He tossed the disk again. This time, the large O was visible.
“I can do good, or I can do evil. An X or an O. Adryel, what are the odds I would do good? You know the answer.”
“As you noted, she is not a member of the council. . .” Jophiel began.
“Let her speak,” Michael said.
After a long pause, Adryel turned to Lord Lucifer. “In the absence of any other influence, the likelihood of good behavior is one of two. Half of the time you would do good.”
“Circle, I wish you a good evening. X, I ravish you.”
“Lucifer, this is—”
Lucifer ignored Gabriel and flipped the disk into the air once more. It landed with a thump, X facing up. Lucifer smirked.
At that Ramael sprang from his chair again, his hand clutching the hilt of his sword.
“Lucifer, enough.” Uriel’s voice thundered through the room.
Lucifer smiled wickedly. “And the next time I should meet her, or another beautiful female, the probabilities would have changed. If I had ravished her, and if I had enjoyed it,” his eyes flicked toward Adryel, then back to Uriel, “the disk would be loaded, and the probability of evil would be greater than that of good.”
He stood and looked toward Ramael, who had not resumed his seat. “She is paired to you, Ramael. What would you do if I were to accost your pair?”
Ramael took a step forward, sliding his sword from its scabbard. “I would slit your throat.”
“Hold, now.” Uriel held up his hand. “Michael, control your aide.”
“Control him? I’d likely assist him.” Michael chuckled, seeming to enjoy the prospect.
The sound of a second sword sliding from its metal scabbard rang out as Maliel jumped to his feet. “I would defend you, Lord Lucifer.”
“And you both would die,” Ramael growled.
Lucifer grinned. “Do you think so?”
“I do.”
For a moment the two postured, adopting threatening positions, neither backing down. Lucifer was larger than Ramael, and Maliel stood beside him. Ramael, though, was a warrior. The muscles in his arms bulged beneath his robe. His battle sword was easily twice the size of Maliel’s blade, and he held it as effortlessly as a cook might hold a paring knife.
“Perhaps we would.” Lucifer stepped back as laughter rang out around the table. “But the point is clear,” he roared above the din. “Evil choices would be inevitable. Evil would follow evil,” he motioned at Ramael and Maliel, “and more evil would follow that. Chaos would be close behind.”
He sat, leaning back in his chair, but his red face and heavy breathing showed him to be anything but relaxed. “The plan is flawed. Fatally flawed. It must be withdrawn.”
A moment of silence followed. Adryel glanced at the faces of the archangels. Did they agree with Lucifer? Did they at least recognize the danger in Adonai’s plan?
“Michael, I know you had prior knowledge of this plan.” Lucifer thumped the book. “Is there no strategy to contain the chaos?”
Adryel detected a note of desperation in his voice, as if Lucifer needed Michael’s reassurance that his fears were for naught.
Michael held up his empty hands. “I saw a summary last night. Uriel thought I might want to increase the number of guards around the city.”
“You see?” Lucifer gazed around. “Uriel believes the ordinary angels will see the problem. They will see it and object. This issue is not an academic one then. It is very, very real.”
“Adonai does not judge the potential problems to be as serious as you seem to believe,” Uriel said. All eyes turned to him.
“Yes, I discussed the plan with Adonai. He tells me that Lucifer’s disk would not simply be loaded with the enjoyment of evil, but with good influences too. He wants the humans to choose the good, to freely choose to love and follow him. He hopes that they will.”
“Lunacy!” Lucifer sprang to his feet. “I care nothing about the planets or the stars or the other creatures on that planet, but the humans must be stricken from the plan or contained in some manner. We must oppose this proposal and do so with force.”
“We, of course, have been asked for our counsel on this matter,” Uriel replied. “Lucifer makes a valid point, I believe. Is there any disagreement?”
“So, we give counsel? We simply say bad idea, and let it go?”
“Lucifer, why are you convinced Adonai has no plan for containing the chaos you are so certain is coming?” Michael asked.
“Because it is not in the plan.” He picked up the book and shook it, and, for a moment, it looked as though he might toss it across the room. “When have we ever been presented with an incomplete proposal?” Lucifer awaited a response, but no one spoke. He dropped the book back onto the table and crossed his arms. “Never. To be incomplete is not in his nature.”
Michael nodded. “Good point.”
“Do as you wish with this plan,” Lucifer snapped. “You may clap and cheer. You may utter a feeble protest. You may sit on your hands and say nothing. Unless your response is one of strong opposition, though, I will not be a party to it.” When no one responded, he turned to Maliel. “We’re leaving.”
Lucifer’s cape swooshed as he flung it about his shoulder, and the floor shook as he marched across the room, trailed by Maliel. He spun around as he reached the door.
“Adonai has gone too far this time. His plan is dangerous, and if he will not see reason—and you know he won’t—well, he must be made to see it, by force, if necessary.”
He flung the door open, the lock shattering and clanging as its parts hit the floor. Adryel saw the expression of shock on the face of the guard as he jumped to his feet, barring the path, only to be kicked aside. The door closed with a bang.
The room was utterly silent for a moment. Everyone seemed to be processing the level of anger in Lucifer’s words and actions.
Finally, Uriel looked anxiously at Michael. “What should we do?”
“Lucifer is overreacting. His analysis simplifies what would actually be a rather complex process that Adonai seems to have already considered. We should, however, raise the question. Acknowledge the possibility of chaos and ask what would be done if Lucifer’s scenario were to play out.”
“What about Lucifer?”
“He will come around. He will stomp about and complain for a few days, but when we receive a response, he will realize there is nothing to fear.”
“I hope you’re right, Michael. Lucifer can be so hotheaded.”
“Yes, Uriel.” Michael laughed. “Difficult to believe he is an archangel.”
Uriel snorted, then looked around the table. “Are there any other issues?”
Michael shook his head. No one spoke.
“I will draft our inquiry and our secretary will distribute copies.” Uriel banged his gavel. “The council is in recess.
Palace Garden
The archangels filed out, but Adryel and Ramael lingered. As she gathered her notes and collected the copies of the plan—all had been left behind as required, except for Lucifer’s—Ramael slid up behind her and kissed her on the back of her neck.
“I seldom get to see you during the day.”
“Too seldom.” Adryel turned, placed her arms around his neck, and returned his kiss. “Did you see me standing on the portico, watching the procession?”
“I did.” He chuckled. “I started to wave at you, but—”
“I did too,” she exclaimed. “Probably not really appropriate?”
“Probably not.”
Adryel placed the copies of the plan in a basket. “Not much to clean up today.” She gazed at Ramael. “What do you think?” she asked.
“About the plan?”
“Yes, about the plan. Lord Lucifer’s argument made sense, don’t you think? He understands the problem better than do some of the others.”
“Everyone saw a potential problem, Adryel.”
“But he was the only one to object, the only one who wants t
o oppose it. The others seem ready to simply accept the plan, problems and all.”
“No, they are asking for more information. That’s not the same as acceptance.”
“But Lord Lucifer—”
“You always defend him, don’t you? If I didn’t know better, I’d be jealous, especially after his example of what would happen if he were human.”
Adryel turned, smiling. “It was sweet of you to come to my defense. You challenged Lord Lucifer, an archangel, and he backed down. Wait until that news spreads through the city.” She stroked his cheek. “You know perfectly well I love only you.”
“I said if I didn’t know better.”
“I know.” She kissed him again. “I need to run. We’re still having our picnic tonight?”
Ramael nodded. “I’ll meet you in the garden at six.”
***
Lucifer had returned to his suite of rooms at the Institute. Wanting to be alone, he’d dismissed Maliel, locked the door, poured a full goblet of wine, and lowered himself into his favorite chair beside a window. Try as he might, he could not turn his thoughts to pleasant matters. The other archangels’ reactions to the plan crowded out everything else. He sensed that only Michael grasped the significance of what he had pointed out, but even Michael had not felt the need to lodge a protest of any consequence.
“They’ll ask for a clarification,” Lucifer grumbled as he sipped from the goblet. “What did you mean? What will you do?” he mimicked the other archangels in a singsong voice. “And when he replies, ‘What? No change?’ They will bow their heads and agree.”
He slammed his fist on the table. In his memory, the council had never actually objected to any proposal to come from Adonai, not even the move, an eon ago now, to admit females as students at the Institute. They’d all had questions then, but, as at today’s meeting, he had been the only one to speak out.
He sighed. Actually, the admission of females had not been the disaster he had expected. A few of them were very bright. He thought of Adryel. One of the best. Better than almost all of the males.
He stared out the window, picturing her. She was different from the other females. Smart, logical, goal-directed. He had been pleased when an opening had occurred in the philosophy department and he had been able to offer her the position. She was an excellent teacher, and his appointment of a female had enhanced his reputation as a forward thinker, someone not afraid of change. Besides, he liked having her around.
If only she were an angel.
There were nine orders among the host of heaven. Adryel was a power. Angels, archangels, principalities, and powers were the four lowest orders, the least spiritual of them. The powers were warriors, and the army of heaven was composed almost entirely of them. They were strong and muscular, formidable in a fight. He had once seen a small power stand up to five angels during an argument in the Institute’s quadrangle. The angels had all fled with their tails between their legs.
Lucifer recalled his confrontation with Ramael at the council meeting. He was Adryel’s pair, and, like her, he was a power, Lucifer decided it had been wise to stand down.
Creation of the powers was another of Adonai’s poor decisions. It was not that an order of warriors was a bad thing, not at all. Of the archangels, only Michael had any inclination to dirty his hands in combat, and few ordinary angels were so inclined. Adonai’s error had occurred when he realized that the other orders were unemotional. Only powers were truly emotive—Adonai had used the creation of them as an avenue for expanding emotions to the heavenly host.
Although. . .it was not strictly true that only powers had the ability for emotive responses. In the most primitive regions of their brains, the others—angels and archangels, at any rate—did have simple emotions, but had developed in such a way as to ignore the twinges of feeling that popped out at random times. It took a major event to elicit any passionate expression from an angel. Furthermore, many angels had disciplined themselves to completely suppress the feelings they did have so that they could freely use the intelligence with which they had been blessed.
Powers, on the other hand, gave full vent to their emotions. They laughed, they cried, they screamed when they were angry.
Robiel, one of Lucifer’s mentors, had actually led an uprising when the powers first appeared. Lucifer had had the sense to bail out before Michael’s army had quashed the rebellion, before Robiel and his followers had been sent to the pit—a shadowy place far away from the city, a place from which no one ever returned.
Lucifer shivered at the recollection of the stories that were told about life in the pit.
He took a long, slow sip of his wine, contemplating. Emotions were fine for soldiers, he supposed, maybe beneficial even, but they interfered with one’s ability to think. That was why so few powers were admitted as students at the Institute. That was what made Adryel so unusual, why she was the lone power on the faculty.
Lucifer believed her to have angel ancestry. There were stories—true ones—of angels who had actually paired with powers. It had happened eons in the past, but genes, he knew, never completely died. Adryel’s mind was too sharp to be swayed by breezes of emotion, her reasoning too clear for her to be a pure power. Her rather small wings, the red tinge to her hair, and her eyes that could shift from the palest blue to that of the dark sapphires set into Adonai’s throne gave her away.
Although appearing to be rather dainty, she had the powerful arms that were typical of her order. Once, when she was in her first year at the Institute, she had accepted a challenge to arm-wrestle one of the older, male angels. Even though he’d never actually encountered a female power before, the angel had heard tales of their strength and he’d wanted to prove he was her equal. In a matter of seconds, his arm had been slammed flat on the table. She’d bested over twenty seniors that day, losing to none.
Adryel, however, had never attempted to completely rid herself of her emotions as some powers had. As a result, from time to time, Lucifer would hear her laughter float through the halls or see her smiling face glowing in the dining hall.
When he had first known her, the combination of her superior intelligence and her seductive personality had been almost too much for him. In the end, though, she had latched onto and paired with Ramael—the power who followed Michael around like a pet dog. It was for the best, he knew, but in his weak moments he would imagine. . .
Lucifer slipped his hand in his pocket and withdrew the wooden disk, idly flipping it into the air. He should have used a different example at the meeting, but he’d made his point, and, well. . .
Lucifer smiled. Adryel had been so attractive when she’d blushed, and the idea was definitely interesting.
He snapped his head up. No. That was not the thinking of a scholar. He should be above such fantasies.
Lucifer returned to the issue of the humans. If the other archangels did not understand the danger that lay in the plan, then the ordinary angels would be absolutely clueless. . .unless someone made them aware of what was about to happen.
As he considered the matter further, he realized the humans would actually have little effect on him, personally. He never planned to set foot on their ball of rock, their planet. He would never meet one of them, since no human would ever darken the gate to the city, much less the halls of the Institute. Certainly they would cause no end of problems for the angels assigned to them, but not to Lucifer himself.
He refilled his goblet, leaned back in his chair, and rested his feet on a stool. If the angels could be aroused, they would join in a protest. The protest itself would have no effect on the outcome, not directly, not immediately, but the order of the city, its peace, might be disturbed. Chaotic times were times of change—times of opportunity.
Perhaps the dolts on the council should be replaced by a. . .a chief deputy. Maybe the army should be commanded by one with superior intellect, and perhaps old customs, pairing for life, for example, were outmoded and should be replaced. Maybe Adonai, himself, had outli
ved his usefulness.
Lucifer grinned wickedly. Perhaps the day was not as dark as he had thought.
***
That evening, Lucifer entered the palace garden as twilight fell over Celestial City. He had decided to call a meeting at the Institute the next day to discuss the plan, and he intended to invite the entire college to attend, students and teachers alike. Discussion was really a misnomer, he knew. There would be precious little discussion. During the meeting he would describe the plan. He had kept his copy and he intended to read selections, some that were humorous, and others which, as he would explain, were frightening.
He wanted Adryel to attend the meeting, and to confirm his report and his observations. He had seen her nodding as he spoke during the meeting. He supposed she agreed with him, and, had she been a member of the council, she would have given support. He crossed the garden on his way to the house Adryel shared with Ramael, to tell her of his intention and to solicit her support.
Of course Ramael would hear what he said to her, and, since it was too much to hope Ramael would side with him, Lucifer expected he would likely run to Michael, giving him a full report.
He shrugged.
“Let him tattle,” he said to himself as he strolled down the avenue. “Michael will have no grounds to interfere. In fact, Michael might overreact and antagonize the students, raise their ire beyond what I can do alone.”
Lucifer walked on, looking down at the path, deep in thought. His head jerked up when he heard voices. Although the garden was beautiful in the evening, lit by soft lanterns whose light was reflected by the stream that meandered through it, he had, for some reason, not expected to encounter anyone. His pace slowed almost to a stop as he listened, trying to make out the words, but the voices were too soft.
Curious, he chose a path that led toward the sound. Peering from behind a shrub, he saw two figures reclining on a red blanket beside the stream, a basket and a wine jug beside them.
“Orbs,” he sniffed. He was immediately ashamed of himself. It was a derogatory term. Lesser angels sometimes used it in reference to the manner in which the powers’ faces would glow like an orb of light whenever they were happy. Its use was beneath him, and, even though he had been speaking to himself, he felt as if he were one of the lowlife, trashy angels who thought themselves superior to the powers, not because of anything they had accomplished, but simply because they had been born angels.
Between Heaven and Hell Page 2