Intervention: God's Other Children

by Rob Mclean

  “Where is this nightclub?” Angela asked. John thought she sounded a bit impatient. “Is it around here somewhere?”

  “Yeah. Not far now.”

  “I thought we’d be going downtown,” she said still looking out at the passing houses. They were getting grander as they turned off the boulevard and headed up towards the hills.

  “You wouldn’t see many stars there.” John smiled quietly at his cryptic answer.

  “Stars?” Angela looked worried. “I am definitely under-dressed to be seen with movie stars.”

  John laughed. “You’ll be fine. You look great.” However, it did nothing to ease her concerns.

  “Trust me,” he added as the road narrowed. They skirted elegant pockets of suburbia and climbed up the scrubby hills.

  Huge signs by the side of the road showed the turn-off to the Griffin Observatory. Despite her increasingly agitated state, Angela noticed one of them. She turned to John. Her eyes narrowed and her lips pressed tight together. She then punched him as hard as she could on his shoulder. He laughed.

  “John Hunter, you’re a pig.” She hit him again, as the last one didn’t seem to hurt him enough.

  “Hey, relax,” he said, “before you hurt yourself.”

  “It’s a sort of nightclub,” she mocked. She then crossed her arms and glowered at him. He chuckled as he pulled into the parking lot. There were a surprising number of vacant spots, and they had no trouble finding a park fairly close.

  “You hungry?” he asked, ignoring her sulk and getting out of the car. “We’ve got time before the show starts.”

  With an overly dramatic sigh, Angela gathered up her things and checked herself in the mirror before allowing John to hold the door open for her. He offered her his hand as she got out of the car.

  “Come on, Princess,” he said.” “If you can’t laugh at yourself, who can you laugh at?” She gave him a ‘we are not amused’ scowl, but took his hand anyway and held it as they walked across the car-park and onto the forecourt lawns.

  A large geometrical spire monument stood prominently in the middle of the front lawn. Six statues surrounded the base, silent sentinels paying homage to great astronomers of history. John and Angela regarded them with muted respect.

  The late afternoon sunlight tinged the monument and the main Observatory building with matching orange hues. The art deco lines of the building, the triple domes and the architectural detail gave it a character that was missing in so many of the plain glass-fronted modern buildings. It came from an era where the dollar wasn’t almighty and didn’t solely determine the bottom line. Aesthetics were clearly a major consideration.

  John wanted to head straight to the box office to buy the tickets to the planetarium, but Angela had wandered off to the right, the western side, where something had caught her attention.

  John followed her and saw that it was a bronze bust of James Dean that she was interested in. He pointed out to her how they had positioned it so the ‘Hollywood’ sign could be seen in the background.

  “Who is he?” she asked. “Is he a modern astronomer?”

  John studied her face, trying to see if she was for real. He couldn’t decide. “You haven’t heard of James Dean?” he had to ask.

  “Should I have?” she asked, moving closer to read the plaque. “Is he someone important?”

  John just shook his head. “I guess not,” he said.

  “Ha!” Angela exclaimed, jabbing a finger at him. “Of course I know who James Dean is. ‘Rebel Without a Cause,’ ‘Giant’. He died young in a car crash. He’s a cultural icon.” She grinned at John, who slowly realized that he had been tricked.

  “Not just a pretty face then?” he said.

  “Just because I’m a Christian,” she said holding up her gold Crucifix that had been hanging around her neck, “don’t assume I’ve lived in a cocoon.”

  “Okay, point taken,” he said smiling.

  As they approached the ticket booth in the main foyer, John noticed that Angela still had her crucifix hanging outside her top. He leaned in and whispered to her, “I wish you hadn’t flashed that cross around.”

  A frown crossed her face. “And why is that?”

  “Because they charge you double here if you’re religious.”

  “No way! You’ve got to be kidding me?”

  “No, it’s because of the alien thing.” He tried hard to keep a straight face.

  “But that’s discriminatory,” she said, putting her hands on her hips, ready for a fight. “It’s unconstitutional. I won’t pay it.”

  “Good for you,” John said as they approached the ticket booth. He had tried to book on-line earlier, but they only sold tickets to the planetarium on site and only for the next show. Jarred had advised him to get there early, but judging by the small number of people in the queue to go in, he needn’t have bothered. Angela stood next to him, swinging the crucifix around her neck prominently for the attendant to see.

  “Two thanks,” said John, pushing forward some cash.

  “Any concessions?” the attendant asked.

  “No,” John took a sidelong look at Angela and smiled at her as she watched him, “but she’s a Christian.”

  “So, that’s a no then?” the attendant asked. “That’ll be seven dollars each.”

  John took the tickets and the change, so he didn’t see the kick to his shin until it was too late. Luckily she was only wearing ballet flats. Still, it did hurt.

  “Ow, hey stop,” he tried to defend himself from another kick and then a punch to his shoulder, all the time laughing and fending off her good-natured blows.

  “You really are quite a violent type, aren’t you?”

  “You deserve it,” she said, landing another playful punch.

  “Are you alright, sir?” asked the attendant in a slightly bored tone. “Should I call security?”

  “No, sorry. We’ll be fine,” Angela said, giving John a pouting, black look before he led her away.

  “So, you were saying about something to eat?” she asked.

  “That would be in the café,” said John, rubbing his arm.

  “And where’s that?”

  “At the end of the universe,” he replied with a smile.

  “Yeah, right.” Angela looked like she was about to kick him again, when the attendant called out, “He’s right, ma’am. It’s through the exhibits in the western alcoves, then down a level.”

  “Come on Princess, I’m starving,” John said.

  She rolled her eyes and started to follow him when she stopped and stared up at the ceiling. “Oh, wow, look at the artwork.”

  Above them was a domed ceiling painted with a fresco of heavenly figures supporting astral bodies. She stood there transfixed. Celestial creatures of the zodiac and constellations were intertwined with mythical God-like humans. They played out a story that she didn’t know, but the style was like that she had seen before in churches.

  “It’s like a cathedral,” she said awestruck, “but for scientists.”

  John thought about it for a moment. He could see the similarities: the devoted disciples, the reverence and the grandeur of the architecture. It was just for a different branch of worship.

  They made their way through the exhibitions, briefly stopping at each. Angela didn’t seem too interested in the science, but keenly noticed the many artworks and the way the aesthetic way that the displays were presented.

  The café was clean and bright with modern white modular chairs, hanging bulbous white lights and exposed air-con ducting, all of which added to the futuristic, science lab feel of the place.

  They grabbed a light meal and had no trouble finding seats near a window as there were not many patrons around. The place was only a quarter full. Outside the late afternoon sun was a fiery ball hanging low above the sea. The observatory was on an outcrop and stood majestically above the rest of the city. Down below, the streetlights were just coming on, and their grid like pattern was beginning to show against the s
etting sun. It made an impressive view, but John’s eyes were mostly watching Angela.

  They left the café, and bypassing the gift shop, made their way through the exhibits on the lower level. They spent a little time at each. John found them absorbing, but they had to make their way up to the planetarium for the next show.

  They found the entrance to the planetarium and took their allotted seats. The planetarium was only half full, mostly with tourists, so they could stretch out. The lights dimmed and John reached over and took Angela’s hand. She squeezed his in reply.

  The show was about the northern lights, the Aurora Borealis. It told of how the Vikings believed that the shimmering curtains of celestial lights were the Valkyries coming to take the souls of the fallen Viking warriors to Valhalla, the palace of the Norse Gods. It also showed the scientific explanation, that energetic charged particles ejected from the Sun interacted with the Earth’s magnetic field to cause the luminescence.

  The show lasted about half an hour. John found it fascinating, but wondered what Angela, with a more spiritual background, was making of it.

  When the lights came back on, all she said was “interesting.”

  They made their way through the rest of the exhibits and looked at the solar and optical telescopes. After half an hour or so of looking at the displays, they decided to go back to the café and get a coffee. He had been told by Jarred that the view from the promenade walkway around behind the planetarium was worth a look.

  Back in the café, having ordered their cappuccinos, they were interrupted by a news announcement. A television screen that appeared to have been recently set up above the counter, most likely in response to the arrival of the alien vessel seized their attention. It showed hundreds of ‘pro-alien’ supporters amassed on Santa Monica beach, celebrating the latest development.

  The latest ‘breaking news’ told of the decision by many Western nations to simultaneously hold a referendum, in response to the Alien’s offer, based on the question ‘Do you reject religion?’

  The date of the public vote was still to be announced and was the subject of much negotiation, as was the exact wording of the plebiscite’s question.

  It was pointed out by an ‘expert’ commentator that, historically a ‘no’ result was the most common outcome, as people preferred to stay with what was familiar and known. It then became important how the question was worded.

  Angela regarded the news impassively.

  John’s mind was working through the implications. Many nations, including Israel, Saudi Arabia, Iran, Pakistan and Syria had already declared themselves religious and to have officially rejected the Alien’s offer. There were many other countries that had already accepted the offer, most notably China, but also Vietnam, North Korea, Mongolia.

  How the many other nations of the world would position themselves was a source of intense speculation.

  “It’s the sheep and the goats,” Angela said, interrupting John’s thoughts. She saw John’s puzzled expression and added, “It’s Biblical. When the AntiChrist comes, the world will be divided into those who believe and those who don’t.”

  John stared at her, again sensing the chasm that separated their worlds.

  “Take me home, please,” she said in a quiet voice.

  “Are you okay?” he asked.

  She nodded, but he wasn’t convinced. He asked for their coffees to go. While they waited, he wrapped his arms around her and held her close to his chest.

  “I’m scared,” she whispered.

  He said nothing. He knew that he couldn’t give her any assurances, so he just held her close. He hoped that she felt comforted, but in truth, John also felt an underlying, nagging anxiety about the future and the Alien’s plans for humanity, but he didn’t give it a voice. He kept his concerns to himself. He didn’t want to worry Angela any more than she already was. He focused instead on the pleasure of having her close.

  Their coffees arrived. They went, holding hands, back out to the car without talking. He wanted to protect her and keep her safe, but he felt frustrated as he didn’t have any idea of exactly what sort of dangers they faced.

  He started the engine and turned to look over his shoulder to back out. Before he moved the car, Angela leaned over and kissed him hard on the lips. Her hand held his face in place as she looked into his eyes. He saw that she had been crying, but now her intent was on him.

  “Kiss me,” she said, but she didn’t wait for him to comply. Instead, she pressed her lips gently on his. He felt the sincerity in her soft kiss and wondered what was going on in her mind. What was she thinking?

  “We should be going.” He knew it sounded lame, but he didn’t want to get hot and heavy with her in the car-park. He remembered the promise–the pledge-he had given, to not have sex with Angela and he wondered briefly if this were not some sort of test. He dismissed the idea just as quickly as it had come. He didn’t see connivance or manipulation in her actions, just fear and worry. Besides, if anything was going to happen, which he hoped wouldn’t – he didn’t want to give her any reason to dump him - then it should be somewhere more comfortable and less public. He backed the car out and drove away back down the hill and into the suburbs. He turned the radio back on to break the silence.

  “Sorry,” she said. “I shouldn’t have, you know, done that.”

  “That’s okay,” he replied with a smile. “I kinda liked it.”

  “That’s just it. I shouldn’t be tempting you like that. I’m sorry.”

  “Like I said,” he gave her a quick grin as he sipped his coffee, “I liked it.”

  Angela pursed her lips and a frown marred her beauty. She said nothing for a few minutes, but eventually she had to ask, “Doesn’t it, like, um hurt?”

  “Hurt?” John asked. “What do you mean?”

  “You know, when you get, um, interested and then are frustrated,” she said.

  He saw that she looked uncomfortable. Her cheeks reddened slightly, but he had to laugh. “No, where did you get that idea?”

  Angela opened her mouth to talk, but stopped. John watched as a flurry of emotions swept across her face. In the end she said nothing. She looked down and studied her fingernails.

  “Your father wouldn’t have said anything like that.”

  “Goodness, no,” she said. “Look, forget I even asked anything, okay?” She squirmed in her seat and readjusted her seat-belt.

  “It was that loser Zeke, wasn’t it?” smiled John. He didn’t think her cheeks could get any redder, but her blush extended to her ears.

  “I don’t want to talk about it anymore, okay?” She held her coffee to her lips with both hands and sipped it slowly.

  “Sure,” John said. He could see that she wasn’t going to say anything more at least until she had finished her drink. He turned his attention to merging into freeway traffic. It wasn’t long before Angela heard a song that she liked on her Christian radio station and cranked up the volume.

  They drove for twenty minutes or so not talking, just listening to the music. He felt he should say something, but the music was played a solid wall of sound that kept his conversation out. He decided to reach over and put his hand on her knee.

  “You okay?” he mouthed. She just nodded. They went on like that for several more miles before the music was interrupted by the announcer. After some station sponsors, he introduced a special panel and the guest speakers.

  “Hey, it’s Pastor Greg,” Angela said.

  “And who’s he?” John asked.

  “He’s the Pastor at my church and a really nice man,” said Angela. “You’ll be seeing him on Sunday, if you keep your end of our deal.”

  “You should be more worried about meeting my family,” John said.

  They listened as Pastor Greg and his counterparts from other faiths all talked about the diverse number of religious groups, from Christians and Jews through to Muslims and Hindus, that were united in denouncing the Alien’s conditions for giving assistance to humanity.r />
  They said it was unethical and immoral for an advanced culture to withhold help. They argued that the Western nations didn’t put unreasonable conditions upon our foreign aid and neither would any other truly benevolent civilization.

  They went on to say that one’s beliefs should be between themselves and God and that it was unconstitutional for the government to impose conditions or restrictions, even if they were on the Alien’s behalf. They further concluded that the behaviour and the actions of the Alien clearly showed that it is the physical manifestation of the Devil come to tempt the faithful as prophesised in the Last Days.

  John had to laugh quietly to himself when the various religious delegates then started to argue amongst themselves about the exact nature of this ‘Devil’ and his current agenda. The station announcer then crossed back to some messages from their sponsors.

  “They have a point,” Angela said as she lowered the volume. “We don’t know why the Alien wants to mess with our beliefs.”

  “Probably just sees it as something old-fashioned, something we no longer need,” John shrugged.

  “Even if that’s true, then why force us to choose like this? Why tempt us to abandon religion?”

  John shrugged again. “I don’t know. I don’t think about it a lot.”

  “That’s because you’re not being asked to give up your God.”

  “True, but the Aliens would look at our religions and see our ‘Gods’ and laugh,” John said.

  “What do you mean, laugh?”

  “Well, we humans have a God and it’s a human-type of God.”

  “So?”

  “I bet that if you asked them, there were Alien cultures that once had alien-like Gods. They probably outgrew the need for them and that’s why they are now zipping across the galaxy.”

  “I don’t get what you’re on about.”

  “I remember Jarred talking about someone who once said that if triangles had a God, then their God too would be a triangle.”

  “But it’s all cultural based. God doesn’t change; it only how we see Him. If they see God as a triangle, that’s fine with me, as long as it’s the same God.”