by Nancy Madore
“So…Shakhra is involved in this then?” asked Nadia.
“Maybe, maybe not,” said Gordon. “But at least we’ve got another lead to add to our network. There’s a good chance that someone in that company has connections to the djinn.”
“This is where you start to lose me,” said Nadia. “Do you realize how paranoid you sound?”
“We know it probably sounds that way to you,” said Clive. “Because you don’t know what you’re talking about.” The look Nadia gave him only seemed to amuse him. “Seriously, it would shock you to know how many companies—huge companies, major companies, with their hands in everything from medical research to helping stupid ass kids who can’t get out of their own way go to college—have direct, confirmed ties to terrorism. Man, this is real life, ghost bustin’, terrorist ass kickin’ shit!”
“Why not just close down those companies?” asked Nadia.
“Because we need them to help us ferret out the bad guys,” said Will.
Clive smiled wickedly. “Take your company for example. BEACON’s turning out to be a gold mine of djinn connections.”
Nadia winced at the implication. “But I’m neither a djinn nor a terrorist,” she said.
“Someone over there is,” said Clive.
Nadia stared at him, shocked. “I—we…” She stopped to take a quick mental inventory of the people she worked with, but there were too many, what with board members, paid employees and the volunteers. Yet it didn’t seem possible that any of them could be involved.
“Don’t worry,” Clive added, guessing her thoughts. “We’re on it.” Nadia felt herself growing pale at the implication.
“Anyway, you close one company and they’ll just start up another,” said Gordon, tactfully guiding their conversation away from the volatile topic of BEACON.
“Yeah,” agreed Clive. “These bitches have more money than God.”
“It’s not like they’re sitting around board meetings plotting acts of terrorism,” Will told her. “Often it’s someone on the inside acting on their own, using the company’s money and resources.”
This was all very disconcerting, but if BEACON was harboring some link to terrorism she certainly didn’t want to protect it.
She woke up thinking she couldn’t feel any worse and here she was; feeling worse.
“It’s the jet lag,” said Will, noticing her expression. “It always makes things seem worse than they are.”
“You’ll feel better after a shower,” added Gordon.
“I’ve had jet lag plenty of times before,” snapped Nadia, more sharply than she intended.
“Then get your shit together and get over it,” Clive snapped back. “‘Cause these djinn aren’t gonna wait around for little Miss Priss to get in a better mood.”
Chapter 32
Ancient Mesopotamia
Kiriath Arba
Several years later
Under Azazyl’s direction, the Nephilim of Kiriath Arba worked tirelessly to prepare for the impending war of the angels. They built an enormous wall that was five times higher than the one protecting their own city just south of Kiriath Arba, in the desert. It had but one gate from which the Nephilim could enter or leave, yet all around its parameter soldiers stood guard. The people of Kiriath Arba were given no explanation for it and could do little more than speculate on what was happening inside the wall.
Initially, people entering this desert city (excepting the Nephilim giants), were never seen again. This made it an undesirable place to go. Violators of the law were among the first to be marched through the gate into whatever horrors lay beyond. From the fertile imaginations of the sons of men there sprouted a rich crop of tales involving every imaginable kind of depravity and torture, the worst of which were inspired by recent memories of the Emim. They pictured decadent feasts where the unfortunate prisoners were served as the main course, their gleaming, well-oiled bodies speared and trussed, and turning ever so slowly on a spit over red hot coals. They reminisced over the good old days when criminals were merely stoned to death. Fear had them following every injunction to the letter, but this didn’t slow the unprecedented number of arrests that continued to occur. It soon became clear that the youngest and the strongest of the sons of men were being targeted, and they could be seized under any kind of false pretense.
In actuality, the prisoners who were brought to this desert prison were kept in relatively good physical health, not in order to become part of any feast, but to help the Nephilim build a gigantic ship. The massive walls had only been built as high as was necessary to hide what they were doing. And the sons of men were not allowed to leave the city because the Nephilim didn’t trust them to keep their secret.
Aside from the construction of the ship, many other preparations were being made. Secret information was being gathered and recorded by Azazyl and the other angels, with copies being made on copper sheets, animal skins and stone to ensure their preservation. These documents recorded sacred—and potentially dangerous—knowledge of earth and the universe, and everything in it. Most importantly, they held the key for bringing back these lost souls—the Qliphoth—of the fallen Nephilim. But these angelic revelations were only one piece of the puzzle. There was a second, equally necessary piece which each Nephilim had to prepare for his or her own individual soul. It was a ‘Book of the Dead’ which described that Nephilim in remarkable detail, recording everything from their parentage to a lengthy account of the more significant events of their life here on earth. The books were then logged in an official register, set in chronological order according to generation, with first-generation Nephilim listed first. Scribes were kept busy copying them day in and day out. To ensure secrecy, many of the books were written in a combination of languages—a few of which were completely unknown to men. Some words were written in the traditional cuneiform, while others were depicted with pictures or symbols. Azazyl oversaw the scribing himself to ensure accuracy. The documents were then painstakingly wrapped and stored with as much care as a cherished loved one being laid to rest in a tomb. It was imperative that these secrets be preserved. Whether or not the Nephilim survived the impending war, their flesh was mortal, and therefore was doomed to perish eventually. The documents were their only hope for continued survival. Life was preferable to death, even if it must be lived from within the inferior flesh of the sons of men.
In addition to re-establishing themselves on the earth, the Nephilim would need to learn how to control this incredible power they had over life and death. This information was especially dangerous, but it was necessary in the event that other, less desirable Qliphoth—such as the Emim—managed to find their way back into the world. Problems could arise, and there had to be a way to banish unwanted Qliphoth from the earth in order to protect their own positions. These documents were kept secret from everyone but a select few. It was Azazyl’s hope that Asmodeous would lead the Nephilim race in their reclamation of the world.
While all of this was going on in the desert just south of Kiriath Arba, other Nephilim around the world were making preparations as well. The sons of men, meanwhile, remained stubbornly unconcerned by the threat of the ‘end of the world.’ Although they could accept the concept of being tortured by their gods, the idea of being brought to the brink of extinction was not something they were prepared to consider. They laughed at the very idea. The warnings of the prophet, Enoch, and his descendant, Noah, were almost completely ignored.
Even the mysterious and ominous behavior of the giants went unmarked. Yet it was impossible not to feel the ever-increasing animosity between the Nephilim and the sons of men. These ‘gods’ grew more and more oppressive. Their preoccupation with the impending war was mankind’s only reprieve.
As for Lilith, her general dislike for the sons of men had blossomed into an intense loathing that she no longer bothered to hide. The hurt she felt over being rejected by God made her vengeful. She didn’t just hate the sons of men; she hated their creator as well. She believ
ed Him to be as flawed as His creatures. She supposed Azazyl was right. The Nephilim had been wrong to flaunt their superiority over the sons of men. Their God was a jealous God who didn’t appreciate being bested.
If they survived the war the Nephilim would get an opportunity to do things differently. This time they would focus on the weaknesses of the sons of men, not the strengths of the Nephilim. If they could prove that mankind would self-destruct without their help, surely He would reconsider their position on earth. This time the Nephilim would encourage—and even foster—mankind's destructive beliefs and behaviors, assisting them toward their ruinous end. The Nephilim would no longer be able to rule by means of strength; all men would be equal in that regard. They would have to master the sons of men through their superior intellects. The Nephilim must prove once and for all that mankind needs them to survive.
Not that mankind deserved to survive. In Lilith’s opinion, the sons of men were selfish, ignorant and petty, like spoiled children that one longed to punish. She took pleasure in being the one to select which of them would be arrested and condemned to spend the rest of their life as a slave in the Nephilim’s secret desert city. She enjoyed choosing the most arrogant men for her army to seize. And the women were not exempt either. They could be snatched up for so much as giving Lilith a look she didn’t like. It wasn’t long before Lilith was the most feared person in Kiriath Arba. People avoided her like the plague. Although the affliction had passed—just as Asmodeous predicted—the rumors that linked her to it had not. Children were vigorously kept indoors and out of her reach. A mere look from the beautiful but terrifying Lilith could make them disappear forever. Since she most often took the youngest and fittest among them, people began to wonder if, like her nephew Gilgamesh, Lilith had some sexual interest in her victims. And where the sons of men were concerned, every rumor was destined to become history.
Asmodeous continued to rule Kiriath Arba with Lilith standing ominously by his side. The people endured their reign in grim silence, while inwardly growing more and more resentful and rebellious.
In spite of all this, Lilith and Asmodeous’ relationship thrived, just as the silvery saltbush thrives in the worst desert storms. Hardship only seemed to bring them closer together. The very sight of Asmodeous brought Lilith pleasure and she never tired of his touch. They made promises to each other and carefully laid down plans, both for the present and the future. They discussed the coming war, anticipating every possibility. They filled the ship with all their favorite things, re-stocking it often without the slightest regard for waste. They speculated over what the world would be like when they emerged from the ship. They debated about what they would do differently when rebuilding Kiriath Arba. They even talked about their eventual deaths, carefully considering what characteristics they would like to have the next time around. They approached even the most depressing topics optimistically, confident that they could get through anything as long as they had each other. They never ran out of things to talk about and found amusement in almost everything. It was what Lilith loved most about Asmodeous, that he had taught her to laugh.
In the course of their preparations for the war, Asmodeous decided that he and Lilith should learn how to swim. They found a private length of river and went there almost every morning. And they took to the water like fish. They enjoyed it so much that they continued their training long after it was necessary. It became one of the high points of their day to rush down to the river, giggling like children as they stripped off their clothes, climbed to the highest spot they could find and jumped fearlessly into the deep water. They spent hours splashing around, always trying to one-up the other with their increasingly daring antics.
For the first time in her life, Lilith loved someone else more than herself. But she found that this kind of love came with a price. New anxieties arose. There was now another person to worry about. There were times when she feared more for Asmodeous than for herself. She knew that Asmodeous would never let anything happen to her and this reassured her on her own behalf. But what of him? Could she ensure the same? Suddenly she wasn’t as confident in her own abilities. And she was glad that she’d never had a child. A child—his child—would be one more thing for her to worry about.
Throughout Mesopotamia life trudged uncertainly on. The tension between the races was developing into an animosity so potent it would have eventually brought mass destruction to one or the other in any event. With no incentive to repair their relations with the sons of men, what little forbearance and munificence the Nephilim formerly had was completely depleted. The giants seemed barely able to tolerate humans now. A few couldn’t even do that much, and rumors of a new tribe of giants bent on exterminating the sons of men spread through Mesopotamia. This menace kept the sons of men petrified, prompting them to stay and face the persecution of their Nephilim rulers rather than to risk being massacred by these blood-thirsty crusaders.
Those were difficult times for the sons of men. Even in Kiriath Arba, the formerly peaceful city, it seemed as if death would be better than what they endured. They were treated little better than slaves, especially the ones who were brought to the desert. These were put to use in every conceivable way, from forced labor to experiments in bringing back the lost Nephilim souls. The latter were the only humans to emerge from the secret city, but they returned so completely changed that it would have been better if they had not returned at all. They were nothing like their former selves, having no apparent memory of their lives or the people who loved them. They were arrogant, superior and completely indifferent to their own people. They spoke in the new Nephilim tongue and kept to themselves. Like the Nephilim, they were allowed to come and go as they pleased. Perhaps the most disturbing thing was that they kept what was happening in the desert secret, refusing to give out the smallest bit of information to their own race. It was almost as if they no longer belonged to that race.
Those who had known these transformed individuals had no doubt that they were possessed. To see their loved ones so altered was more disturbing than anything they had endured up to that point. Rumors of this new horror spread like dandelions in a windy field. In spite of the Nephilim’s many precautions to keep their activities secret, the sons of men now had an idea of what was occurring behind the great wall. This was yet another terror unleashed. This new breed of Nephilim emerging from among their own people was unconscionable and undefeatable. Without means for protecting themselves they turned to God, praying relentlessly while wearing religious amulets that were purported to ward off evil.
Their behavior amused Lilith. She became more enthusiastic and rigorous in her choices for who would be among the ‘damned.’ She spitefully scoured the city for new faces, growing more and more malicious in her selections. She singled out the most beautiful and gifted of their sons and daughters in order to create the most distress. She enjoyed seeing the utter defeat in the faces of their grieving parents.
But among the citizens of Kiriath Arba, Asmodeous was considered even more culpable than Lilith. He was the one who brought her to their city and gave her free reign over them. He now seemed obsessed with his desert creation, hardly deigning to step foot in the city he once loved. His ‘Goddess of Death’ now ruled while he sacrificed their children to demons. Their beloved king became the ‘King of the Demons.’
This was Mesopotamia in the days before the flood. Years passed. No one knew when the appointed hour would come. There were moments when it seemed as if it never would come. But then one day, quite unexpectedly, it did.
Chapter 33
The Flood
Lilith sprawled out on the river bank, having just emerged from the water. The heat of the sun, although severe, felt splendid on her chilled skin. She closed her eyes, delighting in the deep crimson that flooded her lids, thick and warm, like blood. She was overwhelmingly conscious of sensual pleasures, like the salty taste of Asmodeous’ skin, and the exquisite entwining of their limbs during the night. But her contentment was t
empered by the need to return to the desert. Asmodeous would not like it if he knew she was out alone.
Lilith sighed. All these precautions were wearing on her. They took all the spontaneity out of life, making it little more than a kind of dreadful anticipation. It wasn’t as if they didn’t have the angels to warn them. Anu had never failed her before. It was unreasonable to expect her to take an entourage on every single outing, especially when there wasn’t even the slightest hint of a storm on the horizon. What need had she for ten slaves trudging behind her with the mandatory ziki in tow, watching her every move with those dour expressions pasted on their miserable little faces?
Though she had to admit that the ziki were indeed a brilliant idea. The remarkably lightweight rafts were constructed from large reeds and designed to look like oversized shields so that no one outside the desert wall would guess their true purpose. Four wooden oars were hidden within the seams of the raft, along with an ingenious instrument for determining direction in the event of darkness. Anu and Azazyl had thought of everything. Although the ziki wouldn’t be strong enough to carry them through the disaster, it was hoped that it would get them to the ship. All Nephilim—especially Lilith—were under strict orders to have the ziki with them whenever they ventured outside the wall.
An unwelcome twinge of guilt disturbed Lilith’s peaceful mind, creating a sudden flutter of anxiety to return to the desert. She obstinately ignored it. Just a few more minutes, she promised herself.
It was impossible to envision disaster on such an exquisite morning. The birds were chirruping noisily in the river reeds that crowded the bank while insects buzzed irritably as they passed. Lilith wondered how much longer this could go on. On a day such as this, she could almost persuade herself that it was all just a terrible mistake.