In The Lap Of The Gods

by John B. Hendricks

  “If I’m the leader,” Absalom said. “This mission is in a boatload of trouble. What now, Belphegor?”

  “I talk with fellow demons briefly,” Belphegor whispered conspiratorially. “Lucifer came through not long ago. He had crew of Norse Gods and Cerberus. Went right through main gate by office. Lilith watched him and laughed much.”

  “Cerberus!” Fat Boy exclaimed. “The Giant Hound of Hell.”

  “Maybe we can follow his giant hound droppings and find them,” Solly suggested half-heartedly.

  “Belphegor, I don’t understand,” Absalom said. “Are you telling me there’s more to Hell than this? Is there something beyond the fiery pits and the torment?”

  Belphegor cackled and led them through the maze of underground tunnels where the extra instruments of torture were repaired and stored. They followed him up a flight of steps that seemed to stretch endlessly into nothing. Finally, they reached a foyer that was filled with a warm red glow. Belphegor bowed to them, pushed down the handles of the double doors, and opened them. Bright sunshine and the fresh smell of daffodils poured into their eyes and noses. They squinted into the sunshine. In the distance, a giant city gleamed like a cubic zirconium.

  “Welcome,” Belphegor said to the incredulous crew, “to the Hub.”

  Chapter 73[73]

  Jehovah was thinking deep thoughts.

  The situation that had been dropped into his lap was coming together nicely. Absalom and his crew were going to try to stop Lucifer from destroying all the people of the Earth by chaining him up and smothering him with love and hoping for a change of heart. Jehovah doubted that the crew would even catch up with Lucifer since he had way too much of a head start, much less wrap the fallen angel up and convince him to call off the attack. Regardless, even if the mission was a success and Lucifer called off his dogs, Jehovah would break his terrible swift sword out of mothballs, gather up his angelic host, and insist that the Remusians finish the job of eradicating his errant creation. Then he would put all the Remusians to the sword and go back to Heaven to get to work on Mankind Part Two: The Always Praising Race.

  He had all the angles covered. Synchronicity was boxed in a corner. Checkmate.

  Elijah and Enoch were still murmuring in the kitchen, so he got up off the couch and went to speak with them.

  “Gentlemen,” Jehovah announced. “My sojourn here on Earth is at an end. I’m gathering up my stuff and going back to work. It’s time for me to get back to what I so love, the creating game.” He looked at the prophets, who had not batted an eye. “Is this on the clipboard or something?” Jehovah asked. “I personally find this to be rather important news not to garnish any reaction.”

  “No, it’s quite unexpected as far as prophecy goes,” Elijah said. “But not unexpected since you gave your stamp of approval to that hare-brained scheme those poor innocent people came up with. I won’t even bother you with the odds I calculated.”

  “They’ve got a long shot,” Jehovah admitted. “But with the proper amount of work dedication, I think they can do it.”

  “What intrigues us,” Enoch said. “Is why you’re not jumping in on this yourself. You could gather up some enforcers and take care of this in a heartbeat. The question is why you won’t?”

  Jehovah said. “I’m giving Mankind, in the person of those three great heroes, an opportunity to save itself. People have thought for years that they can get by without an overarching deity, so now it’s time to find out if it’s true or false. You can look at it as the world’s biggest social experiment.”

  Both of the prophets nodded.

  “I’m heading back now. Could I interest you two in returning with me? You’ve been loyal and faithful servants and I like to reward those behaviors.”

  “We’re just going to ride this out,” Elijah said. “Once the Earth is cleared of people, we’ll see. Do you have any future plans for more people?”

  “Not at this time,” Jehovah said. “Once mankind is gone, I think I’ll try a new paradigm. Maybe come up with an intelligent lizard of some sort, you know, like the Gorn from that Star Trek episode where Kirk has to fight to save his ship and ends up shooting him with the makeshift cannon.” They looked at him blankly.

  “We preferred Star Trek: The Next Generation,” Enoch said. “It was less hokey.”

  Jehovah shook his head, grabbed up his brown satchel and left.

  The two old friends sat quietly for a few minutes, enjoying the silence while they could. Elijah looked at Enoch. “What makes you so sure I’m wrong?”

  “You’re not the only one that gets inside information on occasion,” Enoch replied.

  “I hate secrets,” Elijah said. He reached over and turned the television off. “Since we don’t have a lot of time, why don’t you make us some of that barbecue like you used to? I swear, it’s the best stuff I have ever tasted that came off a pig.”

  “I thought you were reverting back to kosher in honor of the pending end of the world activities?”

  “At this point, I don’t think it’s going to make a damn bit of difference,” Elijah said, his mouth watering at the thought of Enoch’s Special Sauce Short Ribs.

  Enoch got up and pulled a long papyrus notebook out of the kitchen drawer. “Mild or spicy?” he asked.

  Chapter 74[74]

  Jehovah was surprised and angered that St. Peter had abandoned his post. The Pearly Gate was clanking in the breeze, the lock ripped from it. He pushed it open and heard it slam closed behind him like a cheap screen-door as he walked into the City of God.

  Someone had sarcastically scattered a million tumbleweeds around and had turned the wind machine on to enhance the effect. Jehovah understood the joke, but didn’t appreciate it one iota. He made it to the Babel Tower and rode the elevator up to his office.

  He saw that the old man Solly had picked up the cup from the restaurant where the Last Supper had taken place. All the apostles had taken their cups like a bunch of frat-boys. Unfortunately, Judas had ratted them out to the Roman Guard and told the praetor that Jehovah was the ringleader. Busted over a souvenir cup, Jehovah thought. He sat down at his desk.

  He cleared the last query about a Mrs. Goldstein and got a status report. No one had been admitted to Heaven since 1256 ACE. Apparently, his angels had given up and probably blocked off the entrance down at Abraham’s Bosom and just let the dead go directly to Hell. That was good. As the Remusians continued clearing the Earth, he didn’t have to bother with the possible rush of souls that would pass the Sin-O-Meter’s criteria test. There were tons of Buddhists these days and he wasn’t in the mood to explain to them that this was the final stop and nobody was reincarnating in the near future.

  He went to the side office where all of his blueprints were. He tacked the Mankind set up on the cork board and started sketching some new ideas he had. “The brain needs some rewiring,” he said aloud, looking at the schematic. “Goodbye free will,” he laughed, using his marker like a scalpel on the drawing.

  “So, you finally came back.”

  Jehovah looked up and saw Raphael in the doorway. He took the marker cap out of his mouth and smiled. “Raphael. It is so good to see you again.” He pointed to the blueprint. “We’re getting ready to start the Mankind Project Part II. You can get in on the ground floor and be my number two.”

  “Doubtful, considering what happened to the original number two,” Raphael said. “Besides, I’m still working with Mankind Project Part One.” He held up his trumpet. “Or have you forgotten the significance of this?”

  Jehovah gazed at him. “Are you telling me that you haven’t blown that thing yet? What in the green hills of Earth are you waiting for?”

  Raphael scratched under his arm with the horn. “A long time ago, I asked you when I would know if to blow this thing. You said to me, and I quote. ‘You won’t. I’ll let you know. You are the harbinger. I am the Creator.’”

  “Well, maybe I said that,” Jehovah said, “but I was referring to signs, of course.
Aren’t aliens attacking the Earth a pretty apparent sign?”

  “Obvious to you,” Raphael said, “but I’m still waiting for the direct word.”

  “I knew I should have given this task to Gabriel,” Jehovah muttered. “You are just too damned literal minded. Can’t you take a little initiative, maybe think more metaphorically?”

  Raphael shook his head in the negative.

  “Okay, I command you to go blow your horn. Make it good and loud. Now off with you.” Jehovah turned back to his work. He sighed and put the cap back on his marker. “Problem?”

  “A slight one,” Raphael answered. “Covenants.”

  “My word is my bond,” Jehovah said. “Depending, of course, on various possible interpretations.”

  “This one was unequivocal,” Raphael responded. “You promised never to be directly involved with the destruction of Man again. Is that one coming back to you?”

  “Now, that’s a promise you can take to the bank,” Jehovah smiled. “No doubts there.”

  Raphael raised his eyebrows. “I have a few serous doubts. I don’t recall you creating any space aliens, which means you did it on the sly and I find that to be a little sneaky. Also, of all the places in this vast universe, are you going to tell me that it is a mere coincidence that a space-faring race of planetary conquerors just happened to stumble across Earth at a time when you were wanting to start a new race of Man? What do you say to that?”

  Jehovah leaned against his desk and folded his arms. “I sent out a memo on the Remusian creation situation, so I can’t help it if you didn’t read all your email. And you’re correct; it’s no coincidence that the aliens have shown up here. This is all Lucifer’s malevolent plan to destroy Man. I have absolutely nothing to do with it.” He glanced up at the blueprints for Mankind Part Two. “Pay no attention to those plans on the board,” he said. “They’ve been there for ages.” Jehovah tucked the black magic marker serendipitously into his back pocket.

  Raphael didn’t budge an inch.

  “Okay, you’re not buying it and I can’t say that I blame you. It looks like one thing, but I want you to know it’s not as it appears.” Jehovah looked at the stern-faced angel and held his hands out. “What can I do to convince you?”

  “Lucifer’s roaming the Earth as we speak,” Raphael said. “I’ll just go find him and I’ll ask him to his face. If I get any sense from him that he’s hiding anything, I’ll just blow the horn and let the chips fall where they may.”

  “Good,” Jehovah said. “I’ll be glad to have this whole issue put to rest.”

  “But,” Raphael continued, “If I think he’s telling me the truth, I want you right by my side so we can resolve this situation immediately.” He pointed the horn at Jehovah and motioned that he should follow the angel.

  Jehovah shrugged his shoulders in acceptance and followed Raphael out of the door, his mind weighing his options. “No more angels,” he thought, crossing them off his mental list of New Earth occupants. “They’re too much of a pain in the ass.”

  Chapter 75[75]

  Firehouses had Dalmatians. The U.S. Forest Service had Smokey the Bear and Woodsy Owl. McDonald’s had Ronald.

  Hell had Cerberus, the three-headed dog.

  In better days, he had been considered a monstrous beast, his claws flaying the damned and doing a lot of barking. Demon of the pit. Spittle that was poisonous.

  These days, he just farted a lot.

  He had no interest in chewing up anybody or putting on the big scare routine. Been there, done that, as was said. Instead, Cerberus’ head lolled in a dreamy nap. Visions of Hercules, the only man that ever bested him, danced in his head. What a master he would have been for me. Almost as good as my buddy Lucifer. Sometimes he would scratch that one spot on Cerberus that would keep his leg twitching for hours. Lilith, on the other hand, was definitely not a dog person. Bitch.

  His heads snapped up and he sniffed the air. Lucifer?

  “Cerberus! Come on over here, you mangy cur!”

  Cerberus dog-grinned and loped over to his former master. “Gentleman,” Lucifer said. “Meet the best damned guard dog in the world, both nether and upper.”

  Odin stepped back in sudden fear. “Fenrir,” he whispered. “Is that you? Great Valhalla! Don’t loose this beast, Lucifer. He will join with our enemies and eat me! That’s Ragnarok in a nutshell for me. Back beast!” Odin continued backpedaling.

  “Settle down, Odin,” Lucifer said. “Cerberus was here before I got here. He’s an old pal.”

  Odin shook his head. He could read it in the beast’s yellow-tinged eyes. “You are my lunch,” the orbs whispered.

  Cerberus lolled his tongue. Hungrily, Odin thought.

  Lucifer patted Cerberus on the heads. “In addition to guarding the main gate here,” he said. “Cerberus also has an uncanny ability to track things.” He reached into his pocket and pulled out a baggie that contained several strands of hair. “One sniff of this and he’ll be on the trail until he finds Eve.” Lucifer smiled and opened the bag, waving it under Cerberus’ noses.

  “Find,” he said.

  Cerberus sniffed and sneezed loudly, a massive fart erupting from his still monstrous butt.

  “He’s got it,” Lucifer said.

  The demons cheered as Lucifer came through the main gate. “Lucifer’s back!” a minion yelled. “My prayers have been answered.” No one even called him on it. Lucifer glad-handed and backslapped his way through the crowd, Cerberus trailing him like a love struck puppy. The Aesir were wary. After all, this was HelHell. “Keep an eye out for Baldur,” Odin said. “I have to keep my eye on Mr. Three-Headed Dog. He’s still eyeing me.”

  “Fellow denizens of the bowels of Earth!” Lucifer said. “I did not come back to rule the Underworld.” The crowd started grumbling and looking at each other. “Better get back to work then before Lilith finds out.”

  “You all know of my great plan,” Lucifer continued. “Making Earth my new domain, etc. etc. However, like all great plans, Pickett’s Charge, Betamax, there have been mistakes made. There’s been treachery. But still, I persevere because, I have a dream.”

  All the Norse gods started clearing their throats and making not-too-subtle noises. They had heard this one before, many, many, many, times.

  “All my life I wanted to be a farmer,” Lucifer began. “I wanted to get away from the rat race. Come out and breathe the fresh air. Live in the sunshine and plant the little seeds in the rich brown earth, watch them push themselves up through the soil reaching up toward the blue sky and the sunshine until they become corn, and wheat and alfalfa.”

  “We never should have bought him that first season of Green Acres on DVD,” Frigga groaned.

  “Today,” Lucifer continued. “We are chasing that dream. I and my able companions, are searching for my mate, and with the help of Cerberus, we will find her.”

  “But what about us,” someone yelled. “Your ex is making our lives hell!” This bad pun was not ignored, and the originator of it was pummeled with stones.

  Lucifer quieted the crowd. “We’ve been through a lot together and I appreciate it. When this is all said and done, as Douglas MacArthur said to the people of the Philippines.” He paused dramatically. “I shall return.”

  The crowd erupted and Lucifer turned and strode for the exit stairs, the Aesir close behind him.

  Odin walked alongside Lucifer up down a sidewalk in the capital city. This was the fleshpot area of town, so Thor kept stopping and peeking in storefronts. “Just browsing,” he laughed as his wife tugged him away from a particularly lusty display.

  “Lucifer, what about Baldur?” Odin asked.

  “Hell is an awfully big place,” Lucifer said. “We can shout out his name as we go. Maybe he’ll hear us.”

  “Why not just put an ad in the newspaper,” Hermoth said sarcastically.

  “Listen,” Odin said to Lucifer. “We agreed to this quest with the understanding that finding Baldur was a priority. You’r
e blowing us off.” He poked Lucifer menacingly with Gungnir.

  “Relax,” Lucifer answered. “We’ll have to look Baldur up in the directory. It will show his residence or at the very least, which molten pit he’s thrashing around in.” Frigga looked at him sharply. The Norsemen reached for their weapons. “Theoretically, of course” Lucifer continued. “He was a great guy. I’m sure all he got was a few bamboo shoots and a little jumper cable jolting. Crikey, he’s the god of innocence, beauty, joy, purity, and peace.” Lucifer tugged at Cerberus’ chain, slowing him down. “There’s a monitor that I used at my cabana. It will get us in and we’ll find him. Trust me,” he grinned.

  “Yeah, sure,” Thor said. He was scraping devil dog poop from his boots with the handle of Mjolnir. A rumble of thunder tinkled gently. The magical device did not appreciate its current use.

  Capital City was huge. Giant minarets gave the city a Middle Eastern feel, but there were no mosques. In fact, there were no churches or synagogues either. The only thing that resembled a religious structure was the New St. Patrick’s’ Cathedral, rebuilt in its original Gothic Revival style by a group of bored architects. It was used as a combination bingo hall and fancy juke joint to make the many disgruntled Catholics feel right at home. Baptists frequented it as well, and despite they way they were raised on Earth, always used the front door.

  Lucifer held the long leash that pretended to be controlling Cerberus. The devil dog was sniffing intermittently, farting continuously, and stopping often to maybe sure everything okay in the nether regions. Each head had its own personal set of genitals to take care of, much to the bemusement of the male Norse Gods, with the consensus being “Lucky Bastard.”

  “How far do we have to travel?” Frigga asked Lucifer.

  “It will take us a while,” Lucifer said. He thought about the one obstacle in the way, the thing that the locals called “the madness of Lucifer.” He hoped his companions would be able to survive it. He glanced at them. They were walking doggedly behind him, stern looks of determination on most of their faces now. Jehovah did something right with these people, he thought. I wonder why he can’t see the glory in them? You would think the pride you would get from creating these magnificent beings would be much more fulfilling than some knee-jerk adulation that Jehovah so deeply desired.