by Nancy Madore
“You realize, of course, that I could get you all the information you want on these companies if you would just let me make a few phone calls,” she reminded them.
“We can’t risk you tipping anybody off,” said Will. Nadia lowered her wine glass and glared at him. She couldn’t imagine why his continued mistrust should bother her so much. “Even accidentally,” he said defensively. “Too many lives are at stake. Our personal feelings are secondary.”
Nadia wondered what he meant by ‘our personal feelings.’ Probably he meant her personal feelings were secondary and only included the rest of them to be polite. Yet it seemed to imply that he was beginning to believe that she might be innocent. And it occurred to her that somewhere along the line she’d stopped fearing for her life. In fact, she was beginning to feel fairly confident that she would come out of this alive. She almost felt…protected. This realization alarmed her. It hadn’t been two days since these men violently kidnapped her from her office building! Were her feelings real, or a result of the trauma? Was she suffering from the Patty Hearst syndrome after all?
Yet a lot had happened in the short amount of time that they’d been together. These men knew more about her than anyone, even Joe. Nadia flinched at this stray, unexpected remembrance of her recently-former boyfriend. She wondered why she didn’t think of him more. She tried to think about him now with some modicum of emotion but couldn’t even hold on to the thought. She preferred to think about the case.
The case! She could imagine what Clive would say if he knew her thoughts. Hey Nancy Drew, does this rag smell like chloroform?
Nadia could feel the wine going to her head but she recklessly poured herself another glass.
“Is this even possible?” she asked no one in particular. “I mean, why would anyone—even a djinn—risk spreading a contagious disease? They’re putting themselves in danger too!”
“The use of an infectious disease actually supports djinn involvement,” explained Will. “Only a djinn can ditch a sick body for a healthy one. The right type of disease would work in their favor. They could concentrate the sickness in key areas where they want to do the most damage.”
She thought about this. “So you think their use of the phrase ‘Goddess of Death’ is definitely referring to the affliction that spread through Kiriath Arba?” Nadia asked.
“It’s certainly worth looking into,” he replied.
“The djinn are very nostalgic,” explained Gordon. “They’re deeply attached to the past and they’re proud of their own origins. They’re obsessed with their previous lives as Nephilim and they incorporate little mementos of those lives into everything they do. The more we learn about their lives as Nephilim, the easier it is to find them in the here and now.”
“They’re freaks for symbolism,” added Clive. “There’s hidden meaning in everything they do. We’re always looking for signs of this in their communications. They might be forced to stay in hiding, but they’re too egotistical to remain completely invisible.”
“That’s true,” said Gordon. “And that’s why this ‘Goddess of Death’ business sends up a bright red flag.”
“Lilith would eat that shit up,” Clive agreed.
“Do you really think Lilith is out there?” Nadia asked.
“Yes,” said Will. “The only question is where.”
“And you think she’s behind this attack?” she persisted.
“I don’t know,” said Will. “Everything seems to be pointing to her.”
Nadia had a sudden thought. “Hey! Maybe you should check out whoever named that class at the seminar,” she suggested. “They might also be involved.”
Clive snorted. “There goes Nancy Drew again.”
“We’re on it,” said Will. “These seminar lessons are often set up by Muslim awareness groups with ties to extremists groups. We’re trying to track the origin of this particular lesson without endangering our cell.
“Has she heard anything more?” she asked.
“No,” said Will. “We don’t expect her to either. She’s got her instructions.”
“I can’t imagine why they would pick this seminar, particularly when the focus is tolerance for other, non-western viewpoints, like those of Islam,” Nadia said. “What were those other lectures she’s supposed to attend? Maybe there’s another code in there that we missed.”
Will pulled out his phone again. “Uh, we’ve got, Lessons in Hope, which gives first-hand accounts of women who converted to Islam, Cloaked in Glory, a sermon on the benefits of wearing the hijab and, of course, Escaping the Goddess of Death.”
“The name definitely has an ominous ring to it,” said Nadia. “Will they be infecting women there, or is that just their meeting place?”
“It could be either,” said Will. “And as a matter of fact, a few of the people attending are already on some of our watch lists. They’re being checked out as we speak.”
Nadia gasped. “So something is going on there! But what? And why would the djinn be involved?” Nadia thought a moment. “Maybe they want to prevent women around the world from working together! If…like you said…they want to control the Middle East, maybe they don’t want the animosity to stop. This seminar is meant to bring Muslims, Christians and Jews together. Maybe Lilith doesn’t want that.”
They were all watching her with amusement. “Look at her go,” said Clive, shaking his head. Nadia slumped back down in her seat when she saw that she was miles behind them, as usual.
“Don’t listen to him,” said Gordon. “And don’t stop telling us everything that comes into your head.”
Nadia poured herself another glass of wine.
“Hey, easy on that stuff,” said Clive. “We need you coherent.”
Nadia put down the glass. “But…I mean…just in case…shouldn’t you be doing something besides listening to my grandmother’s stories?” she asked.
“There are a number of intel ops at work, chasing every possible lead, including these latest two we’ve just sent them,” Will assured her. “Lilith is the lead we’ve been instructed to follow and we’re going to examine every single point until we’ve exhausted all the possibilities, okay?”
Nadia nodded. She secretly hoped the other leads were more credible than this one. She wondered what light the rest of her story might shed on the situation.
Clive handed her a bowl of tiny, brightly colored flakes floating in milk. “Have some dinner,” he said. “We’ve got a long night ahead of us.”
Chapter 28
Ancient Mesopotamia
The city of Kiriath Arba
A few weeks later
It had been the belief of the Nephilim giants that their existence benefited the world at large. They imagined that even the sons of men would acknowledge this. They especially felt that the true God, the creator of both angels and men, would agree. It was not just their superior strength that compelled this admission, but their excellence overall. The Nephilim grasped new concepts with much more ease than ordinary humans. They were able to adapt, to learn and to grow intellectually without the cumbersome fears, prejudices and superstitions that stunted the sons of men. They felt this clear superiority made them natural leaders, and there was no arguing the fact that most of the cities they ruled fared better than the cities ruled by ordinary men. There were exceptions of course—no living creature was exempt from corruption—but overall, the Nephilim had a far greater propensity for improving the lives they touched. Excepting the most severe cases—such as the Emim, who were defective—the Nephilim lacked the human tendency to oppress others for the mere pleasure of it. They didn’t need to rob those around them of joy in order to find it themselves. The Nephilim loved life. Like their fathers, they delighted in it. They didn’t obsess over sin. They felt no need to hoard pleasure by storing it away or balancing it with sorrow. They believed in hard work, but enjoyed even this, and whatever they did they excelled at.
All of this the Nephilim took as evidence of their right to exist
on earth. They collected their triumphs with great pride, mentally presenting them to the higher power like badges of honor. Each and every accomplishment was as much a gift to God as to themselves. Unlike the sons of men, their loyalties were not constantly changing. They did not look to any being other than their fathers, for help. The sons of men, on the other hand, changed loyalties almost as often as they changed their clothes. They were willing to accept any god, any prophet, anything at all—even an inanimate object of their own making—in the hopes that it would bring them success and victory and joy. This is why they resisted the angels’ teachings. They seemed to prefer leaving their happiness in the hands of someone else. They’d rather have gods than teachers. Why, Lilith had heard of an island west of Syria, across the great sea to the north, where every single Nephilim was either a god or goddess. The people worshiped them unquestioningly, and lived only to please them. It was as if they had handed their very destinies to these ‘gods’ without a single objection. The little island, which was called Mycenae, was in dire straits until Uranus, the Watcher, came and took Gaia, one of their daughters to be his wife. Recognizing his greatness, the islanders instantly made him their god. They declared Gaia a goddess. The island prospered and the people’s fervor deepened. Uranus and Gaia’s first child, Cronus, was also made a god, as was his son, Zeus. In fact all of their descendants became gods, and the Mycenaean people lived vicariously through this angel and his Nephilim offspring, seeking little more out of life than to gain their pleasure. They were obsessed with them, and every event, from the smallest to the largest was attributed to these ‘gods.’ If someone died, it was the will of the gods. When they became sick, they were being tested by the gods. Any misfortune meant they had displeased the gods. If a child so much as fell down and skinned his knee, he would instantly—almost without even realizing he was doing it—make a supplication to the gods.
Given this tendency of the sons of men to shun responsibility, the Nephilim were truly a godsend. Rather than following a false prophet bent on corruption, the sons of men could follow a magnanimous leader who would protect them and help them prosper. This was how most Nephilim thought of themselves. They were well aware that they were not God’s creation but they were, after all, the offspring of His creations. It seemed natural that they should be acclimated into His world.
But in spite of all of this, there were the inevitable flies in the ointment. Most disturbing was what was always simmering just beneath the surface—perhaps it was sour grapes or outright jealously—but the sons of men seemed to always be teetering between neediness and resentment under the leadership of the Nephilim giants. There was the ever-present dilemma, no matter who was in power, that all power had its limits. Some things were unforeseen and inescapable. Life itself was problematic. The mere act of being alive produced immediate difficulties that had to be addressed. The refusal of the sons of men to accept this made them more vulnerable to the problems as they arose. And it left them susceptible to any new concept that they could be made to believe would relieve them of these problems. To be worshiped by the sons of men therefore was to be hopelessly doomed to failure. Perhaps this was why their creator remained distant and silent. It was clear that He intended for mankind to figure it out for themselves.
The Nephilim understood this and they accepted the responsibility in spite of the futility of it all. It was the only decent way to live. And this, then, was the rub; the Nephilim had not only failed to produce a perfect, problem free life for sons of men, but they appeared to be keeping the secret to happiness for themselves alone. The sons of men felt cheated.
For the people of Kiriath Arba, Lilith particularly epitomized this seeming inequity between the Nephilim and the sons of men. Here was a creature who defied all their laws and prospered. It was unheard of for a woman to dictate her own destiny. To be a giant and a warrior! She acted without regard for their customs. She flaunted her relationship with Asmodeous without the slightest inclination toward being a wife. She even somehow managed to evade pregnancy. They remained convinced that she was the cause of the affliction that struck their newborns, although the newly imposed tax had the desired effect of silencing their tongues. But secretly they felt she was an abomination, a demon hiding a terrible evil beneath her deceivingly beautiful exterior. She remained, to them, the reigning Goddess of Death.
This element of resentment and mistrust of the Nephilim ran rampant throughout Mesopotamia. They might have accepted the Nephilim as rulers, and in some cases even gods—out of necessity—but it was becoming obvious that they dreaded them more than they would ever respect or love them. There was always the underlying fear, as of evil, residing within the sons of men. The habit of covering their women to hide them from the angels and their offspring had become widespread. And it wasn’t just their women they feared for, but themselves too. Even the clearing of the cedar forest hadn’t eased their minds. In times of famine, rumors abounded that all Nephilim giants, given the right circumstances, would resort to devouring the sons of men rather than starving to death. Always some legend from a faraway land brought terrifying tales of people who suffered such a fate. Other legends brought rumors of Nephilim drinking the blood of the sons of men in order to gain eternal life. Yet these were superstitions that originated with the sons of men. They were the ones who believed that the secret to life resided in the blood. This ritual of drinking blood had come from them. If they chose to believe the Nephilim’s longevity was attributed to this practice there was nothing that could be done to convince them otherwise.
All of this had been building and now, it seemed to have reached a fever pitch with the dreams.
Three days had passed since Anu, Azazyl and Arba arrived in Kiriath Arba, and they had spent every minute of it locked away in Lilith and Asmodeous’ private chambers. The people had watched the angels’ unexpected arrival with wonder and awe. The angels’ untouched beauty, their silent power, their shining greatness; it was all at once incredible and exhilarating to behold. But the manner in which they had shut themselves off from the rest of the city (it was said that even those bringing food were not allowed to enter the chambers) was alarming. All that the citizens could do was to wait, somberly speculating what the secretive behavior signified.
Lilith and Asmodeous, meanwhile, were no less alarmed than their people. The news the angels brought shocked them and, even worse—it wounded them to the heart. It was unimaginable. Lilith was prostrate with grief. For the first time in her life she was numb with terror. She was afraid of the depths her loathing for the sons of men had reached. There was no longer any hope of reconciliation between the races.
Asmodeous and the angels were similarly devastated. The five of them huddled together, struggling to give and receive comfort. They went over the details again and again, dissecting every point. They mourned the events to come, even as they wondered how they might survive them. They did not, however, attempt to deny the inevitable. With that uncanny intelligence they possessed in almost all things, they instantly recognized it for the truth that it was.
The predictions had come through a series of dreams. These dreams appeared first to the angels, and then they were manifested to one of the sons of men, a certain prophet by the name of Enoch.
The angels were known for their ability to see into the future and it was commonplace for them to communicate with each other and their offspring through dreams and visions. It was rare for one of the sons of men to possess this gift, but Enoch’s dreams not only coincided with those of the angels, they co-existed. The Watchers communicated with Enoch in his nocturnal visions, surprised to learn that the Others were doing the same. Desperate, the fallen angels enlisted Enoch’s help to speak on their behalf. But even this failed to halt the events that had already been set in motion.
Even as the five of them gathered in Kiriath Arba, they knew myriads of warrior angels were gathering throughout the universe. The fallen angels—the Watchers—could do nothing to stop them.
&nb
sp; For Lilith, it was unfathomable. How could God allow it? How could He deny the Nephilim’s existence? Surely there was enough of His work in them to warrant mercy? After all, they had a greater appreciation for the gifts He’d bestowed on the earth than the ones he created them for. The inclusion of these angelic creatures to the bloodline had only improved the species. Surely if He could re-create man He would make them more like the Nephilim? Wasn’t it the sons of men who should be obliterated if one of them had to go?
The angels could shed no light on the conundrum and were, in fact, as mystified as Asmodeous and Lilith. Their terror was the only thing that seemed real.
There was nothing to prevent it. The war was imminent. This war would be different than anything mankind had witnessed before. This would be a war waged by angels. Lilith’s father had always told her that angels were not designed to destroy. They had the ability to cause destruction but they rarely lifted their own hand against another living creature. But that was not the case with all angels. Anu and his fellow fallen angels had been Watchers. They were called to watch over and assist the people of earth. In the event that some disaster was about to strike, they were supposed to alert the ‘Others.’
These angels, being themselves immortal, would not be fighting to kill. Neither, for that matter, were the souls of any of the other creatures destructible. This war was different. The ‘Others’ were unconcerned with the flesh. Their goal was to capture, not to kill, and their casualties would be eternal prisoners. Their weapons were the elements contained right there in the earth. The war would very nearly wipe out humanity, stretching out over all the regions of the earth that the fallen angels had populated.
But it was the object of this heavenly war that froze Lilith’s blood in her veins. It was to obliterate from the earth every man, woman or child who had even the smallest trace of Nephilim blood in their veins.