Incarnations of Immortality

by Anthony, Piers

  "God help me," she whispered brokenly, "for I do love Satan."

  "And I love you," Satan said. "I offer you the world."

  "But what I say is the truth," Orb protested weakly. "What you say is a lie."

  "Perhaps," he agreed. He extended his hand to her. "I ask you again, Gaea: will you marry Me?"

  Orb fought, but her heart had betrayed her. She knew Natasha for what he was, for the Incarnation of Evil, but she did love him and wanted to be with him in all the ways that love might dictate.

  Slowly her hand moved out to meet his. "I will," she breathed, half sobbing. Was she doing this for the benefit of the world or from selfishness? Was she already moving into his orbit of evil?

  Satan held the hand, captive to his success, and faced the others. "Does anyone object to our marriage?" No other Incarnation spoke.

  "Then we shall hold the wedding at this moment, in Hell," Satan said. "All of you are invited, as honored guests and witnesses, together with any others who wish to attend. I welcome your participation and support. There shall be no question about the legitimacy of this union."

  "This moment will not occur for several days, considering my action," Chronos said.

  "Precisely," Satan said. "We shall all return to the time just before Gaea invoked the Theme of Chaos. None of this will have happened, and our memories of it will fade. But the agreement has been made, and all of you are party to it. It will be honored."

  "It will be honored," Chronos agreed.

  "My objection to your action is withdrawn," Satan said. "We are now unanimous. The world shall be spared the ravage of the Theme of Chaos. Proceed with your action."

  Chronos raised his hand, and the Hourglass appeared in it, expanding to greater prominence. The sand within it brightened, flowing in its thin stream between the chambers. The sand turned blue.

  Orb was alone on the isle, mulling her situation. Her anger and grief and confusion prompted her to do what she knew she should not: sing the Song of Chaos.

  Chronos appeared. His shining Hourglass held a fine ribbon of sand that was turning from blue to red. "Gaea, you must not do it," he said.

  Orb was startled. "What?"

  "Do not invoke the Theme of Chaos," he said. "It will destroy the world. Do you remember?"

  Orb remembered. "The next few days-all my friends, all the world-gone! Is it a vision?"

  "A vision, now," he agreed. "A reality that has been abrogated. Instead, you must marry Satan."

  "Marry Satan!" she repeated, outraged. But then she remembered that, too. "I-agreed," she said. "I love him."

  "You agreed to marry him so that the world could be saved. Now you must carry through the agreement you made. Only because of this am I permitted to change the course of history. Do you understand?"

  "Everything is undone?" she asked. "My friends-?"

  "The world is untouched."

  The relief was immense. "I must marry Satan," she said.

  Chronos nodded. He disappeared.

  Orb gazed again across the sea. She sighed. "Satan," she whispered.

  He appeared. "You have decided?"

  "I will marry you."

  "You remember?"

  "As in a vision. But it stands. You gave me back the world, and I will marry you."

  "Is that all?"

  She looked at him. He was tall and fair and comely, the picture of the man she had known as Natasha. "How is it that you have no horns or tail, now that your masquerade is off?"

  "This is My true form," he said. "My true mortal form, fixed as it was when I assumed the office. My true form as the Incarnation of Evil is as you describe. Both are valid. But this is the one I prefer to use with you. Is that the extent of what you have to say to Me?"

  "I love you." He might be the creature of lies, but she had to tell the truth. Satan smiled. "This is what I wished to hear, Gaea. May I embrace you?"

  "You have to ask?"

  "Yes, this first time. There must be no coercion." No coercion! But how could she protest? "You may embrace me, Satan."

  He took her in his arms, and she thrilled to his touch, even knowing him for what he was.

  "May I kiss you?"

  She wished she could claim that she detested this, that she was only acting a necessary part, but she could not. She desired Satan's kiss. "You may."

  He kissed her, and she felt the same passion for him she had before, despite her self-reproval.

  "May I-"

  "Not until after the wedding," she said.

  He laughed, she laughed, and it was good, in spite of everything. She did want to marry him, heedless of all that portended.

  "Am I damned, Satan?" she asked.

  "An Incarnation cannot be damned. But even if you remained mortal, your damnation is determined only by your motives and your actions. Are you marrying Me for the good of the world?"

  "Yes. But also because I love you."

  "Neither the good of the world nor love will damn you."

  "But my power added to yours-I am contributing to your capacity for evil!"

  "Would you love Me less if I exercised that increased capacity?"

  "I-I think I would have to."

  "Then I will not exercise it."

  "But how can I believe you?"

  "You can not trust My words, but you can see My actions. Through them you will know that I love you."

  "How I wish it could be so!"

  "You shall believe," he said. "In time."

  She was afraid he was right.

  The wedding was a phenomenal production. This section of Hell was like a monstrous cathedral, with a domed ceiling that reached up so high that there seemed to be clouds drifting within it. Great arches enclosed the main chamber, ornamentally carved with exquisite taste. Stained glass was prevalent, its pictures illustrating scenes from earthly mythologies.

  There was a dais in front, with seven elaborate chairs in a semicircle, each of carven ebony invoking aspects of the office of a particular Incarnation. One was in the likeness of a skeleton, with the legs shaped into the seat and arms into armrests and the skull into a headrest. Another was like a large wicker hourglass. A third was fashioned like a spider, the legs paired to form the enclosure for the occupant. Another seemed to be a huge red sword and scabbard. Another was like a tree, its branches twining about to form the appropriate shape.

  At the ends of the semicircle were two larger chairs. One was decorated with representations of pitchforks and the faces of demons; the other with halos and angel faces.

  Orb noted these details with a certain detachment; she was standing at the back in her wedding gown, awaiting the onset of the ceremony.

  Suddenly the benches in the main section were filled: all the people Orb had known in life were there, including many who had died long ago. Childhood playmates, teachers and casual acquaintances; adult associates, friends, relatives, and those she had interacted with in however minor a manner. Everyone she had encountered, ever.

  She wanted to go out and talk with them, for she saw her father Pacian and others who had been long gone from her life. But she could not; she was the Bride, and had to play her part in the ceremony. Probably many were illusion, anyway; would God release her father from Heaven to visit a function in Hell?

  The Incarnations entered and took their seats: Thanatos, Chronos, Niobe as Fate, Mym as Mars, and Satan. The seat for Gaea was empty; Orb could not be in two places at once, on this occasion.

  The seat reserved for God remained vacant. He had been invited, but did not intervene in the affairs of mortals or immortals. In any event. He was unlikely to support the merger that would shift the balance of power away from Him. Orb found herself feeling sorry for God. If only, just this once, He would, Would what? Rain fire down on this ceremony, preventing the marriage? That certainly was not His way! Yet if he did not act, all else would become academic; the final power would no longer be His.

  And if He did act, where would Orb be? She had agreed to this, knowing
the consequence.

  The great chair sat mute. Was God even paying attention? If only He would give some sign! Mym rose from his chair and walked down along the side of the chamber.

  It began. A choir appeared, children-no, small demons arranged by height, each in a white robe and holding a songbook. They sang-and the sound in any other setting would have been deemed angelic. Orb had never heard a mortal choir sing so perfectly; every note was precise, every part perfect.

  There was a motion in the choir. Something odd was occurring. Orb peered down the aisle and saw what it was:

  Individual demons were fading out and being replaced by others, who sang as perfectly, so that the song was not interrupted.

  Mym appeared. "Are you ready, Orb?" he asked.

  "The usual. Butterflies in stomach," she said, smiling bravely. "What is happening with the choir?"

  "They are singing angelically," Mym explained. "That is not healthy for demons."

  "They are being abolished?" she asked, horrified despite her lack of sympathy for the creatures of Hell. "For singing well?"

  "Ordinarily a demonic creature cannot be angelic in any sense. But for this occasion there is a special dispensation. When they perform in a manner that is better than their limit, they cease being demons and become the next stage up: damned souls. They fade out, being unable to remain in the demon choir. Others come in, eager for their chance."

  "So Satan really is being decent?"

  "So it seems," Mym said. "Everything has been absolutely straight. He doesn't want any objection to this wedding, no quibble, no technicality that might invalidate it."

  "Why are you participating, if you don't approve?"

  "We did make a deal, and you deserve any support we can provide." She laughed, somewhat shakily. "I suppose we should get on with it." She took his arm.

  They walked down the aisle, exactly as in her early vision. The music swelled, but not into the conventional bridal melody. They had decided on a different approach.

  Satan walked in from the side and turned to await her arrival. Light shone down on him. He was the most handsome figure of a man she had ever seen. Whatever coercion he had used to bring her acquiescence to this union-and her memory of that and everything else that had occurred during the vision-interim was fading-had been largely unnecessary. She loved him and wanted to marry him.

  When she reached the dais, Satan took her hand. Mym went to take the chair reserved for Mars. They turned together to face the guests.

  "Gaea and I have elected to make our vows in song," Satan said. He smiled. "There has been a question which of us is the better singer. That question shall now be resolved. The superior singer will be the one whose love for the other is greater. You will be the judges."

  He turned to Orb. Her harp appeared in his hand. He bowed to her and held it out. "I yield the first performance to you, the first woman I have truly loved."

  Orb took the harp-and almost dropped it. It was her own; she could not mistake that. But how had Satan, the Prince of Lies, been able to handle it? Not only that, he had said he loved her, while holding it. Satan was of course far too powerful an entity for the harp to hurt, but the conflict should have destroyed the harp-if Satan were lying.

  She could not pause to consider this at this moment; it was her turn to sing. Satan had gone to his chair. She had the stage.

  She sat on the floor, bridal gown and all, and set up the little harp. No problem now about how much leg might be showing; the gown was so voluminous it covered everything and more! She played a chord, then started.

  She sang the Song of Evening, the aspect of the Llano concerning love. There were no words to it, but they hardly mattered: the theme itself was the statement.

  The sunset came to the cathedral, bringing out the preternatural color of dusk and the grandeur of the sun behind clouds. She saw the members of the audience staring raptly and knew that they had never in their lives heard a more evocative song than this. The power of love infused the assembly and transformed this section of Hell itself with its delight, comfort, and passion. Orb was truly in love, however unwisely, and this was the expression of that love.

  There was a hush when she finished like that of fulfilled love. Orb had not done this in any competitive spirit, but as the most honest expression other feeling, but she knew that there was no way that even Satan could match it.

  She got up and went to the chair reserved for Gaea. Satan rose and came forward. He had no instrument; all he had ever used was his voice.

  He sang, a cappella-and Orb received another shock. He was singing a hymn! How could that be? It was one of the few things Satan could not do.

  "Amazing grace, how sweet the sound, That saves a wretch like Me. I once was lost, but now am found Was blind, but now I see."

  Orb listened, mesmerized. This was the hymn "Amazing Grace," exquisitely rendered. She had thought that there was no way Satan could match her presentation of the Song of Love, but he was going into a type of song that exceeded it: a song of the love of God. Yet this was impossible, by definition.

  He began the second stanza-and now the demon choir joined in as background. What had been beautiful became transcendent. Orb suspected that no angels in Heaven could have sung more angelically than this. Indeed, the flickering in the choir intensified, indicating that the strain was too much; no demon could sing this way for more than a moment without losing its definition.

  As he sang, Satan turned to face Orb. His gaze sent shivers of heat and chill running through her; his aspect and his voice were totally persuasive.

  "'Taws grace that taught My heart to fear, And grace My fears relieved;

  How precious did that grace appear The hour I first believed."

  Satan was a liar, indeed the Prince of Lies. The truth was not in him. Yet Orb found herself unable to doubt his sincerity now; he was addressing her, and when he sang "grace" she heard also "love." He did love her as she loved him; there was no other way it could be.

  How could the Lord of Hate love anyone or anything except power? Perhaps that was the explanation: it was the power inherent in the office of the Incarnation of Nature that Satan truly loved. She was fool enough to love him, and he loved what he stood to gain by his alliance.

  Satan turned back to the guests as he sang the next stanza, and they seemed as rapt as was Orb herself. What Satan was doing was impossible, yet he was doing it. The demon choir was flickering so rapidly that it seemed unreal. Satan himself seemed to be developing a glow.

  Could this be another vision? That would account for the effects; Satan was not really singing a hymn, not really uttering words that were forbidden to him. It was all a dream, crafted for maximum effect.

  But if this were the case, the wedding was not valid. That was where the notion foundered. Satan might fool her into believing she had married him and, in that manner, have his will of her in any way he chose. But he could not fool the other Incarnations: not Chronos, who had lived through future history; not Fate, who was her mother; not Mars, who had loved her. They would not accept the marriage unless it was real; and if they did not accept it, the alliance was suspect. It had to be real for Satan to achieve his purpose.

  This ran through her mind as she listened, entranced. Satan was doing what he could not do, and she believed it, and the guests and other Incarnations believed it. Perhaps there was no proper explanation. Meanwhile, her doubts had run their course and faded like mist; she believed the Prince of Lies and she loved the Lord of Hate.

  The choir flickered into nonexistence; all the available demons had been upgraded to the status of damned souls. For the final stanza, Satan sang alone. He turned again to Orb, and the glow about him intensified. He had become godlike in the nobility of his countenance. He met her gaze and sang with an earnestness that transfixed her.

  "Must Jesus bear the cross alone And all the world go free?"

  The light about him became so bright that it resembled flame. Orb's eyes were smarting from the effo
rt of looking at him. What was happening to him?

  "No, there's a cross for everyone And there's a cross for Me."

  As Satan concluded the hymn, the light turned blinding. Orb squinted, then blinked-and he was gone!

  She lurched to her feet. "Satan, my love!" she cried. "Where are you?"

  Mym stood. "He is gone, Gaea," he said.

  "But-"

  "He was doomed the moment he took up his cross. He knew it, but he had to do it. He has left you at the altar and given you back the world."

  "What cross?" she asked, horrified.

  Niobe stood and walked toward Orb. "The cross of his true love for you," she explained.

  "Then he wasn't lying," Orb said. "He really did-"

  "He really did, dear. He knew he could never truly marry you, but he had to come as close as it was possible to do. To love you, to have your love in return, and to complete the vows of marriage. But you are now a widow."

  "The glow-" Orb said, numbed.

  "It was the brightness of the redeemed souls being released from Hell. He could no longer hold them, once he invoked the forbidden song. He truly loved you, as he had never loved before, and he gave up everything for you."

  Orb looked at the empty chair that had been reserved for God. Had God really elected not to attend? Surely He had known...

  Then the magnitude of her own loss struck Orb. She fell into her mother's arms and sobbed with her private heartbreak.

  "Not too much, dear," Niobe murmured. "When you cry, Gaea, the world cries with you."

  Indeed, it was raining throughout the world. But no damage was being done, and in time the sunshine would return. Now it was time for her to learn the office she had assumed and so far neglected-to concentrate on being a Green Mother.

  End of Anthony, Piers - Incarnations of Immortality.

  Satan - For Love Of Evil (1988)

  Chapter 1 - PARRY

  There was a knock at the door, so hesitant as to be almost inaudible. Parry opened it.

  A girl stood without, huddled and childlike. Her flowing honey hair was bound back from her face by a fillet: a narrow band of cloth that circled her bare head. Her frightened eyes seemed enormous, the irises gray-green. "I am Jolie," she whispered, her hands making a tentative gesture toward her bosom.