Pantheocide

by Stuart Slade

  “Oh no.” Maion put her hand to her mouth.

  “So be careful. Where are you going?”

  “My patron Lemuel has asked me to his palace for our evening meal and to listen to reverential music.”

  Yeah right little one. And the music in question will you be going ohhh-ohhh-ohhh. “That is a great honor. You have done well Maion. Now, I have one of my patrons waiting and he has been a bad, bad archangel. Enjoy your evening.”

  Maion watched Leilah disappear into the main body of the Club, stopping only to speak quickly with one of the messengers. Then, she took a deep breath, put her hand on one of the walls of the maze as she had been taught and started to walk out. All she had to do was to keep that hand on that wall until she came to the landmark when she would put the other hand on the other wall. And that would lead her out. As indeed it did.

  The clear white light on the street was much brighter than she remembered from before her days in the Club. It hurt her eyes and she was afraid that it would make them water and that would spoil her makeup. Still, she was out of the Club, walking on the streets in a way she had thought she never would again. Once she had blamed Michael for what had happened to her but no more. It was her fault that she had been inside for so long, if she had worked harder in the club and been more agreeable in her earlier days, she would have found her patron sooner. She had brought her problems on herself, she understood that now. Michael-Lan had been kind to stand by her, just as she knew he always would.

  She paused quickly to orientate herself and set off down the Boulevard that would take her to Lemuel’s palace. She had briefly contemplated taking a chariot to carry her there but her mind, still not quite used to her new status, had rebelled at the expense. It wasn’t as if the distance was very great or that one got dirty walking on the streets of the Eternal City. In any case, the walk would be good exercise and she appreciated the chance to look around. One thing that struck her was the way the other female angels on the street looked at her. Curiously, as if she was some strange creature. Some with envy, some with jealousy, a few with outright hate. Stealthily, she stole another glance into a great sheet of precious stone that reflected the street scene in front of it. She couldn’t see why she was the object of interest, she was more attractive than the other female angels, but that was due to her makeup, not any fineness of features or symmetry of face. She was a bit better dressed than most and her jewelry was better, that was all. So jealousy and dislike? Quite inexplicable.

  Maion became aware of something else as she walked down the street. There was an air of fear around. That wasn’t quite right, it wasn’t fear so much as tension, perhaps apprehension. People were on their guard, ready to take cover if there should be a sudden blast. But, there was more to it than that. With a degree of shock Maion realized that they were also watching each other, wondering if the angel next to them was the informer whose word could cause them to be whisked away to an unknown fate. As her appreciation of the situation sank in, Maion found herself wanting to be back in the safety of the Montmartre Club.

  Ironically, it was probably the realization that the Eternal City was no longer the safe, trusting place it had once been that caused Maion to drop what little guard she had up. She started to hurry along the street, passing the ruin that had once been a temple before it had been bombed. Very conveniently bombed because that was where the ambush came. It was swift, sure and certain. Maion felt a heavy cloth being thrown over her head and strong arms wrapped around her waist. The attack was so unexpected and so unprecedented that her first reaction was to think that her hairstyle would be ruined and her make-up smeared. By the time she realized that she was genuinely in serious danger, her arms and wings were pinned and she was being dragged into the ruined temple. She felt herself smothering in the heavy folds of the cloth and tried to fight her way clear but the grip holding her was too strong. Then, she felt the gentle temperate warmth of Heaven replaced by a bitter, piercing cold. Even choking in the folds of the hood over her head, the icy cold took her breath away but it only lasted for an instant before she could feel herself back in Heaven.

  Maion tried to kick out but a heavy blow to her stomach left her gasping and another to the back of her neck sent her sprawling to the floor. Then, she was dragged along a stone-floored passageway and thrown through a door. The cloth over her head was pulled away but before she could look around, the door was slammed behind her. She was in a tiny room, one so small she couldn’t even stretch her wings out fully. It was painted white but the only light was a single dim patch in the ceiling. Even as she watched, something was drawn across it so she was left in complete darkness.

  Slums, The Eternal City, Heaven

  “We have got her, Mighty Lord. Just a few minutes ago as you ordered. She was picked up on the road to the Palace of Lemuel and taken to a holding place in another part of the city, by way of the staging place in Antarctica, just as you ordered. Now, she is secure in one of our cells there.” Qaphsiel-Lan-Shekinah sounded inordinately proud of himself.

  “Was she hurt?” Michael-Lan asked the question tersely. The plot was under way and there was now no turning back. Uneasily, he remembered that long, long ago, another of Yahweh’s primary Lieutenants, his own brother in fact, had also tried to stage a coup. And failed. But we were different people then. Yahweh wasn’t the power-mad fool he is today, Satan was still alive and I was still bedazzled by the wonders Yahweh had created. And we did not have the humans to teach us how to stage coups properly.

  “A little, Mighty Lord. She fought us when we got back from Antarctica so my men struck her in the stomach and again on the back of the head. Hard enough to subdue her. Now she is locked away, in complete darkness and silence. Like Onniel.”

  “Darkness and silence will be adequate for Onniel. They will make her pliant. But Maion is to be well-treated. Allow her light and let those guarding her speak with her. Feed her well, ask her what food she would like and if possible get it for her. She must remember she was violently abducted but well-treated once in your hands. Above all though, she is to see the faces of nobody else.”

  “Your words are our commands, Mighty Lord. All will be as you say.”

  They had damned well better be “Where are the prisoners being held?”

  Qaphsiel-Lan-Shekinah gave Michael the location he had chosen. Michael-Lan took mental note of it and then took the next vital step. “You must guard that location well. Move all your people there and wait for my word. It will not be long in coming. Now, I have an urgent appointment. Get to the holding area and wait.”

  Lemuel’s Home, Eternal City, Heaven

  Michael-Lan looked at Lemuel and felt distinctly guilty. Not because he knew Maion was now sitting in a prison cell, held captive by terrorists but because he hadn’t arranged for his friend to throw Onniel out and be provided with a new mate earlier. Lemuel was looking almost childishly happy as he and Michael looked through the League of Holy Court intelligence on the bombings hat continued to rock the Eternal City. Every so often, he kept sneaking a look at the time, as if he was counting the minutes until Maion arrived. In the end, his looks were so obvious that Michael reached out and shielded the time from him.

  “She is that good my old friend?”

  “She is, Michael. She makes me feel young and wanted. She looks after me and devotes herself to me. I would have her as mate were it not for her lowly status.”

  “That can be changed you know. Many of the most loyal,” to me of course “will see their status raised after this is all over. So many of high status have been killed or found guilty of treason there will be many promotions to take their place. You, my old friend, will become Chayot Ha Kodesh if it is in my power to grant this. And your friend Mary, she is Hashmallim?”

  “Maion, Michael. And she is only Malakhim.”

  “No matter, in fact it would make things easier for raising a Malakhim is certainly within my power. Let me see now, an Erelim would be about right I think.” Erelim meaning
valiant and courageous. If, after all this is finished, anybody dare argue that title for Maion, they will have me to answer to for never will a title have been more deserved.

  “Maion? An Erelim? I don’t know what to say. Michael, that would be suitable even if I became Chayot Ha Kodesh.”

  “There we are then. See, such problems are easily solved. I wish these bombings were so easily unraveled.”

  “They have the League at a loss Michael-Lan. Every time we think we see a pattern forming, it dissolves before my eyes.”

  Of course it does Lemuel. The information is brought to me and I make sure the next wave of attacks contradicts that pattern. It really does help when those charged with countering a plot are those who are behind it. “This is most confusing, I will tell you Lemuel, there is a powerful mind behind this, one who has seen human tactics at work and adapted them to our environment here in Heaven. A powerful mind indeed.”

  “Could it be … Azrael?” Lemuel’s voice was hushed, even as an Ophanim it was a major thing to name one of the Chayot Ha Kodesh has the mind behind the outbreak of terrorism in the Eternal City.

  “Personally, I wouldn’t have thought him equal to this and he did well in the attack on New York. It needs a greater mind somehow … … ” Come on, old friend, take the bait.

  “But there is only one mind greater than a Chayot Ha Kodesh. That would be . .…… ” The immensity of the blasphemy he had been about to commit struck Lemuel dumb.

  “You are right of course. Anything else is unimaginable. It must be Azrael, Perhaps we will get the evidence we need soon.”

  As they spoke, Michael watched the shadows of evening lengthen and Lemuel get agitated. He passed from excitement at her coming through irritation at her lateness and then to worry about her safety. Eventually he decided it was time to act. “Lemuel, old friend, something is seriously wrong isn’t it?”

  “Maion is never late. If she says a time she is there on the beat. Never a second late.”

  I know, Charmeine spoke highly of her qualities of punctuality. “Then we had better go looking for her. If she arrives here, your staff will look after her well I am sure. We will go out to meet her. Perhaps her work held her up.” Which is why, the first thing I am going to do is get telephones installed in Heaven. I’d love to have my Iphone work up here. All those apps.

  “Zahuliel-Lan-Lemuel? Hear me. The Mighty Lord Michael-Lan and I are going out to look for the lady Maion. If she arrives here, make her welcome until we will return.”

  “I hear and obey, Most Noble Ophanim.”

  Michael and Lemuel inflated their flight sacs and took off, flying slowly down the main street away from Lemuel’s Palace.”

  “Which way will she be coming old friend?”

  “Along this street, I am sure.”

  So am I. Or she was. Below them, an officer of the League of Holy Court noted the two angels flying overhead and was about to rebuke them when he recognized them. Flying inside city limits was discouraged now but such restrictions did not apply to the Mighty General Michael-Lan and anybody he chose to have with him. A little further down the street, Lemuel saw a group of people clustered by a temple, one of those destroyed by a bombing. He waved for Michael’s attention and back-winged to land by the group.

  “What happened here?” As a chief investigator for the League of Holy Court, his word was law and his questions were answered. Instantly. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Michael-Lan staying back and letting him do the questioning.

  “Some men grabbed a young female angel and pulled her into the ruins and then vanished.”

  “And you did nothing to aid her?” Lemuel was furious, in his mind it was obvious who the victim had been.

  “Most Noble Ophanim, we thought it was business of the League. There have been so many arrests.…”

  “You fools. The League does not arrest that way.” He pulled a small painting of Maion from a pocket of his robes. “Was this her?”

  “It was, Most Noble Ophanim.”

  “We’d better get back to your palace Lemuel.” Michael spoke quietly. “There may be word there. This could all be a foolish misunderstanding or an error of identity. We had better get to work clearing it up.”

  The flight back was fast and Lemuel tore through his palace, in case Maion had arrived. But Zahuliel-Lan-Lemuel told him that nothing had been heard of her. By the time he got back, Michael-Lan was holding a scroll in his hands. “This was on your steps Lemuel. Perhaps you had better see what it is.” Because I already know.

  Lemuel tore the scroll open. Two bloodstained white wing feathers fell out as he read the terse note within.

  “What does it say old friend?”

  “It is from The League of Divine Justice. They say they have taken Maion captive and unless we release all the political prisoners by noon tomorrow, they will start to send her back, piece by piece. Starting with her nose.”

  Lemuel was shaking, almost on the verge of tears. Michael strode over to him and wrapped an arm around his shoulders. “Don’t worry old friend. I won’t let that happen. I have people who can work miracles in this sort of situation and they’ll find Maion for us.”

  “Who can work miracles beyond those of the Chayot Ha Kodesh Michael?”

  “Humans.”

  Chapter Fifty Nine

  Lemuel’s Home, Eternal City, Heaven

  “Is there any word of Maion yet.” Lemuel paced backwards and forwards, marking the hours as they crawled by. “Time is running out.”

  “Don’t sweat it old friend. I told you that I would allow nothing to happen to your beloved.”

  “But we have no idea where she is. How can we rescue her when we don’t know where she is.”

  Because I do know exactly where she is, dummy. The only real problem is that I can’t tell you that I know where she is so we’re going to have to find out another way. Of course, knowing the answer always helps to solve any problem.

  “We find out. We’ve used up all our resources and got nowhere. So, we call on people whose abilities are far beyond ours and who never stop asking questions. As I told you, humans. In particular, somebody who does work for me. Johann Carl Friedrich Gauss.”

  “He is a great warrior?” Lemuel didn’t sound that hopeful.

  “No, he keeps my household books in order.”

  “A book-keeper. Michael, we don’t have time for your jokes.”

  “Yes, my book-keeper and arguably the greatest mathematician who ever lived. That’s what we need now.” Michael-Lan stopped and raised his voice. “Johann? Have you got all the information you need.”

  The human who came in was an inoffensive-looking man struggling with a great pile of scrolls. He barely made it to a table before losing his grip on them and sending them cascading over the floor. Looking at the chaos he sighed, muttered some words under his breath and started to gather them all up again. Watching the display, Lemuel nearly burst into tears. Then, the human peered owlishly at Michael. “I have everything I need, yes. All these maps, the Eternal City is so much larger than I thought. But I have them all.”

  “So, where is Maion likely to be held?” Michael-Lan was entranced, he’d always thought Gauss was a humorless old stick but the man was putting on a spectacular display of eccentricity.

  “Maion. Maion? Oh yes, the angel who disappeared.” He started scrambling through the scrolls again. “Here we are, she vanished from here did she not? Ah yes, the sight of an earlier bombing, that is very important. It allows us to use recursive analysis you see, with an asymptotic expansion to truncate the series. Now, any real number is said to be computable when there is a computable sequence converges effectively to it. So, with the abduction taking place at the same point as the bombing, we have our convergence point. This is very fortunate for a coincidence of position between these two coordinates allows us to modulate any desired level of accuracy. You follow me so far?”

  Michael-Lan kept quiet, but Lemuel charged in with colors flying. “I foll
ow you, yes.”

  “Well, you will understand than that a recursive natural number has an inherent error function that indicates exactly how far through the sequence of data we must progress in order to guarantee that the sequence has converged with the desired level of precision. Now, all the bombings over the last few weeks give us an exemplary data set. I assume that you realize that any real number which happens to be rational is, on this definition, straightforwardly computable, but not every computable real need be rational? And from this it follows naturally that by plotting the positions of the bombings, we can calculate the convergence point at which the command facility must be located.”

  “Of course.” Lemuel tried to stop his eyes rotating in circles while the mathematical theory flowed around him.

  “Very well then. Intuitively, a real number is computable if it can be approximated to an arbitrary degree of accuracy by an algorithmic method. By doing so, we create a series of paralexic synchronizations that define the intersection of the calculus and geometry of the statistical universe. Within those amphibolic subluxations, the set of all computable real and definable locations are intimately related to a set of rational conclusions that are, of course only denumerably infinite, while the set of all real locations is uncountably infinite. Since all real locations are either computable or noncomputable, this means that ‘most’ locations are noncomputable and can therefore be discarded from the calculations. Thus eliminating the noncomputable from the denumerably infinite we are left with only the computably rational. In fact, as is always the case with such non-metachorindal data sets, there is only one possible location that fits both the statistical universe and the paralexic homeomorphism. The young angel must, mathematically, be here.” Gauss put his finger decisively on one of the scrolls, exactly where Michael had told him to put it.