“But I thought you remembered some things about being a person?” Dave asked.
“I do. I was a person. I am a person. If I was an angel, I did something to turn myself human.”
“I guess that pisses them off,” he said.
“I guess it does.”
“What did they do to you?” Hitomi asked, her voice almost a whisper.
Indigo related her tale, slowly and without emotion. Starting from awakening nailed to the wooden stake through to the end, when they used the serrated knives on her, laughing, making her taste her own blood. Finally the older angel had come and told them to stop.
No one knew what to say. Hitomi stood there with her hand covering her mouth.
A knock came at the wall, and it opened. A large male angel peeked in.
“May I enter?” he asked.
“Get the hell out of here!” Dave said, stepping between Indigo and him. “Haven't you done enough?”
He stepped into the room anyway. “Please,” he said. His closed wings drooped sadly. “I took no part in hurting her. My name is Colonel Yehppael, and I'm second in charge of the military force we have here. I hope to ask you some questions.”
Dave said nothing, just glared, and neither Hitomi nor Gramm seemed to be able to find their tongues.
“Come in,” Indigo said.
He seemed relieved. “Thank you,” he said. The wall closed behind him. The room was now uncomfortably crowded. His wing brushed against Gramm, and he flinched away in surprise, as if it had shocked him. The angel smiled apologetically. He stood in the center of the room while the others retreated to the corners.
“We'll answer your questions if you bring her some clothes,” Dave said.
“I can't overrule the edicts of the Hashmallim. Their commands are law.”
“It didn't seem that way to me,” Gramm muttered.
“Then you misinterpreted. They are our commanders.”
“Then these Hashmallim suck,” Dave said.
A bit of color rose in Yehppael's cheeks, but the angel didn't seem angry. “You should be grateful. If the Hashmallim hadn't intervened, you'd all be dead now. Per chance you weren't watching, they called for your blood in the cabinet meeting.”
“Well, Colonel,” Indigo said, “what would you like to know?”
He appeared genuinely pleased. “Tell me about your world. What is it called? How many of there are you? Do you have war?”
“Are you saying you've never had someone tell you about Earth before?” Dave asked, his voice still full of belligerence. “Why the sudden interest?”
Yehppael laughed. It was more of a snort, but his mirth was evident. “Do you believe humans come from only one world? There are a billion of them. And at least one beacon pyramid has been built for each. Usually much more as their populations grow.”
That revelation seemed to stun both Dave and Gramm. Did it surprise her? It didn't seem to. She sighed, adjusting in the uncomfortable cot. Nothing surprised her anymore.
“Geez, how big is this place?” Dave asked. “You must have people all over! Do they all look like us?”
“Angels far outnumber the humans. Or they did. And they mostly look the same, with a few differences speckling the population.”
Gramm shook his head. “Amazing,” he said.
Dave leaned forward. “You're saying there's a billion worlds, all with thousands of people dying a day, which adds up to trillions a day, and the angels still ‘far outnumber’ them. That's insane.”
The angel averted his eyes. “In your tale, you spoke of a beach so deep it covered the entire beacon, all the way to the apex. The beach stretched beyond the realm of your vision.”
Dave nodded. “Yeah, but what does...”
“That place is not a beach, but a cemetery. Each grain is an angel fallen in battle. Why the sand collects there is unknown, but the wind carries it to that place.” He looked at each of them, a deep sadness etched into his features. “Most of those I called friend are buried there.”
Dave slowly slid down the wall to the floor. “Holy shit.”
Indigo was staggered. She sat up from her cot in surprise. Immediately she remembered throwing the holographic angel in the sand, and its reaction. It had demanded to be let out, but she refused. She had stepped on the sand, sunk into it, let it slip through her fingers like water. She felt like she was going to throw up.
“How ... what happened?” she asked.
“That is not a story I wish to tell. Not now. But you will learn, and you'll forever curse the moment it is told to you. It will fester in your ears and disease your entire soul.”
Gramm was suddenly on his knees. He was dry heaving onto the stone ground.
The angel watched him, suddenly emotionless. Hitomi moved forward and rubbed Gramm's back.
“Please,” Yehppael said. “Tell me about your world. Tell me about your trees, your oceans, your birds.”
Remarkably, Hitomi spoke. She sat in the corner and talked for a long time, describing everything from butterflies to elephants to the tsunami, earthquakes, and volcanoes of Japan. She had a certain passion about her, especially when she spoke of things like nature and animals, something Indigo hadn't noticed before. With her almost emotionless personality, this hidden aspect of her was strange and perplexing.
The angel sat on the floor, hugging his knees with his eyes closed as she told her tale. The wisps of his closed wings waved like tattered sheets in a slight breeze. Indigo thought he had fallen asleep a few times, but he would sometimes ask simple questions. As if he was imagining himself there.
“What an amazing place,” he said when she was finished. He closed his eyes again and inhaled deeply. His arms bristled with power and sinew.
“Why do the angels hate us?” Dave asked.
Yehppael's eyes snapped open, as if he had been jolted awake. The dreamy look was gone. “It's complicated. And not all of us feel the same.”
Dave persisted. “I would like to know why.”
Yehppael sighed, standing up. He straightened his armor. “Like I said, it's a long and tangled story.”
Dave just looked at him, awaiting an answer.
“I would like to know that myself,” Gramm said.
Hitomi nodded.
“Very well. I shall give you a succinct version, for I have much duty to attend to.” He eyed the wall, as if afraid someone might come in.
“Humans are relatively new to this world, and most of us can remember when you were first brought into existence. To us, you were just a light in a glass globe, another one of His experiments. You were never meant to grow or have intelligence. But in time you did grow, and you evolved. And not just in isolated cases, but in a billion of the tiny worlds human populations thrived.
“He decided not to terminate you like so many wanted. Instead He had a plan. To bring you into this world, our world when you died. He commanded we build the beacons, the giant pyramids. One for each world at first. They were placed on the outskirts of our world. How they work is unknown to me, but once a soul was released, it came to the beacon tuned to your particular world.
“New castes of angels were created simply to deal with the humans and their worlds. One of these strains, the Virtues, were considered even higher than the Powers. We had to build cities for these humans, cater to them. Even then, when the humans were few, many had become uneasy with this new arrangement.
“After the humans came, the demons began to raid our world. Many believe it to be more than a coincidence. Our ancient duty was resurrected, and we once again found ourselves constantly throwing back assaults.
“We begged Him to destroy the Sphere which held your world, but He would not. Instead, He began to speak of another world that would someday hold us all. There would be no more castes, no more war. Everyone, everything would be equal.
“We were astonished and betrayed. The humans would be our equals? They huddled and cowered at the sight of a single Dahhak while we dove headfirst into b
attle to defend them. Many of their worlds had self-destructed in their hands. Some of the especially distraught angels revolted. And though I didn't want to, as I was sympathetic to their cause, I was forced to fight against my own brothers and sisters. After a terrible war, we cast the traitors out.
“Soon after, He abandoned us. He left to create this new world, but He has been gone long enough that many believe He will never return. Though most remain faithful, and even observe the old customs, like placing a chair for Him at all gatherings, many waver in their faith. And when they see humans such as yourselves, many have difficulty holding back their venom. For it is your fault, they believe. It is because of your kind this fate has befallen us.”
Indigo tried to absorb all of it. It was just too much. She closed her eyes.
“How did you come here in these caves?” Dave asked, almost breathless.
“Before a battle, several rally points are determined by the war computers. These caves were one of them. Underground. Easy to conceal. An insignificant engineering post was already here, but it was never completely built. A transport had been evacuating the engineers out in the field, but their ship had been shot down while attempting to pick up the workers here, stranding them all. Some of the others you'll see are Powers from various squads that had come to this rally point to regroup. I was protecting the Hashmallim's convoy when we were shot down.
“We've scavenged parts, and we've created an excellent defense, radar, and communication system. That was also how you were initially apprehended. The helmet under which you took shelter houses one of many underground defense mechanisms, and we couldn't allow you to remain there. If the demons had successfully tracked you, they may have discovered the defense battery.”
Yehppael opened the entrance to the chamber. “There is much more to tell, of course. But I must be on my way.” He looked at Indigo. “Your injuries will heal. All except for the scar on your face. Shoal blood scars even humans permanently. I'll speak with the Hashmallim, perhaps arrange for clothes to be given to you that'll offer protection yet still show evidence of your crime.”
“Wait,” Indigo said.
He paused.
“I want to hear about those angels like me. Those who became human.”
He narrowed his eyes, but said nothing. He left, closing the wall behind him, locking them in. They all looked at each other, no one saying anything. She pulled Dave's cloak around herself tightly, suddenly very cold.
* * * *
Yehppael went straight to his chamber and recorded everything in his journal. The humans fascinated him, especially their lush worlds. Before The Fall he often went to the Athenaeum, where the Sphere was on display. But he could only study the worlds using the scope.
He would often watch jealously as the Virtues absorbed into the human universe. Oh to visit those places! Any of the worlds, even the ones that were dead. Just to be able to see someplace new.
He had an intense thirst for knowledge of different worlds. He would often quiz humans on their homelands if they were willing to speak with him. He recorded everything he could. The upper chambers of the Athenaeum held volumes upon volumes about each of the human worlds, but only the upper castes were allowed access. So he was writing his own book, and he would make it available to everyone.
If anyone is left alive to read it.
These humans were the first he had seen in many cycles. And what a wonderful world they came from! Such variety of animals and cultures. They even looked different from each other, which was rare. And to think they could possibly be the ones. The ones who could save them all.
The door to his chamber opened and Tamael stormed in. She was in a foul mood, and she thrust her helmet across the room. It clattered loudly against the wall.
“The soldiers are not happy,” she said. Her fiery hair swept before her eyes.
He stood from his desk and pulled her into a deep hug. She held onto him fervently. Wisps of their wings entangled, and he pulled some of the dark energy from her, bringing it into himself. She squeezed him gratefully.
“They are never happy,” he said.
“The humans are dropping the morale like a blackened soul,” she said, her voice muffled by his armor.
“They seemed to be enraptured by the humans’ tale.”
“A lie they say now.”
“They are telling the truth,” Yehppael said.
She pulled back. “How do you know?”
“I can sense it.”
She nodded thoughtfully. He knew she trusted his senses, especially when it came to humans. They often disagreed over their attitudes toward the species, but she was aware that he knew humans better than any of their caste.
“Many are asking to disobey the Hashmallim,” she said. “To kill the traitor.”
That was disturbing. As much as Yehppael was repulsed by the caste system of the angels, the military chain of command couldn't waver. Not now.
Tamael was searching for guidance. She would never directly ask. He was merely second in command. A few hundred Powers, and six thousand common angels, mostly engineers. And most of those had never lifted a weapon in anger. They were exceptionally good at what they did—which was build and design things. But when it came to actual battle, they were untested. And the stress of that knowledge weighed heavily on them.
“Second only to the Hashmallim,” he said, “you are our leader. It is by your example they follow. We can't allow a revolt. It would be our undoing.”
“Do you think the prophecies are real?”
“I don't know,” he admitted. “The Hashmallim believe in them. And the periscepters are real, and many were skeptical of their existence. And if they believe the girl is an integral part of the prophecy, it would be pragmatic for us all to do the same.”
She stretched out on the low resting perch. “I haven't the intelligence or patience for this type of leadership,” she said. “I wasn't bred for it.”
“We never expected we'd end up living in a hole in the ground, either. Hiding like rodents. If the prophecy is true, and if these humans are the ones spoken of, and if they succeed, we'll finally be free.”
“That's too many ifs,” she said.
“If you can't keep the soldiers in line, we'll never know.”
She sighed. “Very true.”
She abruptly jumped up and headed for the door, an unheard radio request buzzing in her ear. A leader's work was never done, he thought ruefully.
“Follow me to the command center.”
“The assault team?”
“Yes. They've located the Dahhak and the human. He's been taken to one of their blasted temples.”
He quickly grabbed Tamael's helmet and shoved it into her arms. She always carried it with her. He hadn't known her before the attack, but he sensed whatever had happened had changed her dramatically. She was always on the alert, and her helmet was always within arms reach. On the rare occasions she was without it, she seemed preoccupied and ineffective as a leader, as if mulling over the fact it was out of her sight.
“A temple? And we're still going through with the raid?”
“The Hashmallim have ordered the return of the periscepters. And the human.” She spoke sharply into her radio then looked back up. “I don't see how we can avoid it.”
“At least let us do it right. I can have a force assembled and on their way in an hour. This is just twenty-four soldiers. Engineers.”
“We don't have time.”
“This is a Temple. It's suicide.”
“The Hashmallim have issued their orders. Like you said, we must follow them.”
He sighed. A strange sadness always crept up on him when he was about to do battle. Especially when he wasn't actually in the fray, but commanding it from afar, out of danger. Every wound, every death, whether it be enemy or comrade, hurt him like a physical blow.
“Let's go,” he said.
The Temple of Moloch
Rico dreamt he was flying.
Bu
t when he awakened, he realized with terror he actually was flying. He was several hundred feet in the sky, clutched to the chest of the demon. His forehead throbbed, and it felt like it had been caved in with a damn sledgehammer. The demon's strong arm pinned him against its chest. He dared not struggle in fear of being dropped. The creature stunk like chorizo gone bad, and he had to swallow hard to keep from throwing up.
Oh Jesus. He wanted to scream. Hitomi had been right all along. This was no heaven, but someplace much, much worse. A world of demons.
His left arm was free, and he slowly rubbed his head. The bone was tender to the touch, and he wondered if it had been smashed in. He remembered the thing flying right at him, but after that everything was a blank. Why does this always happen to me?
Maybe he was the only one still alive. Maybe the things had offed the others. But why keep him? Why was he so special?
The demon sensed he was awake and tightened its grip, making it so it was hard to breathe, despite the protection of his suit. It said something in a harsh, deep-throated language, and Rico couldn't understand a single word.
What can I do? He was desperate, and he even considered trying to twist out of the demon's clutch just so he would be dropped. But he remained frozen like a coward.
The periscepters. He had two in his pack, and he might be able to get his hands on one. If Hitomi and Indigo could get a light out of theirs, surely he could manage a killing burst on this thing.
He twisted his arm, slipping it between his back and the creature. It was awkward, but his fingers brushed against one of the black weapons. He prayed the monster wouldn't figure out what he was doing.
He slowly pulled the light from the pack as if it were a live grenade. He didn't want to drop it, but he didn't want it to go off prematurely.
They flew above a field of grass, green blades whipping like knives in the breeze. Bones and crashed, blown-apart vehicles dotted the fields. The massive fleshy wings of the beast beat fast, and it was grunting with the effort of carrying him.
“I hope you have a heart attack,” he grumbled. The demon squeezed him in response. His chest filled with pain.
The Shivered Sky Page 10