by Mark Kraver
“He never viewed his fellow seraph as anything other than what he was, a bio-mechanical companion to his master.”
Chapter 48
Shall I not tell you who will be forbidden from the Fire? It will be forbidden for every gentle, soft-hearted and kind person.
Prophet Muhammad, 570-632, Earth
Library of Souls
Har Megiddo
The Supreme Leader of Iran sat in his private chambers sipping tea. The room looked like a palace filled with gifts from all around the world. He mused at each trivial token given to him in clandestine backdoor oil concessions by energy hungry power brokers. Those very same pirates who supported the recent conflict against the very hand that fed them. Blocking the Straits of Hormuz oil corridor to the world was always his country’s ace-in-the-hole, and now even that had been stripped out from underneath them by the great Satan himself. However, the one gift that interested him the most today was the ninety-inch LED high definition 4K television given to him by North Korea, showing the world-wide coverage of the ‘Cloud of Christ.’
He sat with his three closest advisors from his political party, who also had their eyes glued to the massive TV monitor. Anger began to boil over at what was said during the live coverage from the UN building.
“This is an off-Broadway Hollywood stunt to distract everyone’s eyes from their conquest of Jerusalem,” the reserved Akbar said, breaking the mesmerizing silence.
“Yes, but how did they get every channel and every camera to view the same thing?” questioned Reza.
“The UN bombing wasn’t one of ours,” said the more militant Hassan. “Why is there not more coverage on the damage to New York Harbor? Surely this would be a headline?”
“Maybe it interferes too much with their Hollywood stunt? Maybe they are using this to disguise some other plot against us?” asked Reza, going along with Akbar logic.
“Maybe they know something?” Hassan said, without mentioning what everyone in the room held closed in their minds—Har Megiddo.
The room fell quiet. All eyes were forced back to the television monitor like a hypnotic ocular funnel. They were afraid to look away, not wanting to miss a thing. They searched for the slightest hint of fraud, deception or deceit; they were suspicious men who trusted no one, present company included.
The Supreme Leader broke the smothering silence by asking, “What of this blackout? Is it Judgement Day?”
Eyeballs bounced around the room like an old-fashioned pinball machine. No one wanted to distinguish himself by giving an opinion on what could be the end of the world as they knew it.
“If it is Judgement Day, then how will we be judged?” the Supreme Leader asked. “Will Allah approve of Har Megiddo? Will we be judged as cowards if we simply wait and wonder until we are all consumed by the unknown? What will the Americans and their puppet allies do once we send our missile barrage to weaken the Israeli defenses and establish a pattern of attack? A nuclear finale will be easy for them to track back to its origin. Will the poorest people of our country bear the brunt of their retaliation?”
“By the time Har Megiddo is realized, Judgement Day will have swallowed the American fleet in the gulf. They will be powerless to help the Zionist,” Hassan said.
“I believe this blackout of communications approaching from the south is a US-led computer virus being spread throughout the world wide web to thwart vengeance against their mortal enemies,” Reza said, breaking under the piercing eyes of his Supreme Leader. “They may be using this communications breakdown to conceal their own nuclear strike.”
“If this is true, then it may indeed interfere with our plans,” Hassan concluded.
“You do not believe these developments are of concern, Akbar?” the leader asked, interested in what all his trusted advisors had to say on the matter.
“I am not prepared to say anymore one way or the other at this time,” Akbar responded in his typical diplomatic double talk.
“Come now, you must have an opinion?” the leader pressed. His unusual manner created noticeable distress in Akbar’s face and posture.
“I believe you have trapped our poor colleague into finally taking a stance. What is your opinion, Akbar?” chimed in Hassan.
“I believe if we do not execute Har Megiddo immediately, we will all be judged by Allah as cowards,” he finally spat out from behind his bearded lips.
“We may have already been judged,” said the Supreme Leader.
Chapter 49
The best way to find out if you can trust somebody is to trust them.
Ernest Hemingway. 1899-1961, Earth
Library of Souls
Rogue
Traveling at the speed of sound, Yahweh and Numen raced across the Atlantic towards the South coast of France. Their weightless gravity bubble was now towing an immense flock of flying cherubim.
Numen updated his data bank information on the bombing of the UN building and the general state of world affairs for his own use via his Atlantean connections spread out across the planet but chose to not worry his master about the fine details until need be.
“What do you calculate the response will be to my press conference?” Yahweh asked Numen. He had never addressed an entire planet before and was feeling a little self-conscious.
“I think you got your point across.”
“I must say you have prepared this planet well for my resurrection.”
“I was afraid you would not approve.”
“It’s hard not to approve when the alternative is, well, you know.”
“I do not like red giants, either.”
“Neither do I,” Yahweh said, putting his hand on Numen’s shoulder. “Now all I have to do is collect Ra and El’s deed crystal, receive their blessings, and the genesis will begin.”
“Do you think they will or can?” asked Numen.
Yahweh took in a deep breath and looked ahead.
They passed through the sunset’s crepuscular light whisking over the tops of French coastal pine trees, leaving behind a sonic boom.
“You think they will know we are coming?” Yahweh asked, with a wink and tugging on his earlobe, watching the trailing effects of their hyper-sonic booming on the ground dust and tree leaves.
“When I first arrived on this continent, this area had begun to recover from the last Ice Age. The Age of the Reindeer, I called it. The people of this region were very different back then. In many ways more civilized.”
“Indeed?”
“Yes, closely knit families organized under very stringent rules and decisive punishments. The people of today live in a world of weak laws and strong criminals.”
“One thing has been bothering me about the development of this planet,” said Yahweh. “Why hadn’t Ra and El’s seraphim advanced the people of this world more? After all, they have had ample time to do so.”
“Unknown.”
Numen thought that his master may have noticed his quick response to an extremely complicated question. He wasn’t sure why he gave the response he gave, and now began to feel a little guilty. He could not calculate why his approach was different than his two other seraphim counterparts, Ba and Rogue, and he didn’t want to distinguish himself on this matter.
Yahweh sensed something was not quite right with his companion’s answer. He continued to probe. “Why did you take all of this upon yourself to deliver us from the red giant?”
For a nanosecond, Numen’s mitochondrial-core processor screamed “unknown.” But he adjusted and instead answered, “My first response was to reply ‘unknown.’ I believe this is because I do not understand my computations. I think there is a conflict between my programming and your neuro-engrams as it pertains to the primary directive—to protect and defend you at all cost.”
Yahweh kept looking at Numen, prompting him to continue his analysis.
“In a way, Armilus—Rogue—was interacting with the population when he impersonated deities all over the planet. He taught the ancient Egyptia
ns, Greek, Romans, Chinese, and the people of northern Europe about new technologies through warfare and conflict. Survival of the fittest. This was his way of disseminating information. El’s seraph, Ba, had a different approach. He launched civilized belief systems throughout the greater part of the world, trying to unite people into an expanded cooperation—to therefore create the environment for advancements in technology. However, that approach bogged down in the doldrums of religious ideology.”
“But you did it differently. What was your reasoning?” asked Yahweh.
“Seeding superior technology in one region gave advantage to that group of people who use it to dominate their neighbors. This did not offer any benefit to the entire region. This was very difficult to manage over long periods of time, and it proved fruitless.”
“Interesting. Tell me, how did you start this endeavor?” Yahweh said, continuing to stimulate Numen’s output. “Tell me about the Atlantean project.”
“It started in this general region of the planet, in the vicinity of Greece. On the small island of Santorini, in the South Aegean Sea, to be exact. Our current trajectory will bring us close to Santorini. Would you like to visit?”
“No. That is unnecessary. Just give me the essentials.”
“Understood. Approximately one point six-six-six antons ago, in what the people of this world now refer to as the 15th Century B.C.E., I began to gather into one place the most advanced human minds I could find. The life expectancy at that time was so unpredictable it was easy to simulate one’s death so that their loss would go unnoticed. The island was an ideal location, and isolated enough to go undetected. With the assistance of Ra’s seraph, Rogue—”
“Armilus,” Yahweh interrupted with disgust.
“—we were able to drill a geothermal vent in the extinct volcanic island and construct a working fusion reactor. Within a few generations, the intelligence quotation of the general population on the island was quite advanced, even for Homo sapiens.”
“So why aren’t you still operating this facility?”
“Good question. I learned that being on an island didn’t guarantee isolation. Once word of Atlantis leaked out to the rest of the surrounding world, every nation wanted to invade our island paradise to steal a piece of our technology. That’s human nature. I should have anticipated this genetic behavior. They weren’t much of a threat; their floating vessels were nothing to repel, and a small laser would ignite their wooden hulls from a great distance. But it seemed like such a waste of effort and life to destroy them, over and over again. So, I decided to move the whole colony, beyond the Pillars of Hercules, to an area of this planet that no one dared to invade.”
“The frozen continent at the bottom of the planet?” asked Yahweh.
“Bottom, top. We have a map of the planet with Antarctica on top. It’s all how you look at it. But yes, the icy continent provided a good place to operate from, and it proved very isolated, even to this very day.”
“What did you do with the existing facility? Leaving all of that technology behind would be dangerous for the development of that timeline, wouldn't you think?”
“Correct. We moved what we needed and left the rest.”
“What did the people do when they finally found the facility?”
“Well, they didn’t find it.”
“No?”
“While I was supervising the construction of the first subterranean dome in Antarctica, the island exploded in a massive volcanic eruption that removed all traces of our existence.”
“How convenient. What happened?” Yahweh asked, giving his seraph an inquiring eye. “Don’t tell me—Armilus?”
“Correct.”
“Why am I not surprised?”
“Query. Why do you reference Rogue by his former name, Armilus?”
“Once a monster, always a monster.”
“I see. Rogue—Armilus—was responsible for securing the island. It turned out that his way of pulling the plug on the geothermal vent was not stable. The subsequent explosion set off a massive tsunami that engulfed many of the adjacent islands and caused catastrophic loss of life. It had such an impact on the local culture, it is still referenced today as the lost continent of Atlantis, though in reality, it was a tiny volcanic island.”
“Perfect,” Yahweh said, with more disgust.
“Without that one event, no doubt Atlantis would have been lost in antiquity. I do believe the current mythological knowledge of Atlantis will serve some purpose in the present.”
“How might that be?”
“It is a shared reference point. Though they may think it mythology, there exists collective ancient memories of a great race of people who are superior in every way,” Numen said, raising one of his strange golden eyebrows.
“Tell me more of your Atlantis and its people.”
“Certainly, but first we need to discuss our current mission,” Numen interrupted the conversation when he noticed the North African coastline coming up.
Yahweh scoffed. “Simple. We locate Ra’s ship, and if she is not able to resurrect to give me her blessings, we will just take it. Either way we secure the deed crystal and leave. How hard can that be?”
“Well, since you repaired my communications array, I have been monitoring many events.”
“Yes? You have something to report?”
“To begin with, the Anti-Babel is now afoot on all of the planet’s major land masses.”
“Curious, why did you name it Anti-Babel?”
“Oh, I didn’t name it, Cassia named it. She is Dimitris’ daughter. He’s the human I left in charge of Atlantis in my stead.”
“Continue.”
“It is in reference to the Biblical Tower of Babel. This is the place in time that everyone began speaking…”
“…in different languages. Of course, I reviewed the Bible when I first resurrected. However, it wasn’t called that in that reference. What an infantile explanation for geographic biodiversity.”
“Yes, well it seemed to fit with the Homo sapiens’ capacity to believe anything they hear.”
“I have noticed there are a variety of devastating diseases that plague this planet’s populations. What is that all about?”
“Biodiversity has its costs. When the first mother mitochondria spawned the predecessors of the genus Homo on this planet, it was a mono-genetic cellular entity. A single line of mitochondrial DNA that spanned the entire genome of the species. After a time, without Elohim guidance, biodiversity bred geographical variations that mutated into different lines of competing mitochondria without tolerance to one another. Between the different maternal lines, warfare pursued. Viruses are the preferred weapons of choice used by mitochondria. Inside their DNA they can stimulate their host cells to produce a variety of servants; DNA viruses, mRNA viruses, transcriptase, and reverse transcriptase viruses, to name a few. They have an immense array of weaponry at their disposal. Over time, the very mitochondria that had launched their warriors at their rivals, mutated, and became targets of the viruses that they deployed against their adversaries. These are the diseases that circumvent the landscape, and to this day continue to plague every life form on this planet.” Numen paused and seemed to be calculating something.
“There is more?” Yahweh asked with another one of his piercing looks.
“Would you like to hear about cross-species infectious mutations?”
“No, no. Is there more I need to know about where we are heading?”
“According to my repaired communications array, it seems that we will not be the first to visit Ra today. Or the second. Nor even the third,” Numen said.
“What?”
“The country that you—we—crash landed in, has sent warriors to secure Ra’s ship. They will not be of any concern. They are only interested in acquiring her ship for further study.”
“And?” Yahweh prompted.
“Neither will the other forces sent by a rival country, to take Ra’s ship away from the Americans
. No telling what they want with her ship. They probably think it is some kind of futuristic weapon.”
“Yes?” said Yahweh, raising his eyebrows for him to reference the third visitor he had alluded to.
“But,” Numen hesitated, flashing countless calculations through his mitochondrial based quantum processor imprinted with his master’s neuro-engrams as to how to proceed with the next sensitive subject.
“But what?” Yahweh pressed.
“It seems that you are having your first face-to-face encounter with—” Numen pondered and pursed his lips before finishing. “Rogue.”
“Rogue? I thought you had him locked up in some ice cave.”
“Not exactly. He has been a valuable resource during the planning—”
“Planning? I thought this was all your idea.”
“Oh, and it is. It’s that he could be relied upon—”
“Relied upon? Relied upon for what? Mischief? Deceit? Destruction? Have I left anything out?”
“Regardless, he is due to arrive before us at Ra’s ship.”
“This is obviously your decision. You could have calculated the appropriate velocity to arrive before or at the very same time. What are you up to? Hmmm?”
“Nothing,” Numen squeaked, and then cleared his speech functions. “I thought it would be a tactical advantage for us to rain down upon him, instead of visa versa. That’s all. Besides, we will have the opportunity to observe his intentions before we engage.”
Yahweh paused for a moment, then smiled and shook his head saying, “I have to admit, that is sound logic. Why do you suppose he is visiting Ra’s ship at this time?”
“Isn’t it obvious? To protect and defend to the best of his ability. I would do the same thing.”
Yahweh felt a strange sense of pride that made his tear duct fill with fluid.
“Yes, but protect and defend from what? Ra’s ship is in no danger with her contingency of cherubim protecting her. He must be wanting to protect her from—me. He must feel threatened somehow by my actions.”