With a sweep of his hand, he tossed the blanket over Allah’s gate. As it drifted over the hole, it too turned to sand and disappeared into nothing. Truly, Allah works in ways unknown to him. Not wanting to incur the wrath of something that he knows little about, he wisely decided to leave. Taking the indifferent camel by the reins, he did not have to pull hard to get it to follow.
After what Akmard Zima saw as a strange and wondrous revenge for the murder of his son, he returned to the oasis where his other son was waiting for him. On the long trek back across the Arabian Desert to their encampment, the son soon grew tired of hearing the repeated bizarre and unbelievable story of how his father had seen Allah’s Gate condemn the murderer to hell.
A few days after returning to camp the whole tribe grew tired of Akmard’s constant ramblings about seeing a great hole in the sand and Allah bursting forth to turn the killer into sand and blown away by the wind. It had been a long ordeal for the old man. The villagers understood tricks of the sand and what it can do to the mind. A Mirage is a fact of the desert. Many believed that Akmard had returned but his mind had not. Soon, nobody was sitting by the fire listening to him anymore.
One morning the son woke to see his father hitching up the camel. He said that he was humiliated that nobody believed him and was returning to Allah’s gate. He had talked some of the other Elders into coming with him to see the proof of his story. Because it was the duty of the son to follow the father, reluctantly he too prepared his camel and packed supplies for a five-day journey into the hot desert.
On the fifth day, Akmard pointed and told them that just over the next dune was Allah’s Gate, the proof of his sanity. The excited Akmard spurred his camel forward and he was the first over the crest of the dune. Peering out over the sand, he sat on his camel in frozen disbelief. As he gazed down into the holy place, he was stunned and left speechless. One by one, his disbelievers dismounted and stood beside him gazing in puzzlement. What they saw did not look the way their leader had so often described it.
In the distance they saw the hole and the strange wind bursting out of it but wondered why Allah’s gate to heaven had a fence around it. Inside the compound hundreds of men aimlessly milled about. They saw enough tents for a small army. Akmard knew they were not creatures from the gate for they carried guns. He wondered why armed men would be guarding such a holy place.
He understood the intent of a flag was to claim the land yet he had never seen a red and white flag with stars and stripes on it before. Had somebody from another land come to claim what rightfully belonged to his people, the gateway to Allah. Suddenly there was a great roar from above and all eyes looked up. They are not savages lost to the sands of time. They knew it was a jet. They saw it land within the parameters of the compound.
Akmard then saw the gate leading into the compound open. From inside came what he recognized as a jeep speeding toward them. Because it was coming fast, great waves of sand spewed out from under the racing tires. It came to a grinding halt in front of the stunned group. Three men sprang from the jeep and pointed weapons at them. Akmard thought he was going to be killed and soon he would learn the truth of the hole in the sand.
A man in a military uniform jumped out of the jeep and marched straight up to Akmard and briskly demanded,
“This is a restricted military area. You cannot be here.”
Akmard was stunned. One person cannot claim this holy ground and so he bravely protested,
“But this is the gate to Allah. It is for all people. How is it that you can claim it only for yourselves?”
The man took a step closer to Akmard and the men with the rifles all aimed at him. The man was oblivious to the question and now even louder demanded,
“You are ordered to turn around and leave.”
The rest of Akmard’s group, including his son, now believed this was the holy ground of Allah. There was no going back. Messengers were dispatched to all points of the desert reporting that Allah’s gate had been found. Soon untold numbers of faithful believers journeyed to Allah’s gate and built a shrine to their god. Thousands of tents soon surrounded the compound. There was nothing the army could do except keep the hordes away from the fence.
Chapter 30
The Angel of the Under
Suddenly a loud clanging sound echoed through the lab. Startled, all three snapped around to investigate. It was the elevator motor struggling to raise the platform back up to the entrance door. Still not aware that the top side elevator had brought the hooded people down to the reception area, Whelan feared it might be the General. There was only one way out and it was about to be blocked. Because Whelan had no way of knowing if it was friend or foe, he obeyed his training and decided to error on the side of caution. He quickly snapped an order he expected to go unchallenged.
“Hide, we have to hide.”
Frantic eyes darted back and forth looking for anything that might conceal them. Although the lab was cavernous, most all the computer banks were tight against the walls. There was hardly any place to duck behind. Lynda spotted a desk off to the side and said,
“Over here!”
All three darted behind the desk. There was some jostling for the sake of comfort verses concealment but eventually Whelan was pleased that they were well hidden. He was also pleased to notice that they were in the shady part of the lab. No lights were beaming down on them. From this vantage point, relatively hidden, he could peek over the desk and see the whole lab including the elevator cage.
The Professor thought he was the best hidden because he sat with his back to the wall and hid his face in his hands. Lynda patted his shoulder and whispered,
“That’s a good boy, you just stay like that and nobody will ever see you.”
Noticing that Whelan was peeking above the desk, she decided she too could risk it. Whelan tried to push her head down but stubbornness seemed to have strength of its own, he was not able to budge her.
From their distant vantage point, they saw the elevator platform rise and come to a halt at the upper door. The steel door slid open and to their horror, six figures clad in brown flowing robes with hoods over their heads stepped onto the platform. As one pressed the down button, Lynda whispered,
“Who the hell could that be?”
Whelan hissed back,
“Somebody who is up to no good so please shut up.”
Lynda noticed it first and whispered,
“Look, one of them is handcuffed.”
Once at the bottom, the elevator clanked to a stop and all six walked silently toward the hole. Just a few feet away, one of the hooded figures indicated for two of them to stop. The others continued toward it. The bizarre group was on the other side of the hole but Lynda could still see everything. The one holding a large leather bound book stopped at the edge of the hole.
Lynda watched as he opened the book to a specific page. He was about to read a verse when his large hood slipped forward and impeded his vision. Annoyed, he flipped it off his head. Upon recognizing him, Lynda softly gasped. She looked to Whelan and whispered,
“You don’t seem surprised.”
Whispering back, he said,
“No, I suspected as much when hearing recordings of his ranting over at Fort Lincoln.”
Either because it was too heavy or he was too nervous, General Irsthill had trouble holding the book steady. Perhaps he was thinking that he was too close to the hole for he stepped back a pace and that seemed to calm him. He bellowed aloud,
“Oh master of the great Underworld hear what we your servants say to you this great day. I am returning your missing angel who fell to us. As written in the great book of the Underworld, a reward of Master of the Invading Army will be bestowed on the one who returns your daughter to you, your lost angel. I, General Irsthill will claim that reward and become the leader of the invading army and Master of this Upper World.”
Then followed more of what Lynda perceived to be insane ramblings of an insane mind. A minute later, he
closed the book and turned to the two hooded people behind him. Retaining his bellowing voice, he spoke again to his god.
“Behold your lost daughter, the angle of the Underworld who I shall return to you.”
One of the other hooded figures flipped the hood off what they perceived to be a fallen angel. Again, Lynda gasped and Whelan uttered,
“Holy shit!”
Lynda ducked down and pulled the stunned Whelan with her. Fighting the urge to yell it out, she stayed with a controlled whisper, barely.
“I know how to turn the hole off!”
“Now?”
“No, not now but if we can get out of here I know what to do.”
“What?”
She grew frustrated. It was easy. Why was he not getting it? She hissed,
“Take another look at that so called lost angel from the Underworld he is babbling about.”
Knowing what he saw, he did not need another look. He whispered,
“Yeah, it’s a female alien.”
Both popped their heads over the desk for another look. She had the looks of a typical gray. Even though the robe hid her figure, it was plain to see that she was of slight frame with a slightly larger head. She possessed those very characteristic big black eyes. She stood with slouched shoulders advertising her submissiveness. Lynda whispered,
“What are they going to do with her?”
He was sure he knew.
A different robed figure stepped forward and faced Irsthill. Lynda saw that they were having an animated conversation with flittering hands punctuating points. She whispered,
“They are arguing over something.”
Whelan agreed and whispered back,
“It looks like there might be some disparity in the ranks,”
Finally, Irsthill’s bellowing voice echoed through the chamber.
“Very well then, be the first.”
He then continued to read from the Book of the Under. It was the same rhetoric as before but this time lasting longer. Finally, Irsthill stepped aside and the hooded person who had been arguing with him stepped forward. His feet were almost touching the hole.
When the person at the edge of the hole flipped the hood back revealing his identity, Lynda whispered,
“Do you know who that is?”
“Yes, that’s Congressman Tait. I recognize him from the ASC meeting. He sits on the budget council of a parent company that supports projects like Deep Lab 6. It’s his job to procure illicit funds for projects like this. No wonder he was so adamant at the meeting about leaving the General in charge of this lab.”
“What’s he going to do?”
“I’m afraid I know the answer to that. When it happens cover your mouth so you don’t scream.”
The Congressman raised his arms to his side and the large sleeves drape downward. Then submitting to a power unseen, Congressman Tait bellowed in a voice for all to hear.
“I am the servant of General Irsthill. With the promised reward of power and wealth everlasting I come to serve you.”
With no hesitation, Congressman Tait took a fatal step into the deadly hole.
Whelan knew Lynda was too stunned to cover her mouth so he did it for her. The only sound she was able to produce was a muffled gasp. When seeing the results of anti-matter attacking flesh and blood, her eyes bolted wide. As soon as his foot entered the invisible shaft of destruction, it immediately disappeared and anti-matter disintegrated the man faster than he could fall into it. Without so much as a scream or objection, Tait was gone. Three of the hooded figures then turned to each other and began muttering something Lynda could not hear. She thought they had gone into some ritualistic chanting ceremony.
Slowly Whelan removed his hand from Lynda’s mouth, which was still very much wide open. As her eyes slowly narrowed and her mouth closed, she whispered,
“My god, he killed himself for a stupid belief that the hole is a gateway to another world. What did he say, the Underworld?”
Whelan whispered,
“That’s what they all think it is. For some reason Irsthill and those men think it’s a gate of some kind.”
“But they are not going anywhere. They are killing themselves. Can’t they see that?”
Whelan understood that sometimes a belief could be so strong that it stifles common sense. He shook his head and whispered,
“No they can’t. It’s called blind faith.”
Suddenly there was a slight jostling to Lynda’s left. Startled she snapped around and saw that the Professor was squeezing between them to observe the ritual. Calmly the Professor said,
“To us the living, he seemed dead for he had disappeared into a place we do not understand. Nobody knows what is on the other side. Once there and if he could look back on us, it is very possible that it is us who appear to be dead.”
Lynda did not want to get into a philosophical discussion right now. However, with eyes glued to him she said,
“Dead is dead Professor. The man’s body dematerialized into the reign of atoms.”
With eyes still glued to the Professor, Lynda saw that by his blank look he was not listening. She got the impression that for some reason he was desperate to believe the Congressman had gone to another world. When he finally responded his voice was meek, sounding like a little child hopelessly defending an inappropriate deed to a chastising adult.
“Maybe he is in a world where he doesn’t need a soul.”
Lynda did not need to think long for a reply. Instantly she whispered back,
“A place like that is called hell.”
“All I’m saying is that nobody really knows what death is. Most people believe in heaven but do not know what or where it really is. It could just be another dimension. I believe it to be just the tone of a bell away.”
Slowly almost passively, he turned toward her and the intensity of her returning stare suddenly made him regret looking at her. It was so forceful he was compelled to tear away and look down at the floor. She sternly whispered,
“Be careful what you are implying Professor. It sounds to me like you want to believe that the saucer has come from heaven.”
She waited for a reply but none was coming. Slowly he looked up and careful to avoid her eyes, looked back to the hole. As Lynda did the same, she heard him mutter,
“I’m just saying that nobody knows.”
Lynda had the last word,
“Don’t be stupid Professor, these people are idiots to think a temporal breach is a gateway to some idiotic place or whatever it is they believe in.”
She remembered what she once heard, ‘the mind of a zealot is not attached to logic’.
Whelan was not listening, eyes instead drawn intently to the men in the robes. When the chanting filled the chamber again, he reached over to touch Lynda, to get her attention. He said,
“They are preparing to do something else now. Get ready for anything.”
There were only two people not chanting and remaining perfectly still. The submissive alien girl and the other one with hands tied at the back.
One hooded figure turned to Irsthill and in a voice they could all hear said,
“It is good that you sent your servant ahead to prepare your way. It shows that you have great strength in this world.”
Then the hooded figure beseeched,
“Grant the same honor on me. Allow me to go next and herald your arrival to those who wait for you.”
This was not what Irsthill had in mind but upon reflection thought it to be a good idea. The original plan was to enter first and as a gift, bring the lost angel with him. Upon further deliberation, sending his servants before him seemed like a much better idea. What if the servants changed their mind and refused to follow him. What could he do about it from the Underworld?
Irsthill conceded, nodded and stepped aside. The man stepped forward and flipped the hood aside. There was reverence in his face, a satisfying smile that indicated an inner peace. Pleasure was coursing through him. Lynda whispere
d,
“I suppose you know him too do you?”
“Yes, that’s Governor Sheltie. He sits on the board of the Astrophysical Securities Council. It looks like the General has gathered quit a flock of followers into his mad camp. They all have something to do with this facility, either financing it or making the policies. I got a funny feeling I know who the other one is.”
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