by Nancy Madore
As Nadia listened, she couldn’t help wondering if Ornias realized that he was referring to the ancient ancestors of the Essenes, those monks who paved the way for the very men who were responsible for his capture.
Gordon was not inclined to enlighten him. “So, getting back to this covenant,” he said. “Is it Asmodeous’ contention that these Other angels are trying to get humans to self-destruct, so that they can take back control and rule mankind?”
“Yes,” replied Ornias. “It started out as a theory, but as the years wore on, world events seemed to confirm it. Even I have started to believe.”
“How will the Others rule?” asked Gordon.
Ornias appeared to consider this. “That’s the million dollar question,” he admitted. “Of course it’s all just theories. But with every century that passes it feels more like a prophecy. From what I know about the angels, it seems that they’re at odds over how to manage mankind.
“You know about the Watchers and the Others,” he continued. “But there are more angels still. Angelic-type creatures have come from all over the universe and beyond, just to get a look at the human race. Barakel told my father this. Some of them were just as powerful as the Others—or at least they didn’t fear the Others the way the Watchers did.” Ornias’ eyes grew narrower, a subtle indication that he was enjoying the topic. “From what I’ve seen, the angels aren’t really all that different from us. They separate into groups, according to their opinions. Each side believes they’re right and demonizes those who disagree. I think it’s all just one big experiment. I really don’t believe anyone knows how to handle the sons of men.”
Gordon seemed too engrossed in what Ornias was saying to speak. And the sound of Ornias’ voice was as mesmerizing as his words.
“Think about it,” continued Ornias. “After the flood, the Others began a massive campaign to encourage the ‘end of the world.’ From their prophecies it seems that this will pave the way for them to swoop in and take control of mankind. The key seems to be that it has to be mankind who brings about their own end. They have to self-destruct.”
“If the world self-destructs, where will the Others rule?” asked Gordon.
Ornias shrugged. “Their followers claim they have prepared a pretty nice, Qliphoth free, place called Heaven,” he said. “Perhaps it’s another planet in another universe. Maybe they’ve even prepared new and improved bodies for your souls to reside in. It’s my understanding that human souls cannot truly exist without living matter, so they’ll have to provide something for you.” Ornias looked thoughtful. “My guess is that they’ve found another species to put you in. Something a little more…manageable than human beings. But who can say?”
“How do you and the other Qliphoth exist so well without bodies?” Gordon asked. “I mean, memory is stored in the brain. How do you retain your memory when you leave a body?”
“I can’t say how we do it,” said Ornias. “From having been inside a human body I can tell you that our souls are very different from yours. Ours are really only half soul, if you think about it. The other half is like the spirit of an angel, which functions independently. That’s why we’re able to take over a human body. The moment we gain control of the brain, the human soul starts to unravel. But we can exist anywhere in this world. I once met a Qliphoth who had ventured into a volcanic mountain in search of our fathers. Oh, there are many explorations taking place in the world outside this realm, just beyond the invisible barrier that separates the living from the dead.”
“What’s it like, going into and leaving a human body?” asked Gordon.
“It’s not as easy as you might think,” Ornias told him. “Of course, going in is easier than getting out, and it’s even easier if you’re on this side of the barrier. It’s best to stalk the body a while, until you find the best way in. Some get in through the mind. They get inside your head, so to speak. But in my experience, the easiest way in is through the blood. Once you’ve come in contact with a human’s blood, you’ve got a window into their soul.” He paused, as if not quite satisfied with this explanation. “Even so, getting into a body is like getting thick liquid through a straw. On this side of the barrier, it can be hard, but from the other side, it’s like trying to get that liquid through a straw packed with cotton.” He gave Gordon a knowing look before adding—“And yet it can be done.”
Gordon seemed to shudder. “And getting out?” he prompted.
“Getting out is extremely unpleasant…and problematic,” said Ornias. “We can expel ourselves with an incantation, but this can be excruciatingly painful. You probably noticed, when conjuring me, for example, how I struggled to stay in the body. Only part of this was me struggling against you. A soul will instinctively fight to remain in a body. It becomes deeply attached to the flesh it inhabits. It is a brutal act of self-torture to remove oneself, and I’ve heard of cases where Qliphoth have chosen to suffer through terrible diseases, electing to waste away slowly rather than to endure self-expulsion. And some don’t know how to do it. The most common way out of a body, I suppose, is to kill the body. But then again, with death, the Qliphoth goes back behind the barrier between our worlds, and it could be years before it’s able to get back here again, depending on how strong the Qliphoth is.”
“What happens to the human soul when the Qliphoth takes over its body?” asked Gordon. “Why do most of them die when the Qliphoth is removed?”
“I don’t know,” said Ornias. “It depends on the soul, I guess. They can’t leave the body until it dies. I know that because I can feel them there, watching. But then…it kind of dies out a little…that watchfulness. It kind of goes away.”
“I’m going to show you something,” said Gordon, holding up the two encrypted messages that were sent from the deceased Ethan Blevins to Asmodeous. “I want you to look at these very carefully and tell me if they mean anything to you.”
Ornias studied the messages for several long moments before shaking his head. “I can’t make heads or tails of either one of them,” he said.
“We believe one of them might be a formula for measuring electro-magnetic energy,” said Gordon. “Can you guess why someone might send Asmodeous this?”
Ornias shrugged. “I haven’t seen Asmodeous since the twenties, like I told you. But knowing him like I do, I can only guess that if he’s involved, it’s because he perceives some kind of threat to our existence.”
“He said as much,” said Gordon. “But what do you think he’s referring to?”
Ornias snorted. “It could be anything! There are all kinds of threats out there these days.” Then, as if something occurred to him, he suddenly turned to Will. “I could help you figure it out,” he said. “In fact, if you let me out, I guarantee I’ll figure out what that formula is.” He paused for effect. “I’m guaranteeing it,” he repeated, “and I can’t lie.”
“You figure out what the formula is,” said Gordon, “then we’ll consider letting you out.”
Chapter 22
Fort Greely, Alaska
If Amanda had possessed the ability to yawn, that’s exactly what she would have done. Initially, there had been the horror of it all to keep her alert and watchful. And too, there was a sense of unreality, combined with morbid curiosity, suspense and dread. What was the thing inside her going to do next? What would become of her?
But now it hardly seemed to matter. It was only mid-morning, but her life already seemed lost to her. She hardly recognized her world through these new eyes. Everything seemed to have changed. It was almost as if she were the imposter now.
The never ending static seemed to be draining the life out of her. And it made it difficult to comprehend what was happening around her. Who were these people she was smiling and nodding at? Was Amanda forgetting her former life already?
No, Amanda was pretty sure she’d never seen these people before. She hadn’t even been in this part of the base. She was standing outside, between two buildings, along with several other people—smo
kers, Amanda realized. Her lips had curved into a satisfied smile and her eyes had closed, as her head turned up toward the sun.
Suddenly a man emerged from one of the buildings. Only it wasn’t a man…it was a monster! It was a monster like the one inside Amanda—only different. Whenever the man’s eyes met hers directly, she saw it. For that instant his face would change; the top of his head seemed to become three times wider and two vicious-looking horns came out of his forehead. His eyes grew dark and his nose moved down to the bottom of his face, where it tapered off to a point. His skin appeared to be covered in short, coarse hair, like that of a goat. In fact, he bore a small resemblance to a ram, though his features were too extraordinary to be compared to anything belonging to this world. When he opened his mouth to speak, Amanda saw that he had a forked tongue.
The man who was really a monster handed Amanda a cigarette, which she slipped between her fingers and pretended to smoke. They spoke to each other in a foreign tongue. No; not foreign. Alien. The part of her that was still Amanda cringed at the sound, certain that it was never meant for human ears.
Amanda wondered if the monsters could be aliens. The creature within the man looked a little like the pictures she’d seen of aliens, except for the horns and the forked tongue, which would suggest an even more ominous presence.
They remained together for twenty minutes or more, speaking in the strange tongue. What were they talking about?
From there Amanda was taken back to her work station, where she found herself opening programs and scanning the information contained therein. She could barely keep up as her eyes darted over every inch of the data, moving much too quickly for her to comprehend what half of it was. For hours, her eyes whizzed back and forth over the computer screen, hardly stopping to blink, until Amanda gave up trying to understand what she was looking at.
Occasionally Amanda’s eyes would stop, and her head would turn toward the sound of someone approaching. When this happened Amanda would suddenly snap to attention in the hopes of seeing a friendly face, but it was always just a passerby, coming to, or from, their work station during a break. Then her head would turn back toward the computer again and her eyes would resume their relentless scanning, or searching, or whatever it was that they were doing.
Where was Tommy? What would he think when he saw her like this? Would he realize that she was different?
Maybe Tommy could help her! Maybe he would notice that something was wrong and know what was happening to her. Maybe this was somehow connected to the top secret project he’d been working on! She’d heard of U.F.O. sightings being covered up by the military. Maybe that’s what was happening here! Maybe an alien really had taken over her body—and who knew how many others? Each new ‘maybe’ buoyed Amanda’s spirits until she almost felt hopeful. She willed herself to hang on, fighting the urge to give in to the static and—what? What was it that was waiting for her beyond the static?
She clung to her memories of Tommy, pinning all of her hopes on his saving her from this fate worse than death.
Chapter 23
Long Island, New York
“We’ll consider letting you out?” echoed Clive once Gordon sent Ornias back into the ring. He pretended to consider it now. “Hmm…sure! Why not? Maybe we can even get him on the payroll.”
Gordon smiled sheepishly. “You have to admit that we’re getting some really good stuff from him!” he said, hardly able to contain his excitement. “What’s it been? Four…five hours? And look how much we’ve learned!”
“Again…” Will was quick to interject—“we’re not here to rewrite history.”
“This isn’t just history,” objected Gordon. “We’re getting an intimate look at the motives behind what they do.”
“We already know their motives,” said Will stubbornly.
“Not in this kind of detail,” argued Gordon. “Seriously, you don’t think we can use this—if not today, then some day in the future?”
“Just keep your head,” said Will, but in spite of these warnings, Nadia could tell that he, too, was intrigued by what Ornias was telling them. “Don’t forget that we’re way out on a limb here.”
“I know,” said Gordon. “But I can’t help feeling excited. All our history comes to us through a layer of bullshit—propaganda, prejudice, cover-ups and even downright lies. We can’t even get it right on stuff that happened a few years ago! You think American kids reading about the Iraq war are going to hear the truth about those W.M.D.s?”
Will appeared to be offended by this. “You know better than anyone how classified information…” he began, but Gordon cut him off.
“I really don’t want to debate the Iraq war with you again,” he said. “The point I’m trying to make is that these djinn are compelled to tell the truth. Sure, they’re telling it from their perspective, but it’s still more accurate than anything else we’ve got to go on. And their past is connected to our future. The end will justify the means!”
Nadia agreed with Gordon, though not entirely for the same reasons. Ornias’ story was like a soothing balm to her soul. It seemed to confirm that her father was not the monster they’d painted him out to be. Though his methods were certainly disturbing, it was beginning to look like he was trying to prevent something that was even worse. Even if he was wrong about that, at least his heart was in the right place.
And yet…the end of the world? Killing people now in order to bring about some future benefit? Wasn’t all this the stuff of extremists?
“I hope you’re right about that,” said Will. “In the meantime, let’s take a break. Who’s making lunch?”
It was mid-afternoon and Nadia was starved. “I think it’s your turn,” she informed him sweetly.
Will smiled at her. “Is it?” he asked, as if this was a surprise to him. They all just stared at him expectantly. “Okay, okay,” he conceded. “I’ve got it.”
Nadia turned to Gordon. “Do you mind if I use the computer first?” she asked.
“Be my guest,” he replied.
But Clive objected. “No fair!” he said. “I’ve got a gourmet dinner riding on this and you’re giving her the advantage.”
“I think I’m going to have to side with Nadia on this,” said Gordon. “I wouldn’t mind seeing you in an apron.”
“It’s your ass on the line too,” Clive told him. “She comes up with one little thing and we’ll never hear the end of it.”
Nadia gave Clive her prissiest smile as she perched herself in front of the computer. She signed into her business email account and scanned the latest emails for replies to her earlier inquiries.
“Hey!” she said, glancing at Clive. “Here’s something. Turns out I do know someone at HAARP after all.”
“Surprise, surprise,” mumbled Clive, as if he expected as much.
“It’s someone in their P.R. department,” she added.
“Someone in their P.R. department,” mimicked Clive. “Did you hear that Will?” he yelled into the kitchen. “Nancy Drew has just made contact with the next Deep Throat.”
“So you admit that HAARP could be covering up something!” exclaimed Nadia.
“Don’t put words in my mouth,” said Clive, coming up behind her to watch her work.
“Come on you guys!” complained Gordon, glancing up from his laptop.
Nadia typed out a casual message to her contact, asking if HAARP would like to participate in an upcoming charity event and requesting an interview with him about future projects.
“Not bad,” said Clive, reading over her shoulder. She just threw him a look and then scrolled through the rest of her emails. There was another one that caught her eye.
“Ah!” she said. “Here’s another person who may be able to help!”
“Who’s this now?” asked Clive. “Another spokesperson for another senseless charity? What’s the issue of the day…rich kids who can’t afford yachts? Yachts for tots?”
“No,” snapped Nadia. “He happens to be an aeronomis
t.” She turned to look at Clive over her shoulder. “That’s someone who studies the upper atmosphere…you know, as in the ionosphere.”
“Well, well,” said Clive, nodding at her appreciatively. “She stumbles into the ball field. Course, the field’s about three hundred miles thick and circles the entire planet but, still…it’s a start.”
Nadia typed another message, ignoring Clive. First, she thanked the man for his kind note about her father and then she asked if he would consult with some friends of hers who were working on a project that had interested her father as well. Clive watched—quiet for once—over her shoulder. Nadia sent the email and then scanned the rest of the messages in her inbox. She was disappointed to find that there were no more replies to her inquiries.
Nadia stood up. “It’s all yours,” she said sweetly.
“It’s about time,” Clive replied. “Now we can get some real work done.”
Nadia sat on the couch next to Gordon.
“It looks like we were right,” Gordon told her. “HAARP isn’t conducting research for the D.O.D. anymore. But T.D.M.R. is. ‘Course, we have no idea what they’re researching. There hasn’t been any real news on HAARP’s technology in more than a decade.”
“What’s that you’re reading about their towers?” asked Nadia.
“It gets kind of technical, but basically, the HAARP site says they only transmit up to thirty-six hundred kilowatts of power at any given time, using frequencies no higher than ten megahertz,” Gordon told her. “HAARP assures us that sending this amount of electromagnetic radiation into the ionosphere is safe. Maybe it is. But I found a patent that calls for three gigawatts of power to be transmitted at even higher frequencies.”
“So…what does that mean exactly?” asked Nadia.