Great White Throne

by J. B. Simmons

  “He is the prophet,” Chris said. “He is Elijah come again.”

  The words sank into me. “I am only a servant, a messenger.”

  Jacob eyed me, uncertain. I held his stare in silence. He breathed out heavily and looked away, facing the other men. “If Chris would have Elijah fight, I won’t stop him. We need every weapon we have.”

  “Thank you,” I said.

  Jacob nodded to me and straightened his back—all soldier. “The time has come. Follow me.”

  THE MEN BEGAN climbing a ladder through the narrow shaft above. Jacob was the first to reach the top, before I’d even started going up. He slid open a manhole-sized lid, revealing the smokey sky above.

  Most of the men had crawled out when Chris paused at the foot of the ladder. He clasped my shoulder. “We’ll try to get Naomi back, okay?”

  I nodded. “And then we’ll get Brie.”

  He smiled like it was an inside joke. We both knew the odds. “And if not today,” he said, “maybe tomorrow—after the Lord’s victory.” With that he started up the ladder.

  I knelt down beside Aisha, where she’d been sitting. Her arms reached around me, holding onto my back as I rose and began to climb. The sounds of fighting grew louder with each rung. As we neared the opening, I heard gunshots, confused shouts, cries of pain, of death.

  “Sure you want to go?” I rested a few rungs shy of the top. I couldn’t see anything but dark sky above.

  “Is there any other way?” Aisha asked softly.

  “Yes, we could stay in the tunnel, hide. These men won’t survive against Don and his machines, and we’ll go down with them. You won’t even be able to run.”

  Her grip tightened around my shoulders. “Did I need my legs when I shot Alexi?”

  “I guess not.”

  “Then I will fight. Perhaps I can do more. I want the honor of dying to defend what I love.”

  I nodded. She was right. Death no longer mattered. We could run for a little while, but it would come back to this. There was nowhere left to hide, and no reason to try.

  “Why are you still waiting?” Aisha asked.

  “I’m worried about what might happen after you die.”

  She laughed lightly. “I’m not. I’ve watched you, Eli. I share your belief in the light, and maybe even in Isa. I believe we will meet again on the other side.”

  The way she said it, with such hope, made some of the tension slip out of my shoulders. “He came to me, Aisha. I saw him and heard him. Jesus, Isa—he’s everything.”

  She studied me, her eyes concentrated. “I’m beginning to understand.” The sound of a gunshot pulled her gaze up. “Let’s go now.”

  As I climbed the final few rungs up, I felt the warmth of hope and faith and peace. I felt God was with us, like maybe we could serve him in this fight. I felt like we could even win.

  But then I felt a hard, cold fist. The instant I peeked out of the hole, something grabbed me and lifted us out.

  A demon’s charred face was in mine. “He knew you’d come,” it growled. “He’s waiting for you.”

  The demon tore Aisha off my back and threw her to the ground. Then it slung me over its shoulder and charged toward the Dome of the Rock. Androids flanked us. I looked back and my breath froze. The huge space was packed with androids in ordered lines, while dark blurs of spirits danced and weaved in their midst.

  I twisted to look where we were going just as the Dome’s huge doors swung open. The smell of smoke and incense filled my nose. The demon flung me forward. I hit the ground, rolled and slid against something firm. Legs.

  Don stood over me, black suit, open arms, and grinning as always. “Welcome, Elijah! It’s so nice to have you back. You’re in time to see my strength fully restored.”

  My gaze moved past him. His presence felt almost familiar compared to what surrounded us. Pale yellow light lit the cavernous round room. Thousands of colorful tiles covered the floor. They probably covered the walls and the ceiling, too, but I couldn’t see them, because stacks of oval chambers crammed into the space. Each chamber sat on top of another, knitted together by fibrous cables running from the floor to the ceiling.

  The ceiling was a swirling chaos of black and roiling flames. I could see the dragon’s eyes staring down at us through the blackness, as if the Dome’s golden ceiling weren’t even there. Dark wisps flowed out of the dragon, out of the darkness, and into the chambers along the wall. It seemed like the dragon was pumping evil into the entire hive—the chambers and whatever they held.

  I took a deep breath and gagged. The incense was masking a heavy smell of sulfur. I wiped sweat off my forehead. My body shook and sagged, weak as if I had a raging fever. I felt clammy, nauseous.

  Don backed away and stood between two columns along the Dome’s inner ring. At the base of the columns were two empty chambers. “These two are for you.”

  “Who?” I asked. Lord, help me. Help—

  “You and Naomi, of course.” Don pointed past one of the chambers, and I saw Naomi’s motionless body sprawled on the ground. “I keep my promises,” Don said, but I was already scrambling, running to her.

  I put my hand to her neck. She was breathing, she was alive. God, you brought her back to me once. Don’t let her die now. Please God. Please God. Pl—

  “You brought her to me.” Don’s words severed my prayer. “And now she is yours. She made for a fine Mary, don’t you think? Actually, the mother of my enemy was not nearly as beautiful. Mary was meek as a mouse, just like her pathetic child. Naomi is a true woman clothed with the sun. I’ll keep you both around, and you may continue to worship our son forever. I have new bodies prepared for both of you.”

  Naomi had begun to stir. Her green eyes opened. “Elijah.”

  “I’m here.”

  “Where’s my son?” Her eyes scanned the room.

  “He’s in his chamber.” Don pointed to a capsule near the center of the room. “He’s growing into what he was meant to be.”

  Naomi lurched forward, but an android grabbed her. Her eyes blazed at Don. “God alone gives life.”

  “Oh, I don’t deny he started this mess on earth. He’s also the one who abandoned it, who would let it destroy itself. I’m the one who will preserve it.” He stepped to the chamber closest to us and ran his fingers along its smooth surface. “Souls will no longer die,” he mused. “They will remain in constant pleasure, transported from one body to another, and I will draw on their energy to enable this perpetual, blissful life.”

  “I’d rather die.” Naomi cringed away, but the android wouldn’t let her budge.

  “You never cease to amuse me.” Don stepped closer to us. “Still thinking you have a choice.”

  I tried to move back, but another android seized me. Its four arms clamped around my arms and legs. I didn’t bother thrashing. I prayed, Thank you for letting me see Naomi again. I smiled at her. “The Lord will return.”

  She nodded and closed her eyes. “Thank you, God, for giving us this life. Thank you for loving us. Thank you for Elijah. Thank—”

  “Enough,” Don said. Naomi’s mouth slammed shut. He glared at her. “You won’t think it either.”

  The android holding Naomi suddenly injected something into her neck. In a breath she fell limp in its arms. It hauled her toward the chamber.

  Don turned to me. “Last chance, Elijah.”

  “You said we have no choice.”

  “She has no choice, but you still do. Your soul is salvageable. You’re not fully turned. Not yet.”

  God, what can I do? I felt helpless. I prayed with all I had.

  The sound of voices made me turn. A group of androids carried tied-up men, one by one, through the Dome’s doors. The first machine reached Don and dangled a limp man before him.

  “Christopher Max.” Don smiled, then pointed to a chamber half way up one of the Dome’s walls. “That one.”

  The android moved to the wall and climbed up it like a spider. It deposited Chris’s body in
to the chamber. Translucent fibers closed over him. A dark tentacle plunged in, as if stabbing into his heart.

  Another machine approached. “Zafar al-Saud.” Don pointed to another chamber. “That one.”

  The android holding him rushed away.

  And so it went, name after name. They passed in seconds, but Don paused when Aisha was presented to him. She writhed in the machine’s arms. But it did nothing.

  Don put his hand to his chin. “This pretty one was supposed to die with the Mahdi, but I’ll keep her. She’ll make a good trophy.”

  Aisha opened her mouth as if to shout, but no words came. Her red face was shaking furiously.

  “Hold her to the side for now,” Don commanded, and more androids holding men filed through. Most were unconscious, but a few flailed like Aisha. It didn’t matter—each one found himself in a chamber, pierced by the dragon’s spirit.

  When they were all gone, Don turned back to me. His black eyes burned. “What’s your choice?”

  I felt the universe compressing around me. All the darkness and evil and power were here, in Don’s command. “Why me?”

  “Because you’ve served me well, Elijah.”

  “You’re a liar.”

  Don laughed. “The best there is. And so are you. Don’t you know the enemy called you from before the creation of this world? You were meant to be like your forerunner, like Elijah the Prophet. You were meant to serve the enemy. He gave you the gift of sight. He planted the seeds of greatness in you, and what have you done with it? You brought the virgin to me in Rome. You showed me the places where the order hid. You put the Captain in my hands in Geneva.”

  “No!” I shouted. But I couldn’t think, couldn’t pray.

  “You joined Azazel, fought with me in war. You helped kill the Mahdi. You returned with my son. What more could I ask?”

  “No, no.” I stammered. “That’s not—”

  His words battered into me again. “Why else would I honor you now? Why else would I want you beside me? You are highly gifted of God’s creations, and you have served me. Well done, my faithful servant.”

  “You’re a liar,” I said, but was it true? The android released me, and I fell to my knees. I tried to remember, tried to see the light, the white throne. God, I’m here. You must be here. You never fail, you never leave. I’m sorry for how I’ve failed. Forgive me, please. Show me truth.

  YOU ARE MINE. Jesus—His words, more like a sword than a voice.

  I surged to my feet, unable to suppress a smile. Don stepped back.

  TELL HIM YOU WILL SPEAK FOR HIM.

  “I will speak for you.”

  Don blinked in surprise. Then he looked over his shoulder. A bowl-shaped helmet was there, like the one I had used weeks ago in Don’s tower in Geneva. This bowl was made entirely of black fibers, where the other had been translucent.

  It all made sense. God wanted me here. He wanted me to speak to the world. “I will speak for you,” I repeated.

  Don turned back to me, and his lips turned slowly into a smile. “Yes, yes Elijah, you will.” He paused. “Reboot your precept.”

  Fear struck me. With my precept on, wouldn’t he control me? Prayers rose up and bubbled over inside of me. An unexpected word slipped from my lips: “Hosanna.”

  “What was that?” Don asked.

  I kept my face blank.

  “Your maker stopped listening long ago, Eli.” He stepped closer, his beautiful face sneering down at me. “I told you. This world is mine now. The angels are fighting a battle they’ll lose, because their god is not coming this time. If anyone would sense him coming, it would be me. If you try to say anything against me, you will watch Naomi suffer before she dies.”

  “Okay,” I swallowed.

  “Good.” He pressed his fingers to my temples. “Turn on your precept. Now.”

  “V … reboot.”

  INFORMATION HIT ME like an avalanche. With my precept on, my mind churned at twice the speed. I saw more. I heard more. And, most important, I felt Naomi. Her precept was on—maybe forced on—but either way, our sync was there. The data told me she was slipping back into consciousness from whatever the android had injected.

  “Excellent,” Don said. “It’s time to address the world.”

  I hesitated. He sounded so sure. Was this really what the Lord wanted from me? Jesus, how can I speak, when he is in my precept? How—?

  “You underestimated me,” Don said. “I told you, he’s not listening. Nothing, no one, can stop me now.” His gaze locked onto me. This time he wasn’t smiling. He was concentrating.

  A command entered my precept: Come here. The words were Don’s, unspoken and impossible to resist.

  I stepped forward. Another step. The bowl-shaped helmet hung before me, dangling from the Dome and the dragon above.

  Another command: Put it on.

  My hands lifted to the helmet’s sides. I couldn’t stop. I tried to speak, tried to pray. Don’s presence crowded out everything else. My arms shook violently, fighting back, resisting.

  Don’s words slammed into my mind: I don’t care what you believe, Eli. Didn’t any of the order tell you that? I care only about what you do, and this time, you will obey me.

  He lifted his hand and tapped his fingers in the air. I looked in horror as my hand mirrored his. I was nothing but the puppet, my precept the strings, and Don the master.

  GOD! I shouted inside. My inner voice sounded small, weak, distant.

  Don answered: You will say what I say. Think only what I allow you to think. Connect now.

  And then I was lowering the bowl over my head. I was feeling it push and prod against my skull.

  A shot rang out, the sound close but muted. I saw a hole appear in Don’s forehead. I saw him fall back. I saw a man slam into him. But all of that was minuscule, because I was watching it through an ocean. It was the ocean of minds in the universe, just as I’d seen it in the UN tower, in the Omega project.

  This was different, though. I didn’t need to enter one of the pinpricks of light, as I had when I’d spoken to one person. I could shout to them all at once, and I knew they would hear, because the liquid streams of black connected me to them. It was all black except for their tiny lights and the blazing fire of my soul.

  SPEAK, ELIJAH.

  Don’s voice was gone. These words came to me from deeper than myself. Words of history before the creation of the world, revealed once, and now revealed again. They came out of my lips easily. They were what I was born to say, and every living soul was going to hear.

  “Behold,” I began, “the day is coming, burning like an oven, when all the arrogant and all evildoers will be stubble.” In the ocean before my eyes, millions of pinpricks of light opened, like flowers opening for the sun. “The day that is here shall set you ablaze, says the Lord of hosts, so that it will leave you neither root nor branch. But for you who fear the Lord’s name, the name of Jesus Christ, the sun of righteousness shall rise with healing in its wings. You shall go out leaping like calves from the stall. And you shall tread down the wicked, for they will be ashes under the soles of your feet, on the day when I act, says the Lord of hosts. Heed my words, for I am Elijah the prophet before the great and awesome day of the Lord comes.”

  I finished, and all at once the universe was gone. I was back in the Dome. I’d been yanked out from under the bowl.

  Don glared down at me. The hole in the center of his forehead was like a third eye, dripping blood. I felt nothing but contempt for him. My eyes looked past him, to Jacob’s body on the ground, to the gun just outside his outstretched arm, and then to the figures assaulting the dragon above.

  The angels had joined the battle.

  I recognized one of them—Michael. He raised his sword. It was not of the world. It was the same as the dragon’s flame, light against dark. They slammed into each other.

  “Look at me,” Don demanded, and I did.

  His face was astonished, terrified, and small. Yet his presence filled my
precept again. He was holding back nothing. He couldn’t hurt me, I knew, no matter what he did. I had touched the Word, and the Word would conquer.

  Don glared at me. “You chose wrong, prophet.”

  His fist closed around my throat. He lifted me without effort, and my feet dangled above the ground. I didn’t fight back, didn’t struggle, didn’t speak. I didn’t have to. I had done my part.

  With a sudden fling, Don hurled my body through the air, through the Dome’s giant doors, and into the open square. I crashed onto the ground and lost my breath. I clung to consciousness as my body rolled and finally slid to a stop.

  My back was against the ground. I couldn’t feel anything below my waist. I tried to rise up, and fell. My right arm was broken. I twisted my head to the other side and saw paradise.

  Naomi.

  She was lying only feet away, as motionless as I was. It was like that moment in the ISA hallway almost a year ago, except now her ashen, freckled face was alive with energy. She smiled, as if I’d done the right thing.

  “I heard you,” she said. “Elijah the prophet. You finished the race.”

  I smiled back and tried to say something, anything. The effort nearly made me pass out. Nothing could move up my throat, where Don had crushed it in his grip. Each breath hurt, halting and irregular. So I just lay there, broken but staring into Naomi’s eyes, listening to the roar of battling angels and demons, light and dark.

  Thank you, Lord. Thank you for this final moment.

  Something beyond Naomi caught my attention.

  The sun.

  It was low in the sky, grazing the top edge of the wall around the square. The day’s light was fading, just as surely as my life was.

  But the sun seemed to grow. I’d never seen it so big.

  “I see them now, the angels,” Naomi whispered by my side. “Paul taught that it would end this way: The Lord Jesus is revealed from heaven with his mighty angels in flaming fire.” She paused. “And Peter wrote, The heavens and earth that now exist are stored up for fire, being kept until the day of judgment and destruction of the ungodly.”

  I blinked my eyes shut, and when I opened them again, the sun was twice its size, maybe three times. It almost filled the sky. It was all I could see.