“They may understand it better technically, but because they are not of our prophesy, they will not be able to understand it emotionally and psychologically,” Cunning said. “They may be able to explain this to you better, though.”
“Without a doubt. Let’s get back to destroying this gamme mirror,” John said. Cunning was correct; this bothered him immensely at too many levels. A piece of him remained the simple priest of his youth, a mortal man responsible for tending a part of a tiny piece of God’s sole creation, Earth. A God of such proportions as the Fallen Angels and the Indigo revealed to him was beyond his understanding and ability to cope.
Their vision of God Almighty was just too darned big.
“Damnation! We know so little!” Satan said. John paced the minor expanse of his dusty room and stretched. His body, though slimmer and trimmer than before, suffered the ravages of being stuck in one position for too many hours while his mind had been held within the gamme. “John, what Cunning gave you is an explanation for the origin of the demons you fought on Witch Mountain so long ago. They’re from one of these other universes, not from Hell, as you thought.” Grover and Lara nodded; when he told his Witch Mountain story to them, they had said the demons didn’t sound like anything they had ever heard of from Hell.
“Do you remember the woman we spoke of, the one from another timeline, the one we named Knot?” Lara said. The afternoon light angling through the small window made the dust sparkle and illuminated the mud brick floor. And left Satan in shadow. Archetypical.
John nodded at this bit of Indigo nonsense, as timelines, as they defined them, could not be real. Both she and Grover had turned to him when John mentioned the term ‘containerverse’. This meant something to them in their science language. “In Knot’s timeline, scientists had already found a way to sense into this containerverse. They had already found the Perilous Land, using high-tech tricks, and they used that name.”
He still didn’t believe. “This is the origin of the Watcher’s tech, what you term their magic,” Grover said. John barely kept himself from barking at Grover’s insane skepticism. “They’re using domesticated Perilous Land insects and their native and natural-to-the-Perilous Land reality warping capabilities. As are you, I believe.”
John stopped his pacing, sick to his stomach. “There’s more, isn’t there?”
Satan nodded, barely visible in her dark corner of the room. “That fool Orlando’s trapped on the idea that this ‘singularity’ he fears is a near term problem. Cunning’s commentary implied thousands of years of trouble. John, the test of the Angelic Host goes far beyond the current moment and far into the post-singularity world.”
“Orlando’s no fool.”
Satan shook her head. “He sees the tree he’s about to run into, but not the forest beyond. You’re worse, Johnny boy.”
“I know, I don’t even see the tree,” he said. “You’re on to something.”
She nodded. “A something that even I quail at,” she said. “The Fallen Angels’ evil isn’t evil at the level of natural morality. It’s evil because their morality has been twisted by the challenge of their test, by the physical hazards of the Perilous Land, an evil that wouldn’t be seen as evil if pre-industrial humanity hadn’t failed the test of multiple universes. Which makes this more of a thing of incomprehensibility and inappropriateness than an evil as defined by natural morality.”
John nodded as he paced, glad something made sense. Which he had expected as soon as someone pushed this out of the realm of natural science into the familiar realm of morality. “So, if the moral choices of the Fallen Angels would have been comprehensible to us if humanity had gone the path of exploration of these other creations, then what does that say about the moral choices the 99 Gods have made and the needs of our universe?” He paced back and stood by Satan. “By that logic, the morality and choices of the 99 Gods are comprehensible only if we look at it through the prism of this singularity garbage and what may follow over the coming many thousands of years. But we can’t judge them that way, because we haven’t yet passed the test of the Angelic Host! What use is this?”
“This isn’t a single test, John,” Lara said. “That’s what this means.”
“Ah,” John said. “The City of God is one test. The plans of the Tradition Gods to balkanize the Earth’s societies to protect their cultural heritages is a second test. We’re a third test, we being the Telepaths, the Indigo and others like the Indigo, and Orlando’s boundary-pushing crew.”
“Yes,” Satan said. “They’re not either-or tests, they’re ‘how much’ tests.” She tapped her cane on the floor for emphasis with a tik tik tik. “This isn’t simple logic, this is nasty and messy and real life. You won’t like this, but there’s a name for us, you know. A name for our cause.”
“What, Bais?”
“We’re the cosmopolitans,” she said. “Our test is: how much can humanity cope with all these other ideas about what might be and what might have been? Think about it: other universes, Travelers from other timelines, Fallen Angels, magicians, Telepaths, Ha-qodeshim, Wanderers from other universes, Natural Supported, the Angelic Host, Archangels, the Indigo itself and the idea of multiple Angelic Hosts, and so on and so forth, plus all the other secrets we haven’t had time to yet figure out and properly name. Even the idea of delving into the internal makeup of the 99 Gods falls into this. Urban, modern, cultural blending, diversity, rational inquiry – it’s all in there. Where does this lead?”
“I think I know,” Grover said. He looked out the tiny window to the sky, and Lara and Satan followed suit, supporting his idea. Even John understood the hint. The last century had overflowed with endless mortal human dreams of the stars.
The stars had never been a place he had wanted to go. Not really.
“You’re right,” John said. “I don’t like this. Of course, this is nothing more than the philosophy of the Ecumenists writ large. Larger. With modern science thrown in. I’ve been following the Ecumenist philosophy, albeit reluctantly, for a millennium and I know one of their lessons when it hits me in the face.” All religions and moral systems were flawed and incomplete. Humanity needed to know more, much more, about God Almighty. God Almighty was far greater than we credit, and when one speaks of the fear of the Lord being the beginning of wisdom, this is what is meant. Blah blah blah.
“Yes. Which means the short-term answer to the 99 Gods is obvious: they must be as human as they can be now, so humanity can become as much like the 99 Gods in the future. They must lead by example because leading by example is the proper leadership style for our age and our philosophy. They must give up their divinity until humanity itself is ready to become divine.” Satan turned to Grover and Lara. They thought for a moment and nodded in agreement.
John’s eyes lit up. “That’s the answer!” He had never felt so sure about something in many generations. “Wonderful, Bais! Let’s pass this along to Orlando and…”
Satan smiled.
“Okay, what?”
“We don’t have to,” Satan said. “I just got one of the stronger hunches I’ve ever had. The Daughter of Light and the Child of Morning already figured this out. They’re already working on this and they’re already passing the lesson along as part of their Missions.”
“We’re redundant?”
That drew a frown from Satan. “No. You’ll pass this along next time you talk to them, but it’s only going to be confirmation, not anything new. Your role – and mine, with you now – is to do things.”
“Hmmph.” Her words fit, even though he still didn’t understand how the ‘darkness’ in his prophetic name implied doing things.
“They come. The attack has started,” Sorrow said. She ran her fingers deftly over John’s forehead.
John woke with a start.
“Who? What sort of attack?”
“Come,” Sorrow said. “We’ll explain.”
John stumbled out of his rope bed and followed Sorrow to where a group of Fallen A
ngels gathered in the courtyard in the center of the compound. He had slept through to late morning, the last of them to awake. The sun, far too bright, pounded heat into the sandy paving stones of the courtyard and made his head hurt. Reed, already present, conversed with Glory and Wisdom by the well. Grover and Lara held back, sweating through their shirts and glowing indigo. Today their guardian Angel, the Godslayer, was with them. She waved at John, and he waved back, attempting to ignore the completely inappropriate ‘Escher staircase’ rising into the air behind her. Satan showed up a minute later, grumpy as always in the morning.
“Tell us,” John said.
“The attacks are probes by twenty Paladins, ten each of Verona and Lodz,” Wisdom said. The Watchers, unlike the mortals in the courtyard, didn’t sweat from the heat. “So far we are confusing their minds and keeping us hidden, but our simplistic defense won’t last long. We now accept your offer.”
“Okay,” John said.
“Not you, but Satan and Reed,” Wisdom said, to John. “As Cunning told you, you, Grover and Lara are not expendable.”
“Fine,” John said. “I’m going back to bed.”
Sorrow grabbed his night-shirt. “Not so fast, Father. You may not be expendable, but you can help anyway. By putting your style of spell on those who fight. Including me.”
“Surely…”
Sorrow interrupted him. “Your magic is mortal, and has mortal advantages. You don’t want the fullness of the explanation, so in this instance bend your intransigent will and just trust me.”
He imagined more soul-draining conversations about multiple universes, the Perilous Land, and insects. Bah. “I’ll do this if you let me go back to bed,” John said.
A large wooden box of gamme floated to Reed’s feet. He opened it to find armor and weapons.
“I don’t know anything about fighting,” Reed said.
“Do you think any of the mortals of your myths did? Our gamme not only provide power, they also teach,” Glory said. “You will learn quickly.”
Or die, John finished in his own mind. “This is your choice, Reed,” John said.
“What about me?” Satan said.
“You are beyond such toys,” Wisdom said. “You only need appear and…”
Satan shook her head. “I want the gamme rod you have hidden under your bed,” she said, interrupting.
The Fallen Angels stopped in place, quiet statues.
“Come on, you actually thought you could hide something from me?” Satan said.
“Like all Telepaths, you are impossible,” Wisdom said. “I admit that gamme exists. The gamme in question is beyond evil.”
Satan spat. “Then the gamme is perfect for me, then, because I too am beyond evil.”
“Why didn’t I know about this?” John said. “If this is so bad, this gamme needs to be one of the one’s I’m working on destroying now.”
“My hunch is this gamme will be the last you destroy before the arrival of the Child of Morning,” Wisdom said. “This gamme isn’t tied to the skein of fate tying us to Earth. The gamme only needs to be destroyed because of the transcendent evil within.”
Which made no sense at all. “What was this gamme’s purpose? Or need I even ask?” John said. The Fallen Angels had done only one thing worse than evil, in his light. “Does this gamme hold the way you destroyed the now-dead Fallen Angels in your long-past war?”
Wisdom nodded. “Your insight verges on acumen. The gamme under discussion is no longer wieldable, even by us, because of the gamme’s history.”
“Bets?” John said. “Bring out the gamme. I’ll show you.”
“This ought to be fun to watch,” Satan said, sliding over to John. “You have trouble handling the nice gamme. What do you think you’re doing, Johnny boy?”
He didn’t answer. He waited until Wisdom floated out a six foot long box, six inches wide and tall. John knelt down beside it, his hands over it. “Cunning?”
“We’re going in?”
“Yes.”
“Fool.”
Sorrow put her hand on John’s shoulder, not a good sign. The hunger in Sorrow’s eyes spoke volumes.
He and Cunning appeared on a knobby rounded hill that fell off into nothingness on three sides. A great mountain, rough and broken off, blocked their way to John’s relative south. Black pits dipped on either side, beyond which were more hills.
“This is a skull,” Cunning said. “We’re the size of fleas. Or small peas.”
“Please,” John said. He worked magic to avoid thinking about Cunning word play.
“Who disturbs me?” a voice boomed out, a response to John’s spell.
“The Father of Darkness,” John said. “I bring your time of ending.”
“Never. I will fight you, as I have fought all who…”
“Do you dispute the truth?” John said, and lanced out with the magical undoing spell.
The voice screamed.
“I will still fight,” the gamme said, once the spell finished. “Such magic cannot undo me so trivially.”
“Then let me offer you a bargain,” John said. “If you slew Fallen Angels, does their essence remain within you?”
“They found oblivion in me, and I remember them. So, mortal?”
“This mortal you speak to offers to send you to God Almighty,” John said. “With you will go the essence of the dead Fallen Angels, so what remains of them can be reunited with their Creator. But only if you cooperate.”
“What cooperation do you propose? Bah; this doesn’t matter, so say nothing. No mortal can be so evil as to send me to God Almighty. I don’t believe your words. I will not cooperate.”
“You doubt my darkness?” John said. He had expected this. “I challenge you. Appear. We shall wrestle. You will see my darkness and be mastered.” He turned to Cunning and held out his hand.
“You are mad,” Cunning said, and bled ichor for John. “The Godkiller will eat your mind. This is suicide.”
“I don’t think so,” John said. “Don’t forget my uniqueness. What other mortals have lived so long and killed so many and have avoided being corrupted by their own evil?”
“I fear by your words that you have found your own corruption.”
John snorted. The gamme’s essence appeared before him as a five story tall demon made up of crawling insectoids. John turned to Cunning. “Stand back and don’t interfere.”
Cunning shook his head and stood back.
John took Cunning’s ichor, spread it thin, and covered himself.
“No!” Cunning said, too late. John grew himself to the size of the gamme’s demon and advanced.
John released his teeth from the demon’s neck and spat out insectoids. “Say the oath again,” he said.
“I surrender to your greater evil,” the gamme demon said. “Master.”
“Who do you serve now?”
“I serve the Father of Darkness. I will do as the Father of Darkness asks, in return for your word that I will be sent to God.”
“Just what I wanted to hear,” John said. He laughed at the prostrate and partly dismembered gamme demon. Anger coursed through him, and he twisted the gamme demon’s back again, causing the gamme demon to scream in agony. “This awaits you if you fail in the task I give you, and I and no other will judge whether this task is complete.” John ached, whatever it was of him that was in this gamme. The fight hadn’t been easy. John had let go many of his repressed darker urges and triumphed.
The urge to make the gamme demon pay and keep paying edged toward overwhelming. This urge he had mastered centuries ago. He ignored the desire to wallow in triumph.
“I will not disappoint,” the gamme demon said. “What is this task?”
“Your makers will soon be at war with the servants of other Gods, of a different age. You’re to be a weapon in their employ, wielded by a demi-immortal human who is empowered and backed by the Ha-qodeshim, a mortal who, like myself, has long passed beyond evil.”
The gamme demon s
creamed in toddler fury. “I am to be wielded by a lunatic Telepath? Never! Let Armageddon slay all Creation first before I serve the ever-foul Sea Monsters!”
John twisted the demon again until again the demon surrendered, screaming. “If you fail me, not only will I not send you to God Almighty, but I will destroy you with endless torture. Like this.”
John demonstrated. The gamme demon howled. John let up and the demon quieted. “Master, oh Father of Darkness, your wish is my command.”
He let the gamme demon bind itself with this ancient, clichéd but still potent magic, through its own words and John’s magic. “Good enough.”
John let the gamme demon go. He stood, walked back across the skull to Cunning and shrunk himself back to his normal size. The ichor on his body, what was left of the magic, he gathered and presented back to Cunning.
“Give this to Glory,” Cunning said, deferential to John for the first time. “She alone will appreciate such transcendent evil, great Father.”
“I see,” John said. He smiled. Now, finally, he understood the darkness he had sired.
The darkness inherent in action was an openness to necessity, to do evil when necessary.
Bais blanched and stepped back when John stood and took his hands off the Godkiller rod. “You’ve done evil! I warned you about the consequences of this, John!”
“My target was no innocent,” John said. He looked around and found Lara and Grover had fled, along with Glory and the Godslayer apparition. “This is no worse than anything I’ve done before.” His head spun. The evil may not have been worse than anything he had done before, but the exertion was. He had never before taken the power of a Fallen Angel into himself, and he felt weak, drawn out. Disgusted, too. He had long ago turned his back on his old evils. “I had to take on the magical aspect of a Fallen Angel, Bais, to win the fight against the gamme. The gamme’s yours now, under my orders. If the gamme balks I’ll go in and torture it again.”
99 Gods: Odysseia Page 45