“He made his decision.”
“That’s not what I’m talking about. I can understand his decision. I can even accept it. So many people we know, people we have respected and loved, have chosen to support Lucifer. And who knows . . . ” He stopped and his voice trailed off.
Beth’s eyes clouded.
“What I don’t understand,” Luke continued, “and what makes me so angry, Beth, is how could Sam just pull up and leave, just take off like that without so much as saying goodbye? I mean, he knows, he understands how we all felt about him. He was our older brother, we loved him, and we love him still. He is one of my heroes, one of the sincerely good people in life, and yet he just slips away in the night. Tell me, Beth, does that seem like him?”
Luke’s eyes were on fire from the betrayal and anger inside. Losing a brother, especially an older brother, and one he had idolized, was new and it was painful.
“He still loves you,” Beth offered simply, cautiously. “You know that he does.”
“No, Beth, I don’t know that. At least not anymore.”
“He did what he thought was right.”
“If he did the right thing, he sure did it wrong. You don’t just abandon the people you love. It’s immature. Irresponsible. And it isn’t like him.”
“Sam is still a good person, Luke.”
“Of course he’s a good person! All of us are! But this thing, this conflict . . . it changes people. We’ve seen that already. It changes everything.”
Luke ran his fingers through his hair as a dark pain crossed his face. He sighed wearily. He did not like these feelings, and he had no experience in how to deal with them.
Elizabeth watched him as he stood in silence by the side of the pool. She seemed to want to reach out and touch him, to offer comfort if she could, but Luke turned away as she moved to his side.
“You asked me if I’m scared,” he whispered unhappily. “And I told you I wasn’t, but that wasn’t the truth. There is one thing that scares me. And it scares me to the core.
“I’m not afraid of failure. I’m not afraid for myself. I really believe that I will be all right. And so will you, Elizabeth. You are good. You are strong. You are one of the chosen. You will be called up and set apart. You will be saved for the end. There’s no doubt in my mind. You will be held back for the great scene that will take place when we get to the last days of the earth.
“But I’m scared for the others. I worry for them, Sam and his friends. We can already see what the conflict has done to them. Sometimes I worry for Ammon. He can be so headstrong. And there are others, so many others! If they don’t make it, and we lose them, we lose them forever! Forever, Beth! They will be separated forever, and that breaks my heart.
“So the concerns that I have do not rest in the plan. I have perfect faith in Jehovah. I know he will do what Father has asked him to do. He will not fail us, though some people think that he will. He will go. He will be perfect. I know he won’t sin. And he loves us enough–even those who won’t fight for him–he loves us enough to die for our sins.
“And I have faith in some of God’s children. But not everyone. Some of them have promised to help us, to stand at our side, but they are weak and might not even make it themselves.”
Beth was silent for a while. Finally she spoke, picking her words carefully. “You’re right, of course. Some are going to be lost, some of the people we love–maybe even Sam. And the battle is just getting under way. Still, Luke, there’s hope, hope for everyone. The flaw isn’t in the plan; it’s in our own weakness. The plan offers such promise!” The joy of it shone in her eyes.
“What would you do, Luke?” she went on, biting her lip. “If you don’t like what is happening, what would you propose?”
Luke clenched his jaw. “Lucifer may have his faults, I know that. He overreaches sometimes, and I certainly don’t agree with everything he says. But his way, where everyone will come back–is that such a bad thing? How could it be heaven if we leave so many of our loved ones behind? Are Sam and the others so wrong? Our leaders say Lucifer’s plan is evil, but sometimes I don’t know.”
Beth stepped back, her forehead wrinkled with worry. “Not everyone who has joined Lucifer did it for the reasons that you said,” she answered. “Many of them want power. That’s the only thing they care about. And some of them hate Jehovah. You can hear it when they talk; you can see it in their eyes. They don’t care about helping others. They aren’t like you or me. They want to defeat him, bring him down, cause him pain. So let’s not be overgenerous when we discuss Lucifer’s schemes. People follow him for many reasons, and most of them aren’t pure.”
“Do you put Sam in that category?” Luke quickly replied. “He is our brother. Is he evil too?”
Elizabeth shook her head. “I don’t know,” she said sadly. “That remains to be seen. But listen to me, Luke. I want you to think, think back on the Council when Father presented the plan. All of us were there, each and every one. We all had a chance to learn of the plan. But after the Council, when we were on our way home, do you remember what you told me? Do you remember what you said? Think of that, Luke, for I think it might be the key.”
Luke nodded slowly. “I remember,” he said.
“What did you say, Luke? What did you notice about the spirits who gathered to hear of the plan?”
“I said that everyone was there. But not everyone was listening.”
“Yes, Luke! That’s right! Everyone was there, but some people wouldn’t listen. And if they don’t listen, if they don’t follow the plan, then we can’t help them, Luke. They have to listen, make a decision, and eventually choose their course, for that’s the central part of the plan. We can’t choose for them–not you, not me, not even Jehovah or Father can. God can’t force his children to become like him. It’s something they have to want, a blessing they have to fight for and be willing to sacrifice to attain. And if they choose to follow Satan, to surrender their will, if they choose the ugliness of a path that offers no agency, then God cannot stop them, for they are free to choose.”
Luke nodded slowly. He knew that was true. But he had so many doubts. And it pained him too much to push his feelings aside. He looked up at the sky, searching for the sun through the trees, then nodded his head toward the path. “We ought to be getting back,” he said.
Elizabeth didn’t move, though she followed his eyes. “Luke,” she said gently, her eyes softer now. “Listen! This is important! I’m just like you. I have my own fears and doubts. I think everyone does. I used to be scared of the pain–the pain of birth and living in a physical world, the pain of hunger and sickness, of death or abuse, of loneliness or neglect, of all of the things that we must experience to learn. And I used to be scared . . . no, I used to be terrified of being a mother. I mean, family is the whole purpose. That’s what this whole thing is about, and I used to be terrified that I might fail, or that one of my children might die early, or that . . . ” she glanced quickly away, then continued slowly, “ . . . or that one of my children wouldn’t love me. We’ve seen how that feels.
“But I think I am beginning to understand these things and how they fit with the plan. I think I can see the big picture and how faith makes anything possible. And now the only thing I’m afraid of is that when it’s over, when it’s all said and done, when I have been to the mortal world and my earth-life is through, when I come back to the Father and sit at the feet of the Savior, I’m afraid that I won’t be able to look Him in the eye, that I won’t have earned the right to come back to Him. That is my greatest fear now, that I won’t be worthy
to come home.”
Luke held her by the shoulders and looked into her eyes. “You will be worthy,” he whispered. “I know your heart. You will eventually be like Father. You will be perfect one day.”
Beth trembled lightly as she put a hand to her lips. “I hope so,” she whispered with awful uncertainty. She was silent a moment as she stared off through the trees.
&nbs
p; “We ought to go,” Luke said. “Ammon will be leaving for the rally, and I want to talk to him before he goes.”
Elizabeth grabbed another strand of hair and twirled it nervously. “I don’t think he should go,” she said. “It isn’t right. And I think it is dangerous for him to go there alone.”
“Maybe. But he insists. I’ve tried to argue, but he won’t change his mind.” Luke stood up and moved for the trail. “Come on,” he said. “Let’s make sure we see him before he goes.”
“Luke,” she said hesitantly, “before we go, there’s something that I need to tell you.”
“What is it?” he asked quickly, knowing she had something important to say.
She took a step back, and her face brightened visibly. “I talked with Father this morning. We spent a long time together. It was so wonderful.”
Luke nodded and waited. “And . . . did he . . . ?”
“Yes. He told me my mission, Luke. He told me where I fit in the plan. And it is so . . . ” she shivered, and a sudden tear wet her eye. “It is so incredible, Luke! You won’t even believe. I’m so excited. But I’m scared! In fact, I’m terrified. It is nothing I had dreamed of, not in a million years.” She reached for his hand. “I want to tell you, Luke. I want to share everything. But He said I couldn’t tell anyone, at least not yet.”
Chapter Seven
Far to the east, away from the valiant children of God, along a wide and tree-covered trail, a group of Lucifer’s followers were walking up the side of a steep hill. The small group of men and women had been tasked to dig out a clearing on the crest of the foothill that had been identified as an ideal location for one of the many housing projects that seemed to be sprouting up everywhere. People were flooding into Lucifer’s cities, most of them recent converts to his plan, and his followers were in desperate need of dwellings to house the newcomers.
It was a bright day, but a constant overcast seemed to hang over the mountains that surrounded Lucifer’s expanding city, a mix of dust from hasty construction and soot from the fires of industry that burned constantly. The overcast didn’t block out the light entirely, however, and the shadows under the trees flickered gloomily as the branches moved with the wind. Most of the group was silent as they marched, focused as always on the task at hand.
Samuel, the oldest of the men, lagged behind the main body of the group. A young woman walked just ahead of him. She was slightly older than he was and, like all of God’s children, extremely beautiful. Because she was a newcomer, the strain of living among Lucifer’s followers had not entirely sucked the glow from her face. Her escort–all newcomers were assigned someone to assist them in the transition–walked ten feet ahead, talking solemnly with another woman, an old friend.
Sam watched the newcomer out of the corner of his eye, then picked up his pace until he reached her side. She glanced over and smiled, a hollow grin with no warmth. “How are you?” Samuel asked as he fell into step next to her.
“Fine,” she answered blankly.
“It’s going to be a busy day.” He nodded up the trail. “We’ve got a lot of work to do.”
“I don’t mind hard work. I spend all of my time inside, cooped in a cramped corner, and I’m looking forward to being outdoors.”
“Have you been here very long?”
The woman glanced around quickly. “Not too long, I guess.”
“You like it here?”
“Of course,” she answered quickly. A little too quickly, Sam thought. She glanced sideways toward him. “How about you?” she asked.
Samuel squished his face. “I haven’t been here that long. But at least I don’t need an escort.” He nodded ahead.
“No, I don’t mean how long have you been here. I mean do you like it? Are things working out for you?”
“Absolutely . . . usually. I suppose.”
They walked in silence a while. The trail became steeper. The trees began to thin out, and the shadows weakened along their path. Patches of gray and brown sky came into view through the trees. The group had spread out along the trail as they neared their destination, where the real work would begin. Reaching the top, the young people paused to regroup and rest, laying out on the grassy patches to absorb the sun. Samuel came to a stop over a fresh patch of loam. He bent at the knees and took a handful of rich mountain soil, pressing it in his hands, then letting the black earth sift through his fingers. It was soft and mulchy, so rich and full of nutrients it almost balled in his hand.
“Look at this!” he exclaimed quietly, momentarily forgetting the woman. “I could grow anything in this soil. I could make this hilltop blossom with a garden that would bring tears to your eyes.”
The young woman listened, then bent down beside him. “I don’t think this spot will ever host a garden. It will be buildings and roads.”
Sam nodded, then pushed himself up. “But we need gardens, too. And if they would let me . . . ” His voice trailed off, then became resolute, his eyes narrow and focused, his jaw set tight. “Yes, . . . of course. That’s his decision. So be it then!”
The woman looked at his dirty hands, then stood and turned to look out over the bustling valley below the ridge. The shadows were long and the new buildings were dark and tall, some shining with glass, others dully reflecting the light from their dark rock and cement façades. Turning away, she glanced again at Sam. He was staring at her. “Where did you come from?” he asked.
“Oh, you know,” she waved absently to the west.
Sam nodded. “Did you come here alone?”
“No. I came with a friend and one of my sisters. But they didn’t stay long.” She was silent for a minute, then added, “I haven’t heard from them since they left.”
Sam pressed his lips together and nodded. How many times had he heard the same thing before? She wiped a dusty hand across her face as they stood side by side.
“Can I ask you something?” he said.
“I guess so,” she replied.
“Do you believe everything that you hear over here?”
She thought a long moment. “I’m close to understanding, I think.”
“So it’s all fitting together?”
She looked at him suspiciously. “Yeah, I guess so,” she answered cautiously.
“You know, some people who choose to follow Lucifer begin to have second thoughts. I don’t know, I’ve seen lots of reasons, but the bottom line, sometimes people just change their minds. If you think that might be happening, then I think we should talk. There are some things I could tell you that will help you, I think.”
The woman didn’t answer, and Sam glanced toward her, noting the hidden look of uncertainty in her eye. She kept her head low, and Samuel studied her as they began to walk again.
He was going to have to watch her carefully. If she showed even one more sign of unbelief, he would pull her aside and have a talk.
He lowered his voice and leaned toward her. “You can trust me,” he confided, trying to gain her confidence. “I am your friend.” He patted her shoulder. “We’ll talk later.”
Chapter Eight
Flags. Thousands of them, perhaps ten thousand or more.
They waved from every pillar and column at the top of the ring; beautiful multicolored flags of black and dark green, silky and light, they fluttered in the wind, banners of power, a great call to arms. Each flag held a crescent moon over a short stubby cross, the emblem of the new party, the loyal opposition, those who were on the rise. Five enormous banners, two hundred feet square, each with the same green crescent and black cross, moved in the gentle wind from tall poles that had been erected around the huge outdoor park. The banners rippled lightly but didn’t spread out, for the wind wasn’t strong enough to unfurl them yet. But to the west, storm clouds were rising and soon would be there.
A gently sloping bowl of green grass rose in every direction, with the stage in the center and the bottom of the bowl. Ancient stone columns and arches lined the top of
the park. The c
rowd gathered in a full circle around the huge stage, which rose some fifty feet in the air. They gathered in groups as families and friends. There were children among them, but only a few, which was unusual, for normally there were many children around. Some of the participants came alone, but many brought others with them, for all were encouraged to help spread the word. Nobody knew how many people had gathered that day. It was impossible to count them; they numbered as the sands of the sea. Most of the afternoon rally had been spent with other, less well-known speakers, a few musical numbers, and a youth choir, but it was barely a warm-up, for everyone knew why the people were there.
The sun was just setting, casting long shadows eastward, when, amid a frenzy of screaming and clapping and a full-throated band–a band that played a new music, sounds that had never been heard and with a drumbeat that was odd and exciting to the crowd–the great leader finally emerged on the stage. The crowd went wild, clapping and screaming and stamping their feet. He stood and lifted his face to his followers, encouraging them as he cupped his hands to his ears, lifting his arms in a gesture of more. The crowd went wild again and a great wind suddenly blew, lifting the banners around them, flapping the light silk like another drum in the wind. The huge banners spread out, casting long shadows that flickered in the wind. Lucifer noted and pointed to the banners, as if he were surprised. The banners billowed and waved against the sky, almost blocking the sun. The crowd fell silent, in awe, then quickly whipped themselves into a frenzy again.
It must be an omen! They screamed in delight.
The wind grew more gusty as storm clouds drew near. The people roared in approval as Lucifer moved across the stage, then lifted his arms, asking for silence. The crowd howled even louder. They simply could not hold back. Thunder rolled in the distance, promising rain, the dark clouds gusting forward on the sudden, cold wind. The crowd seemed not to notice as they clapped and screamed. They had waited for this day for a very long time.
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