” I said as we tumbled aimlessly. “So, this place is breaking apart, but as soon as he wakes up, he can snap his fingers and put it back together again.”
“Like Humpty Dumpty,” Bella said.
“You mock, but that story took place not too far from here.”
“I’m sure.” She shuffled over to me. “I’m sure it did.”
“True story,” I said. “So that means we have to ride this out. And since he’s out, out, it might take some time. Let’s make the most of it.”
“On him? Kinky.”
Now it was my turn to laugh. “As much as that would put me over the top on the ‘Never have I ever’ drinking game circuit, I think that would be weird. Even for me. But that said, we can at least guide him somewhere useful.”
“Like the library.”
“Yeah, like the library.”
“Great. But it’s all the way over there.” She pointed to the island that was the library.
It was tough to judge exactly how far it was from where we currently were, but if we were walking (and assuming it was the same size as the Library of Congress), then it would take us about half a day to get to it.
But we weren’t walking. We were flying. On an angel with wings.
“Remind me,” I said with a grin, “have you ever windsurfed?”
↔
I taught Bella how to pop out Penemue’s other wing, and using them as sails, we managed to change our trajectory and head toward the library. I figured that since it was our first point of entry into the inferno, it also provided our best chance of finding an exit.
Bella was keen to go back to the library, too, and I assumed it was because she agreed with my logic.
We had just sailed to the library when I heard a groan. Penemue was waking up. “Hey there, big guy,” I said.
“What … what is happening?”
“We’re flying. Well, technically you’re flying and we’re riding you like a surfboard.”
“Flying where—” Penemue started. When he realized that we were about to crash into the library’s wall, he twisted his body, extending his wings out even farther than we’d managed and stopping our momentum dead.
He also hugged both of us so we didn’t fly off him. How thoughtful.
Then, flapping his wings, he took us through one of the open windows, gently placing us down on the library’s floor.
↔
“We must hurry,” he said as Hell shook. “Master Newton is in trouble. The witch who attacked us is of great power and—”
“You mean the elven woman who lifted her hand at us and sent us flying through EightBall’s childhood living room?” I said.
Penemue nodded. “The very same.”
“And you want to get back as soon as possible to save him?” I completely failed to hide my skepticism.
“Indeed.” Penemue guided us to the center of the library.
“So that after you save him, he can bludgeon you to death?”
“Again, indeed.”
“Makes sense.” I slowed down. I knew we needed to get out as quickly as possible, but I wasn’t going to rush out of Hell so I could watch my friend die.
“Hurry, please.”
“Pish posh,” I said.
“Pish posh?” Bella giggled. “Where did that come from?”
“I can be classy.”
Penemue clearly wasn’t enjoying our banter, because he grabbed both of our hands and pulled us along like a mother would her crying children. “It is not just that I wish to save Master Newton. I also wish to save the two of you. In case neither of you have noticed, Hell is coming apart at the seams—”
“See the previous pish posh and add a bah humbug.” And before Bella could say anything, I cocked her a smile and added, “Dickens. I read now.”
“Apparently,” she said with a chuckle.
“And as for you, young man—or rather, ancient angel: don’t worry about EightBall. Marc is there, and he’s pretty badass. The kid will be fine. So, given we’re not actually in a rush, could you please stop Hell from breaking apart? You know, will it or wave a magic wand or just do whatever you angels do when playing with ultimate cosmic powers and stop it.” As if to accentuate my words, Hell shook and a piece of the friggin’ floor cracked open and disappeared. Not in the crumbled-away-to-dust way, either. I’m talking about the got-sucked-into-the-void-and-ceased-to-exist kind of disappearing.
My favorite kind.
Penemue shook his head in that way he did whenever he was about to explain something to me he knew I wouldn’t understand. “The witch who expelled us has great power and as efficient as Marc may be, I doubt even he is capable of besting one such as her. And as for stopping the erosion of this place, I’m afraid I can’t.” Penemue sighed.
“What?” I said, half expecting Bella to harmoni
ze my surprise. But instead, my wife just stood there nodding in comprehension.
Comprehension I sorely lacked.
“When EightBall summoned me,” Penemue said, “I shut down my link here, lest a more nefarious beast use this domain for their own ill gains.”
“English,” I said in anger.
“To paraphrase a common trope found in many science fiction movies, I initiated the self-destruct sequence and am powerless to stop it.”
Exploding Libraries and Runaway Wives
“Oh joy,” I said. “So your first thought is, ‘Hey, I gotta leave this place and I’m probably never going to come back, so … poof.’ ” I imitated an explosion. “And that irreversible self-destruct sequence—it couldn’t have waited until we got out of here?”
“And risk someone truly evil getting hold of this place?” Penemue shook his head. “As for reversing what I did, I’m afraid destroying a domain such as this one requires a lot of energy and, for lack of a better word, faith. Setting this place to destroy itself has just about drained my magical abilities. That is why I suspect the gods did not destroy their heavens and hells when leaving, choosing instead to shut them down. They were conserving their powers for whatever came next.”
“OK, fine. But there is a way out, right?”
“Yes,” Penemue said.
“And?” I looked around frantically.
“It is the way that you entered by,” Penemue said.
“Then let’s go!” I grabbed Bella’s hand and pulled her in the direction of the entrance.
But Bella resisted, biting her lower lip in that way she did when mulling something over. It was a look I knew well … she was debating with herself.
And that kind of debate usually ended in her doing something I wasn’t going to like.
↔
Bella walked over to Penemue as Hell shook. “Twice-fallen. The Angel Penemue. Architect of the Grand Library and the one who knows all that is written. Answer me this one question in a manner that my limited, mortal mind may know.” She paused. “Are human souls necessary for any of this to exist?”
Bella’s tone was far too formal, given where we were and how well those two knew each other. As she spoke, she drew something in the air with precise hand gestures, outlining an invisible image.
Despite their friendship and familiarity with one another, Penemue’s posture changed. He responded in an equally formal and reverent tone. “Human souls power the celestial domains. Without them, nothing could exist.”
Bella nodded in comprehension. As she did, both of them returned to normal, dropping their formal facades.
“That was weird,” I said.
“Not really.” Penemue eyed Bella with a look that was one part admiration, one part love and two parts fear. “You have mastered ‘the Request.’ ”
“I learned about it, you know, up there.” She pointed skyward.
“The Request?”
“It is a”—Penemue searched for the word—“style of speech that we angels are compelled to answer in a direct and honest manner.”
“And all that hand-waving?”
“She was tracing my name in the air between us,” Penemue said. “Once my name is invoked I am compelled to answer, even if the knowledge requested is forbidden. Where did you learn my name?”
“At the Columns of Creation,” she said.
“Ahhh, of course. With the gods gone, no place is forbidden to mortals.”
“OK, can someone please spell it out for me?” I said.
“Simply put, Bella here knew that I could not answer such a direct question about the inner workings of Heaven unless compelled.”
“What? There’s a way to get you to talk straight?” I slapped my forehead. “And I’m only just learning about this now.”
Bella chuckled before turning to Penemue. “I’ve noticed that Heaven has sections that are falling apart, but seem to repair themselves as soon as I enter. Now I see why.”
Penemue sighed as he searched for the words. “With only one soul inside, Heaven is severely under-staffed.” The twice-fallen chuckled at his own joke. Much to my surprise, given we were in a domain that was literally falling apart, so did Bella.
Talk about inside jokes at a cosmic level.
“I figured,” she said, “because as soon as I’d enter those places, they would start to repair themselves without me doing anything.”
“Ahhh, that is where you are wrong,” Penemue said. “You are doing everything. Your presence—your soul—is what powers that domain. You see, the greatest trick the gods ever performed was offering you an eternal afterlife in exchange for your powers. That was the pact they demanded of each and every soul before granting entry.”
“From what I’ve learned, that makes sense.”
“What makes sense?” I yelled as Hell continued to shake.
“Human souls power the heavens and hells,” Bella explained. “And when we enter one, the gods make us sign a contract of sorts. In exchange for living forever, we help keep the lights on.”
“So?”
“Not ‘so.’ What you mean to ask is ‘and?’ ” Bella said.
“OK, ‘and?’ ” I gestured for them to hurry this little conversation along.
“And what the gods never explained is that they need our souls’ energy to even exist. That is why Heaven is empty—they took all the souls with them. And from what I’ve seen, against their will, too.”
This time the ground shook so hard that I nearly lost my footing. “Fine, the gods didn’t let us read the fine print of their terms and conditions. I get it—bad them. No worse than Apple’s terms and conditions. But still, you’d think the gods would have had higher standards.” I took a breath. “Now that we’ve had our little pow-wow, can we please go?”
Bella ignored me. “I suppose that’s what Hell is … a place for the souls who refused to grant the gods their powers.”
“Very good, Human Bella. That is exactly right. That is also why Hell is now, for if time cannot progress, then one cannot learn.”
“And over the last few centuries, more and more souls were opting for Hell, weren’t they?”
Penemue nodded. “It was a dilemma that truly baffled the gods. Why condemn themselves? Why? They did not understand what was at play and yet somehow, they did. As more and more souls refused to power the heavens above, the gods grew dissatisfied and confused. Then they did something I could not have predicted in a thousand millennia.”
“They left,” Bella whispered.
“Indeed.”
“Yes, indeedie, indeedie,” I said. “Now that that’s done …” I started for the back door, but neither Bella nor Penemue moved.
“What?” I said.
Bella had that look she always gave me whenever she was about to do something that would hurt me.
“What?” I repeated, my voice softer.
But Bella didn’t say anything. She just stared at me as a single tear rolled down her cheek.
“I fear that the human Bella has opted not to return to Earth,” Penemue whispered.
↔
“What the holy fuck does that mean?” I said.
“I need to go back to Heaven. I need to learn more,” she said. A piece of Hell ripped itself away behind her.
“No you don’t,” I said. “You need to come home. With me.” I reached out a hand as my heart beat furiously with fear and anger. Bella was back. She could return to Earth. We could be together. We could be happy.
“Jean,” she said, her hands pushing against the side of her dress as she tried to flatten some wrinkle that wasn’t there, “there is more going on here than we know. The gods … I think they’re planning something that will mean the end to everything. Their departure, it was only part of the crap they had in store for us. They’re coming back—at least, some of them are. And when they do, they’re going to take over this domain and wipe us out. Replace us with other kinds of souls who will be more obedient.”
“And
you know this, how?”
“The pillars, the souls sent out to explore other domains. Their limitations and the growing number of souls choosing to be damned. It’s all starting to make sense. They didn’t abandon us—they left to find others to replace us.”
Hell shook again, its fabric of reality nearing the end. “OK, OK, they’re coming back. But that might not be for centuries. Come home. Let’s live out our lives together and—”
“Jean.” She said my name in that way that always managed to make the world stop. She used it whenever I was spiraling, whenever she needed to break through whatever shield I had up. The way she said my name always disarmed me. Just because I was standing in Hell didn’t change that at all. “I have to go back. I have to study. Prepare.”
“Then I’ll go with you,” I said.
“You can’t.”
“Why?”
“You know why.”
“No, I don’t.”
“Because someone has to take care of them.”
Penemue had been listening despite all that was going on. “You can’t. You are not a soul yet. You do not have the power to traverse these domains.”
“And she does!” I screamed.
Penemue nodded, tears of light streaming down his cheeks. “I fear I have done you yet another disservice. Hell is now, which limits one’s ability to learn. Bella was losing herself here because she could not progress—grow—evolve. But I broke the cycle of now, and her powers have returned. She can return to Heaven as herself—as the wonderful soul who earned entrance the first time.”
“No, no,” I said, wondering if I could die of a broken heart. “But you’ve done so much already.”
“Not enough. Never enough.”
“And me? What about me?” I said through blinding tears.
“You will go home, take care of the Others and find a way back to me. You have to. We have to find a way back to each other so that, together, we can save the world.”