by Brian Corley
“We had a deal Masephson!” I exclaimed.
“We had a deal that I would let them go and would not harm your friends. As you will recall, I let them go, and as you can see, they are no worse for wear. Besides, we simply cannot allow you or them to continue to deplete our resources by moving them on to the next plane. We were concerned that this trend may continue, and it would just not do to have the practice expand. Thus, you see the decision before me, and here we are.”
“That wasn’t the deal, Masephson,” I proclaimed.
“It was the deal. It was!” He smiled his vulpine smile. “You were not specific enough. You should always know what you’re getting into when dealing with the Devil.”
I rolled my eyes. “You’re not the Devil.”
“Indeed, I am not, Mr. Preston. Indeed I am not. Merely a devil, I’m afraid. Now I’ll leave you three to talk amongst yourselves. Consider my offer, Mr. Preston. Ta-ra!” Masephson waved as he disappeared behind a stalagmite.
“I wondered if that would happen,” George mused.
“Those bastards,” Ramona said.
“Are you two OK?” I asked.
They looked at each other and back to me, nodding.
“Not that I blame you, Ramona,” George started, “but it probably didn’t help that you walked up and smacked that guy as soon as they took off with Jonah.”
Ramona covered her mouth as she laughed. “It felt good though. At least I got a shot in before they locked us back up.”
George laughed, looked at me, and shrugged. “Well, now what?” he asked.
“I don’t know,” I replied. “Want to play cards?”
“Sure,” George and Ramona said almost at once.
We went to work setting up an extravagant green-felted, dark-stained oaken table. I opted to create a chrome-legged stool to sit on, while George and Ramona went with taller wooden chairs stained the same color as the table.
I created a deck of cards and asked, “What should we play?”
“How about poker?” George offered, and Ramona shrugged in the affirmative.
“Works for me,” I replied.
I dealt the cards out one per player in a clockwise distribution, marveling at how they slid perfectly across the felt to George and then Ramona. I was never able to deal like this in life. We each created twenty-five chips of the same value and began to bet.
I drew an incredible hand—a royal flush, ten of spades through the ace. Ramona started us off with two chips in the middle of the table, followed by a call and a raise by George. I didn’t want to tip my hand early, so I just called. Ramona put in four chips this time, and George raised again. I couldn’t have a better hand and pushed in all my chips.
“All in,” I declared with a smirk.
Without hesitation, Ramona pushed in all her chips and looked to George. He raised an eyebrow and breathed out a sigh.
“Wow,” he said, “this game got brutal early.”
“Alright,” I said, “let’s see what you have.”
“Sorry, boys, better luck next time,” Ramona said as she fanned out her cards—a royal flush, ten through ace of hearts.
“Not so fast, honey, full house!” George said, slamming down his cards.
“George, for the last time, a full house doesn’t beat a royal flush,” Ramona chastised him.
“Royal flush,” I said, sheepishly laying down my cards. “George, you thought a full house beat a royal flush?”
“He always thought it was the best hand,” Ramona interjected.
“Ugh,” I said. “These cards are just going to be whatever we want them to be. We need to figure out another game.”
George cracked up, and Ramona scrunched her face. We went on to try Battleship and found our hit screens full without actually ever hitting one another’s ships. We tried Monopoly but were able to roll whatever number we needed.
We finally settled on a paper-scissors-rock tournament. Ramona annihilated us during the first hour, and neither George nor I were able to recover. We got bored after a while and figured out we could set up a checkers or chess board and play that as long as we had a third party looking on, although it was hard for me to keep up with what pieces went where during George and Ramona’s game.
“Hey you,” chimed a familiar accented voice as the Cheshire Cat girl in the motorcycle jacket appeared from behind Ramona, circling the distance between us and putting a hand on my shoulder. She cocked her head and gave me a small half-smile. “Want to take a walk?”
“Will they be OK if I leave?” I asked.
“Yes,” she said, “of course.”
“Are you OK for me to go?” I asked Ramona and George.
“Oh, I’m sure we’ll find a way to manage, Jonah,” Ramona said, “somehow.”
“Alright, let’s go for a walk,” I said as I rose from my chair.
Chapter 33
I heard a gust of wind and a voice that said, “I can’t let you do that.” One of my reptilian guards swooped down from the ceiling to land between us.
“Says who?” replied Cheshire Cat girl.
“You know,” he replied.
She blew hair out of her face as she rolled her eyes. “Fine. You can follow behind us. Will that work for you?”
“Yeah, that works,” he replied, then turned to me with an outstretched hand. “Name’s Busquamet. Sorry we didn’t get a chance to exchange pleasantries earlier.”
“Jonah,” I said and shook his hand. “Now, the million-dollar question, who are you?” I asked, turning to Cheshire Cat girl.
“Did you know Kurt Russell’s first role in a movie had him kicking Elvis in the shin?” she replied.
“What?”
“What did you hear me say?”
“Something about Kurt Russell and Elvis.”
“That’s what I thought—well, not exactly. Apparently, you cannot know my name, Jonah,” she said.
“Fine,” I said, recalling my earlier conversation with Seph. “I’ll just call you Cat.”
She smiled as she touched my shoulder, gently nudging me forward for a walk through the halls.
“I’ve been briefed on Masephson’s actions tonight. He is—theatrical. Look, this isn’t how I wanted this to happen, but he had leverage with Hensch and thought he could recruit you both this way. I find his methods to be—a little overindulgent for my taste.”
“Yeah, he should’ve tried the ol’ show-up-at-random-places-and-befriend-Jonah trick. I never see those coming.”
She gave me a playful punch in the arm that lightly shoved me away as she looked off to her right. We exited the room and were now walking down a tunnel lit by openings every fifteen feet or so that looked out to a much larger chamber from what I could tell.
“So, you know what I am,” she said softly while fidgeting with her hands.
“Yes.”
“How does that make you feel about me?”
“That it makes sense a demon would try to hide what they were, get me to like them, and mislead me over the course of a summer.” I smiled, looking off at nothing.
“It’s not like that. I couldn’t just say, ‘Hello, Jonah. I literally cannot tell you my name. I am a demon. Want to go out some time?’”
“It’s certainly not as good as my fineapple line,” I mumbled.
She laughed, then stopped to face me.
“I want to tell you my version of the history you know. It may give you a different perspective.”
“Sure,” I said. “Why not?”
She nodded, ignoring the bite to my comment, and started with her story.
“You’re familiar with the tradition that Lucifer was arrogant enough to think he could overthrow God, that he split Heaven in half and started a civil war?” she asked.
I nodded.
“Ther
e was no war, Jonah. It wasn’t even an attempt at a coup,” she said.
“What?” I asked.
“I know,” she said.
“What do you mean there wasn’t a war?” I asked.
“It’s not as though there were always two sides, angels and demons. We spent billions of years together as one cohesive unit. We traveled between worlds, reported back, ate together, sang together, trained together. To be quite honest, I’m not sure why we had so much combat training, but the military structure in place worked quite well. Heaven is a … um … tricky concept.”
She paused, looking up to gather her thoughts. “In some people’s minds, a version of it exists today. In others’, it does not. Meaning, some see Heaven as the home in which God dwells today, and that place truly exists. Sometimes it’s referred to as Paradise. Heaven, the new Heaven, will exist in the future—here—on Earth. So, in short, Heaven is wherever God is really—Paradise today, Earth in the future. Follow me so far?”
“Kind of,” I replied, “go on.”
“OK, good,” she said, looking down at her shoes as we walked farther down the tunnel. “After eons of living harmoniously together in Paradise, flitting back and forth between His creation—or what you would think of as different worlds or planets—word began to spread about a new project. He decided to build a world for a class of creature that would bear His likeness.”
Busquamet cleared his throat behind us. “Species.”
“What?” Cat stopped and turned on her heel, cocking her head sideways toward our guard.
“You said ‘class of creature’ when referring to humans. They’re a species,” the frog-eyed reptilian demon continued.
“Oh. Oh, yes, I suppose you’re right—good catch,” she said.
“Thanks, it’s kind of my thing,” the demon responded.
“It’s definitely his thing,” I agreed. “That guy knows his stuff.”
The demon shot me his own set of finger guns as Cat turned back around to continue our conversation.
“Where was I?” she wondered aloud. “Oh yes … news spread that God decided to create a species—” she turned to acknowledge Busquamet, then continued her focus down the hallway, “in His own image. Now, that means more than just the two-armed, two-legged, eyes, ears symmetrically proportional bit of anatomy.
“Word began to spread that the creatures would be able to function in such a way that they could create using the resources around them, communicate using original ideas—have original thoughts on their own—outside the evolutionary survival process. Of all the worlds circling all the suns or stars in the infinite universe, there had never been such a concept.
“I’ve heard humans talk about the concept of free will as though it is unique to them, which is obviously a flawed hypothesis disproven in the opening chapters of the Bible. Everyone focuses on Eve choosing to eat from the Tree of Knowledge, but there was someone tempting her to do so, having already fallen based on their previous choice. I’m sorry. I’m getting ahead of myself. Creativity combined with free will is what sets you and your species apart. Do you understand?”
“So far,” I replied.
“My kind—angels, although my faction are now referred to as demons in order to distinguish sides—were comprised of many different forms and functions, all for different purposes—a traditional humanoid shape with wings as we’re depicted in modern society, but so many other variations. There are those comprised mainly of eyes or ears so they can see or hear everything that happens in a particular place. Some of us are multi-winged, some of us are mighty, some of us less so—we all have our place. The one thing in which we are not adept—the one thing we lack—is the ability to create.
“Oh, we’re spectacular when it comes to the refinement of an idea. There are those of us who are quite eloquent and clever. However, the concept of creation remains foreign to us to this day.”
“How is that possible?” I asked. “It seems to me that you’re creating something just by having a conversation. You’re choosing words to make a point. I mean, you have to be creative to even refine an idea.”
“I see your point,” she said. “Maybe it’s in our core structure like a governor on a car engine or something. Did you ever read I, Robot?”
“Yeah, of course,” I replied. “Are you saying your version of following the three laws is that you just can’t create?”
“Yes, basically, with a few other caveats.” She seemed to think out loud. “He made us the way we are. Maybe we would be too powerful if we could create things—even small things, like the table you and your friends came up with back there.”
We walked in silence for a while before she continued.
“Lucifer saw this project as a threat to everything we held dear—our ecosystem, our relationship with God. What if He could not control this creation? What if they were able to rise up? What if they were able to influence and hold dominion over His other creations? What would happen to us then?”
“Do you mean what would happen if we were able to travel to other planets?” I asked.
“Yes. Why put everything we’ve ever known at risk for this one little world—an atom within a cell, within a molecule of water, within a vast ocean? It wasn’t just Lucifer’s concern; it was a growing concern among us all. As God’s favorite and grandest creation, we called on him to speak to our Lord—beseech Him to abandon this perilous endeavor. So, he did.”
“You think we’re going to be able to travel to different planets?”
“Jonah, please.”
“What? I’m curious.”
“Yes, I think someday, humans could travel to other planets.”
“Huh. Cool.”
“May I continue?”
“Sorry.”
“For days, Lucifer implored Him to put an end to the project until it was time. God set a new universe in motion with an explosion that sent stars flying. Planets coagulated from chunks of debris, orbits were set, and life was seeded by the passing of comets whose dust trails combined with the existing elements of the new planet set just the right distance from what you know as the sun.
“We began to meet in secret. Hordes of angels, thousands upon thousands gathered to listen to news from Lucifer in his conversation with our Lord. He remained unmoved by Lucifer’s pleas. On Earth, the ocean began to teem with life as single-celled organisms became creatures who swam the depth and breadth of the newly created world. Lucifer implored God to leave it as such and rethink His plan, but He would not hear him.
“Land emerged, more and more of it as the ocean receded, and new formations occurred as magma spewed forth through volcanoes. Life began on the newly formed shores, and Lucifer beseeched Him again to be satisfied with this new world and go no further. Again, He would not be swayed.
“Enormous creatures came forth to roam about the Earth and swim through its oceans. Surely, he said, this is sufficient, my Lord. He begged Him to stop there, but it was too much—he pushed too hard. Our Lord turned His attention upon all of us.
“He would not abide insubordination. He would not allow us to question His authority. He confronted Lucifer as we met in what we thought a secret meeting. The great battle that is described in earthly literature was an argument, an epic debate that thundered on for ages, until finally, He cast us all out.
“Expelled from our home, Lucifer rallied us to inhabit the very catalyst of our ouster. He was certain he could prove to God what a mistake He had made. We all came, but for different reasons. Some believed, along with Lucifer, that they could show God He was wrong—that the humans He created were dangerous abominations. Some of the strongest came to Earth to protect the creations they had overseen for billions of years. They could not bear the idea of their cultures and ecosystems thrown into chaos by the unholy creatures of Earth should they decide to one day leave their planet and explore other worlds. Som
e came purely out of spite. Having been cast out, they saw no hope and relished the idea of tormenting a species so dear to our Lord.
“We found that God still allowed Lucifer to return to His halls from time to time to discuss His creation and continue their disagreement. We formed new ranks in our new home. As new leaders emerged, all reported up to Lucifer.
“Before humans finally came to be on this world, Lucifer either convinced God of the potential danger or God indulged His favorite creation with a bargain—He would set His experiment in motion with a caveat. Should the humans become unsatisfied with their environment, they would be castigated—much as we were out of Paradise—to endure a harsh existence without His light upon us.”
“Well, we all know how that turned out,” I said.
“Jonah.”
“Sorry.”
“So, human life began in a trouble-free environment—a lush, soft land populated with beautiful, delicious flora and docile beasts. They knew no danger, wanted for nothing, and from time to time dwelled in the presence of God Himself. Adam and Eve were a construct to a story, a family among thousands that existed in an area not much larger than the city you live in. Tasting the fruit of the Tree of Knowledge existed as the one boundary that could not be crossed.
“Lucifer was satisfied with the arrangement. The danger was contained in an environment that seemingly left all parties satisfied. There were others, however, who were not comforted by this détente, who still longed for retribution.
“The majority of our kind were forbidden inside the boundaries of the garden, but there were those that were powerful enough to breach its borders and find ways to interact with the humans. It is believed by most of us that it was one of those, not Lucifer, that finally convinced Eve to seek the fruit of the Tree of Knowledge.”
“So you’re saying Lucifer isn’t the monster we’ve been led to believe he is?”
“Not with that hair,” she mused.
“Really? The hair? That’s twice I’ve heard about it. Must look fantastic.”
“Mm-hmm. Anyway, we all have our suspicions as to who actually tricked Eve into eating the fruit, but it wasn’t him.”