“Well, in any case,” Malkah said, “Gideon seems to think so. He believes that a cabal of men—one man in particular—has stumbled upon the notion of the Lamed-Vavniks, and is determined to eliminate them. According to Gideon, these men have tried just about everything to secure their ambition of world domination, but that success has eluded them. He says that they have concluded that their failure is due to the righteous of the world; that the good and virtuous—these Lamed-Vavnik types—are a kind of adhesive holding the world together, and so preventing the cabal’s plans from being realized. Gideon doesn’t believe the cabal is composed of religious mystics or anything. He says that they are mostly self-styled intellectuals who are obsessed with power and transforming the world into their idea of what it should be.”
“He told you this?”
“Crazy, right?”
“No, but it does mean he truly trusts you.”
“So you believe this stuff too?”
“I’m aware of it, but where I’m from I dealt solely with making matches. For me, shalom bayit—peace in the home—was what I aimed for. If more homes were filled with chesed—loving kindness—the world would be strengthened considerably. Other angels dealt with the war between good and evil. The evil I battled as an angel was humankind’s personal demons. My goal was to bring couples together, so that united as one loving spirit they could do the most good for their families and friends, thereby promoting the well being of society as a whole. However, as I already recounted to you, we failed miserably.”
“But Gideon takes this business about the Lamed-Vavniks personally. I’m afraid he might do something…rash.”
“What kind of thing?”
“There is a man, one of the richest in the world, that Gideon has been tracking for over a decade. He believes this man is behind his grandfather’s death, and Saul’s, and possibly hundreds of others. I had never even heard of him before, but Gideon seems certain that this guy is the most dangerous person on earth.”
“Alexander Rosso.”
“So you know of him too!”
Cyrus nodded.
“Is Gideon right?” Malkah asked, fearful of the answer.
Because Alexander Rosso had met Chauncey Matterson, he was easily within the six degrees of separation, and so Cyrus had access to Rosso’s records in his mind. All the knowledge that Cyrus had downloaded in the Midrashic Cave before his banishment was in Cyrus’s head like data on a computer’s hard drive. But because it was there didn’t mean he knew it was there. Just like so much data on a person’s computer, the files go unnoticed until they are deliberately sought or accidentally discovered.
Before Cyrus met Gideon he never heard of Alexander Rosso. Rosso’s record was not relevant to what he was involved in at the time. A person came across so many thousands of people in the course of a lifetime that it was impossible to examine the history of every encounter the subject had had. When a cupid angel, Cyrus learned to pick and choose what was essential. Typically, the examination of family and close friends provided all the background he or Volk needed to carry out their missions.
It was only after meeting Gideon and understanding the importance his grandfather played in his life—and by extension, his grandfather’s murder—that Cyrus decided to investigate the matter.
When he returned home from his initial meeting with Gideon at the Mexican restaurant, Cyrus closed his eyes and accessed the disturbing record of Alexander Rosso. It sent chills down his back. Cyrus had come across thousands of wicked humans in the course of his long life, but few were as diabolical and shameless as Alexander Rosso.
“He’s a very bad man,” Cyrus said.
“But is he who Gideon says he is?”
“Yes.”
“Oh my God,” Malkah said, her hand flying to her mouth. “And Gideon, is he serious? I mean, would he do anything…stupid?”
“I’m not a mind reader, Malkah. I know the past. I know history. I don’t know the future.”
“What you know of him, then? Is Gideon capable or likely to…I don’t know, try and stop him?”
Cyrus was hesitant to answer her question. Malkah and Gideon were engaged. One of them was the Swerver, of that he was almost certain. He didn’t want to chance them breaking up over this. Alexander Rosso was not Cyrus’s business. Cyrus was a matchmaker, not an angel of judgment and righteous retribution. There were other, far more powerful angels for that.
Then, on second thought, he wondered. He may have still thought of himself in those terms, but in every other way, he was now just a man, a human being. He didn’t work for the Academy. He took no orders. Cyrus, like all humans, now had free will. The thought stunned him. He was free to choose. Certainly, his choices would have consequences, but he was able to act in whatever way his conscience guided him.
“I can’t answer that, Malkah. However, Gideon is a warrior and a hunter. I can’t tell you if he’s planning anything, but as long as Alexander Rosso is alive, Gideon will believe that he shouldn’t be.” Cyrus stood and brushed off the seat of his pants. “I’m sorry, I really should get back to work. People are depending on me.” He took a step to leave.
Malkah pleaded, “Cyrus, what should I do? Rosso is going to be in the area next week. Gideon showed me where he lives. It’s like a fortress. Rosso is hosting a major conference of some sort. I’m worried Gideon will try to go there and…do something.”
Cyrus stopped and turned. “Next week a conference? A fortress?”
“Yes!”
“Anteros,” Cyrus mumbled. “Solow. As above so below…”
“What?” Malkah said. “What did you say?”
“I’ll have a talk with him.”
“You will? Thank you, Cyrus. Yes, talk to him!”
41
Double Duty
It was the first time that Commander Sett had ever been invited into Judge Minos’s court chamber. Minos sat at a large mahogany desk. Behind him matching bookcases held more mementos than books. But the most conspicuous item in the chamber stood in the corner: a life-size, golden statue of the god, Eros. The god had long hair and plumed wings and was balancing on one foot, leaning forward, as if just alighting. In its outstretch left hand was a bow, and he looked like he had just fired an arrow.
Sett inclined slightly in obeisance as the judge looked up from some papers he was examining. Minos said nothing. Instead, he tossed an annoyed glance towards the Eros idol, intimating with a disapproving look that the commander was forgetting something.
Sett swallowed his revulsion, walked over to the idol, knelt before the golden object, and kissed its foot. He stood back up, and filled with shame, thought: That’s the last time I ever do that, dammit. Then, rolling his eyes heavenwards, he added: Forgive me, Big Guy.
“Have a seat, Commander,” Minos said. “We have a lot to discuss.”
Sett slid over a chair and sat down.
Minos said, “Where’s Captain Abishai? I thought I told you I wanted you both here.”
“Captain Abishai sends his apologies. His preparations for your ensured safety and success have prevented him from attending. I told him to carry on as I’m fully informed and didn’t think his presence would be required. I hope you understand.”
Minos did not like his request being ignored, but he decided not to press the issue. He had more important things on his mind.
He grunted and said, “A truly historic day will soon be upon us, Commander. Solow will usher in a new era of cooperation and peace. I want everything to go smoothly. I’m well aware of your disapproval, but the court has made up its mind, and so I will appreciate it if you do not waste my time with your objections.”
“I’m at your service, Your Excellency.”
“Good. Now, this is the first time that we will be sending such an entourage to Earth. Are all the disgronifiers ready?”
“Nearly, Sir. The engineering crew is installing twenty more as we speak, and all of them will soon undergo final inspection. The disgronifiers will
unfold us at the exact coordinates that you provided. We will be able to deliver or retrieve fifty men at a time. May I ask why so many are required?”
“Because it is stated in the accords that upon signing, Mr. Hamanaeus and three-hundred Anteros exiles will be allowed to immediately begin to set up their new operations here.”
“What’s the hurry?”
“I said no objections, Commander,” Minos growled.
“Yes, Sir. May I see a copy of the accords?”
“After we sign the treaty you can find out what is in it. Your job is to follow orders. Do not make me remind you of this again. I can put someone else in charge of this mission, do you understand?”
“Understood, Sir.”
“Now, Hamanaeus and I have agreed that we will come with no more than our sidearms, which will be confiscated upon arrival. The Anteros attendees will also be unarmed.”
“How can we be sure of that?”
“I have his word.”
Sett nearly bust out laughing. “The word of a traitor, of a terrorist?”
“The word of a partner in peace, Commander. And do recall that the last time the three of us were together, the man did come alone and unarmed.”
Unimpressed by the judge’s reasoning, Sett said, “What about his trained fear demons? Will they be attending the signing too?”
“Are you mocking me, Commander?”
“No, I’m quite serious. An unarmed cupid to a fear demon is called lunch. I have my men to look out for. Surely you can appreciate that.”
“Fear demons were not discussed. I assume they will be locked up somewhere.”
“My squad will not be satisfied by an assumption, Judge.”
“Fine, fine, I’ll get back to you on that. Assume for now that I have Hamanaeus’s word on this too.”
“Since when has the word of an Anteros apostle become so valuable?”
“Since when has the mouth of a commander of the Cupid Corps become so insolent?” Minos retorted.
“I mean no disrespect, Your Honor. These are questions every self-respecting commander would raise. Every expedition to Earth is considered dangerous. That is always my standard operating assumption.”
“Well, not for long, Commander. Once this treaty is signed and put into effect, our job on Earth should prove both safer and more fruitful. Our cupids won’t have to look over their shoulder for Anteros militants, and with the fear demons being contented with their given share, we can busy ourselves with the work of Eros.”
Sett stared at Judge Minos in disbelief. Good God, the old geezer really believes this crap.
“Just one question before we get into the details of the operation, Your Honor. Say Hamanaeus keeps his word. Say he really has the control over the yetz—the fear demons—that he says he does. What about all those humans who are left behind? What of that half of the world? What will it be like for them?”
“Rather disagreeable,” Minos admitted. “Hellish even, I suppose. We have to look at them as victims of peace. That’s the price that must be paid. It’s that or lose everyone, including ourselves. The fear demons have grown too powerful. This war is lost. We must be content with our sliver.”
“What about him?” Sett said, hiking his thumb over his shoulder to point at the idol.
“What about him?”
“Eros is our god, is he not? The god of love. All powerful, all knowing, and all that razzmatazz. How come he doesn’t help us defeat these fiends? Does he want us surrendering to Anteros and the fear demons?”
“Eros works in mysterious ways, Commander.”
“Clearly,” Sett said. “It’s just interesting that his ways always seem to resemble yours.”
“I am high priest and judge, so why should that astound you?”
“He speaks to you directly, then? I’m just asking.”
Minos narrowed his dark eyes. “His holy spirit makes itself known to me, yes.” He raised a pale, bony finger and waggled it at Sett. “Enough of your impertinence. You are dangerously close to blasphemy, Commander, and I will not stand for that.”
Minos shook his head and thought how welcome it will be once he clears his ranks of all these cheeky, ungrateful bastards. He shoved a printout of the signing festivities in front of the commander.
“Now, let’s go over these items one by one. I don’t want any faux pas that will shame me or Eros.”
“Speaking of shame,” Sett said. “Did you receive my report on our missing cupids and celestials?”
“I did. Most regrettable.”
“Regrettable? We’re talking about traitors, Your Honor.”
“Rubbish. There is no evidence of that. I checked with the Bureau of Cupid and Celestial Management and they provided explanations for every name on your list. Either they were killed in the line of duty, or they are MIA.”
“With all due respect, the Bureau of Cupid and Celestial Management is infested with Anteros sympathizers. They cannot be trusted. What about the disgronifier logs I attached? They show that many had gone AWOL.”
“The bureau provided me with explanations for each and every one, Commander. They were all on State Department missions of one sort or another and just never made it back alive.”
“State,” Sett scowled. “The same department that has shoved these accords down our throats. That’s the most infiltrated and treasonous department of all!”
“Commander!” Minos shouted, slamming his open palm down on his desk. “Enough! One more outburst from you and I will not only strip this mission from your hands and appoint someone else, but I will make sure you never have any duty greater than at the wrong end of target practice. Am I understood?!”
“Yes, Sir,” Sett said. “I’m sorry, Your Honor.” Sett bowed his head in contrition. “Forgive me.”
Patience, he thought. Patience…
Shooting Eros
Emuna Chronicle 3: War-bound
“Woe unto them that call evil good, and good evil; that put darkness for light, and light for darkness; that put bitter for sweet, and sweet for bitter! Woe unto them that are wise in their own eyes, and prudent in their own sight!”
Isaiah 5:20-21
“Repent one day before you die.”
Rabbi Eliezer ben Hurcanus
1
Gathering of Angels
Captain Volk and Commander Sett ordered Virgil and I to meet with Grace and Captain Abishai. Our assignment was to find seven trustworthy cupid soldiers to recruit to our cause. The twelve of us would make up the team that would accompany the judges to the signing of the Solow Accords. Sett and Abishai, who were charged by Judge Minos with the security details of the trip, would ensure that it was our little group who handled the responsibility. The recruitment was to be carried out in the utmost secrecy. No one was to be approached without near certitude that the soldier would be enthusiastic.
At first thought, this seemed like an impossible task. Virgil and I knew well how profoundly indoctrinated our fellow cupids were, and the contempt they held for Captain Volk and me.
Virgil, however, had managed to pull off his dual allegiance without a hitch. No one suspected him of any funny ideas, and he was both liked and admired by most all those who knew him. Over time, he engaged his compatriots in different discussions to learn whom, if any, might one day become candidates for recruitment. Regrettably, the pickings were slim.
Not only did the potential soldiers have to be open-minded enough to consider the things we knew, they also had to be exceptional warriors and possessing of a spirit that matched their skills. Finding seven such soldiers seemed highly unlikely.
Fortunately, thanks to Captain Abishai, the first four candidates proved easy. They were all members of his own SWAT team.
Abishai knew his soldiers inside out, and he was confident that they would follow him. The team was tight, unorthodox, and they already felt like outsiders among their peers. The members had profound respect for Captain Abishai, and like the Musketeers of old, the team’s mo
tto was all for one, and one for all. Despite always having been loyal members of the Academy, over time they had begun to wonder aloud to one another what the hell was going on.
The captain’s squad were grizzled veterans and old school. They hadn’t taken in new blood for a century, though the truth be told, it was because no young cupids wanted anything to do with them. There was little glory in being a member of SWAT, and the other cupids viewed the team as fusspots and fuddy-duddies that were too often breaking up their fun.
Still, because they carried out missions both domestically and on Earth, no one at the Academy had a better finger on the pulse of our internal situation than they. The team saw how low morale had fallen in our portion of Heaven, and how that had translated into ever-increasing depravity and decadence.
Abishai and his four-member team made five. Volk, Sett, Virgil and I, brought us to nine.
After much consideration, we reached the depressing conclusion that among all the other veteran cupids there was not a single one who qualified. Abishai’s men aside, all the rest of the Academy’s veterans, highly effective soldiers though many were, were already too corrupt, indoctrinated, or depraved to be trusted with the knowledge we intended to impart. The remaining three recruits would have to come from the lesser-experienced cadets or recent Academy graduates.
By combining Grace’s access to personal records and Virgil’s knowledge of his fellow cadets, we were able to come up with six potential candidates. With those names in mind, Virgil and I paid visits to the young cupids in invisible mode, observing them in their private time when they were alone or in the company of a trusted friend. We compared notes and settled on the three most likely nominees.
Shooting Eros - The Emuna Chronicles: Complete Boxset: Books 1 - 3 Page 61