Plane of the Godless

by Peter Hartz

  She drew closer, and, with a slight surge of magical strength, gained the ability to understand what was being said.

  “There is no God but Allah! You will not listen to the ravings of that Zionist whore. I do not care if she flew, or whatever else she did. She is no Goddess! You will be an obedient daughter-in-law, and do as I say! I will not tolerate your dishonorable tone to me or my son!”

  The son spoke up, somewhat timidly, “Father, she means no disrespect. But even you cannot deny what you have seen. She flew! We understood in our own tongue what she said as well any others here…” He broke off speaking as the Goddess approached from over his father’s shoulder, and his eyes got wide as he took in her glowing form, and the anger on her face.

  “Who has done this to you, my child? Why is your womanhood scarred so?”

  The father turned and saw the Goddess and swung his hand at her face as hard and fast as he could, catching her off guard. The slap impacted on her cheek with a loud SMACK. First the glow from her face turned red, then the white glow that emanated from the rest of her turned red as well.

  She reached out and grasped the throat of the man that had hit her, and she lifted them both off the floor, floating upward as the man’s hands tried in futile effort to break the hold of the hand that was slowly strangling him, his eyes bulging out.

  “Gods and Goddesses are forbidden to strike out at mortals,” she said with dark malice as the red glow turned so dark it was almost black in her anger. “However, there is one exception to the laws that limit a Deus from meting out punishment. That is when a Deus is struck first. It matters not if your intent was to harm or kill me, or just impertinence. I am freed to respond in any way I feel is just, including ending your life and trapping your soul in the Land of the Dead for all time.” The voice of the Goddess penetrated his anger and fear, and it would have caused him to lose control of his bladder and bowels (if he had not relieved himself very recently) even as it caused every fiber of his body to vibrate, and he hung limply in the grasp of the Being that had lifted him so easily some fifty feet in the air.

  “Given that there have been no true Gods, be they demigods, mid-gods, or the one true Greater God Sekur, to reach this plane in more than five thousand of your years, you did not know this. However, I can see in your memories that you have spoken these words to many of your fellow humans over the years before murdering them in the service of your religion: ignorance of law is no excuse.”

  She lowered herself back to the floor, still holding his limp but somewhat still conscious form by one hand. She then turned to the young man and his bride, and spoke to them in their own language.

  “Children, attend me. You must give me great reason to allow this worm to stay in your lives any longer, for his mortal life is forfeit for striking me.” They drew near, noses wrinkling at the smell of feces and urine that permeated the air surrounding the man.

  The legacy of abuse and neglect leaves scars, physical and emotional and psychological. Jaun had the misfortune of being born the son of a powerful, angry man. Jaun’s birth had been premature, and he had been small and weak, causing his father to give him a name that meant ‘nameless plant’ in his native language. The worst part of his life had been the impossible, never successful task of earning his father’s respect. Now he looked at the powerful being that literally held his father’s life and fate in his hands, and found he had nothing to say.

  Zahirah had known Jaun’s family for most of her life, and had not been surprised when her mother told her of the arranged marriage to Jaun, to be performed when she turned fifteen years old.

  Jaun had been a kind and gracious husband. He didn’t seem to have any of his father’s anger or bitterness, and was happy to just be with Zahirah. He was three years older, and tried every chance he got to be nice to her. But when his father was not around he had explained to her that he could only protect her if she didn’t talk to his father at all, unless he asked a question of her, which never happened. Even this time, Zahirah had not been talking to Saif al Din, only to Jaun. But Saif al Din had returned at that moment and heard her ask what she should believe about Anaradelle.

  Saif al Din Al-Hadrami was nothing if not a truly devout Muslim. To him, everyone knew the order of life was God, followed by His Holy Prophet Mohammed, then His True Children (which were those followers of Islam who were devout and chosen by God to cleanse the world of wickedness and sin, such as one Saif Al Din Al-Hadrami, of course), then animals, followed by insects, then worms, below which was dirt, followed by the offal of the world, with infidels several steps below whatever was next. And Anaradelle, no matter her Satan-given magic tricks that fooled weaker, lesser minds, was the greatest infidel he had ever seen. She was nothing more than the manifestation in the flesh of all western excesses and blasphemies.

  He saw then that he had failed to sufficiently educate his son’s young wife. It was not enough for Jaun to do it; no, in order for her to be worthy of his son, no matter how worthless the boy was, she must be taught what was right by one of The True Children of Allah. He was confident that these fools at this foreign temple to excess and sin built with wealth stolen from the coffers of the Righteous would never raise a hand to him. He was one of the True Children! But it must never do to give Satan an opportunity to thwart his holy and just duty, so he would administer the beating Zahirah so required later, back at the hotel room, with her face covered by a pillow so the screams of her weakness would not pass to the hallway or the other rooms. He would settle for remonstrating her in their native tongue.

  Except he lost his temper when the witch herself, that false goddess, walked up on them and interrupted him! The arrogance! He turned, and before he could stop himself, he lashed out at her. And everything he was taught about Allah was forgotten in an instant as she proved that she was no witch, no false Goddess with simple magic tricks meant to fool the weak-minded fools of this land of infidels.

  Now, as his mind reeled at the sheer, overwhelming force of her presence, he found no handle with which to grasp rational thought once again, as the terror of his situation consuming his entire mind.

  Zahirah spoke up, where her husband could not. “He is a righteous man of God. He is only doing what he must do to make me worthy of his son. I must have his teaching if I am to properly serve my husband, and not bring dishonor to my husband’s family and my father-in-law.”

  Anaradelle was surprised that the one in front of her defended the man who beat her and cowed her with his religion. She had never heard about Stockholm Syndrome before, but as she looked into the mind of the young woman, not much more than a girl, really, she saw that the young woman had been raised from birth to believe that this was her rightful place, as chattel of the son of a fool who worshipped a non-existent God.

  It was not enough to save Saif Al Din Al-Hadrami from his fate at the hands of the Goddess he struck, and she opened a gate to the Land of the Dead, before throwing him through it and closing the gate once more.

  “Child, I ask you again, who has harmed you so grievously in your womanhood, and why?”

  Zahirah hid her face, looking away from that pure visage, glowing white once more that her father-in-law was not here in front of them.

  Almost imperceptibly, she spoke once more. “It was my mother. It was done to make me a chaste woman, who would not get trapped by the glories of the flesh and descend into the base desires of a whore, and instead would be a good and faithful wife to my husband.”

  “I will not let this stand.” Anaradelle swept her hand forward, and a glowing green light came from her palm to wash over Zahirah’s body, erasing the scars and injuries of a lifetime in a desolate third world country. That act of healing included what was left behind by the act of ‘female circumcision’ that had been inflicted on one nine-year-old Zahirah by her mother’s hand, who received the same treatment from her mother at the same age. The mutilation was erased as if it had never happened before. The shocking act of the Goddess caused the you
ng woman to gasp as every part of her felt like a gentle breeze washed over her. Then the Goddess stood and spoke once more, and her voice carried once again to every human being on the entire planet.

  “The peoples of any tribe on this plane that practices barbaric acts on its children in the name of chastity and religion are unworthy of my favor. No children will be born to peoples who do these things for one hundred summers.” This pronouncement carried across the entire world as well, and the anger in that voice was clear. The ramifications of the message were not understood until sometime later.

  ◆◆◆

  The call from Sergeant Bradenton, who was a twenty year veteran of the Police Department, and someone that his fellow officers and superiors recognized as being not over emotional nor given to flights of fanciful speculation, caused some initial consternation. An Elven Queen and a Goddess at the country’s biggest indoor shopping mall? It was nowhere near Halloween, which brought a somewhat under control laugh from the officer that answered the call. Instead of calling for the boys in the white coats to visit the good Sergeant, he told him he would inform the chief. The chief of police, likewise, briefly considered a call to the psych ward, but the city center was only a short distance away, and the he decided that Bradenton deserved at least the consideration to investigate what was bothering one of his officers, so he walked to the Mayor’s office, and leaned in, knocking on the door frame to get the elected official’s attention.

  “Got a minute, Geoff?”

  “Sure, what’s up, Mark?” The mayor looked up and smiled. Geoff Smith and Mark Kaminski had developed a working relationship that probably would turn to genuine friendship once the mayor’s time in office ended. As such, they talked quite a bit, about everything city and job related, to just how completely they both disliked Green Bay Packers fans.

  “Well, Sergeant Bradenton called in and spoke with Captain Masterson, who came to me. Bradenton is out at the Mall right now, and he said he needs both of us to respond to a situation he is in.” Mark was not really sure he wanted to repeat what Andrew had said to him, and paused to try to figure out the best way to convey the message without undermining the veteran sergeant in the Mayor’s eyes.

  Geoff instantly turned his entire attention to his Chief of Police, and his entire body seemed tense and worried. “What’s happening over there?”

  “Well, I’m not really sure. Bradenton asked for you because he said there is a potential diplomatic situation that needs to be addressed that is above the pay grade of a police officer.” He paused again, and Geoff waited for him to continue for a moment, before speaking up.

  “We have no information on a high-ranking foreign head of state visiting the Mall, right? Did someone show up unannounced?” Geoff disliked doing dog and pony shows for foreign visitors, but hid that from everyone as much as possible. It would never be good to let everyone know that the Mayor was less than polite and politically correct, but he was pretty sure that Mark had figured it out.

  Mark sighed. “Nope, no one is on the schedule. Those usually get worked up in advance. This one, though, has me wondering if Andrew needs a vacation, or something. No, that’s not really fair to Bradenton. He’s a great officer, and I’m glad to have him under me.”

  “Well, then what is it?” The question could have come across as impatient, but Geoff wasn’t ‘that guy’, something that made him a very good person to work for, in Mark’s opinion.

  “He said there is an Elven Queen and a Goddess at the mall, and that he needs someone above him to take point on this. Frankly, I think we should go and see what is going on for ourselves. If Bradenton is having a bad day, we should help the good man out. Are you up for a short road trip?”

  Geoff tried not to let his jaw bounce off the desk in front of him, and could only stare for a few moments.

  “Do you have concerns about Sergeant Bradenton?” The question came out carefully, and Mark frowned as he considered it, before shaking his head.

  “I don’t really think so. Bradenton is a retired U.S. Marine, and saw combat on two tours in Afghanistan while in the Reserves. If he was going to come apart even a little bit, it would have happened then. I have seen no indications that he might be leaning in that direction. He is not on the list of people I would expect to be considering taking a break from reality.”

  “Oh, you have a list? Am I on it?” Geoff smiled slightly.

  “You were the reason I started the list, actually,” Mark said with a completely straight face, which drew a laugh from the mayor. Then he frowned when his police captain didn’t join in the mirth. “Wait, really?”

  Chapter 41

  As these things tend to happen when put together at the last moment, the entrance into the huge shopping mall by the mayor and chief of police of the city in which the mall was located was a hurried affair. Two extra patrol units, with two officers in each, were detailed to assist with any security needs that might arise, along with the already sizeable police presence in the mall itself. A few people here and there in the busy mall recognized the mayor as he and his police chief made their way to the food court to investigate the observations the good sergeant had related about forty minutes earlier, but for the most part, the trip by the two city officials was mostly unnoticed.

  The Queen had reacquired her gentle hold on Sergeant Bradenton’s arm in the time since he had made his phone call and returned to her to report his superiors were on their way. After an introduction to Karonashkk the Minotaur, she had walked with him to the edge of the floor area that overlooked the amusement park built into the center of the huge building, and had asked him question after question about the place, what the strange metal things were in the park and what they were used for, and many other questions, as quickly as she could think of them.

  Anaradelle had not been idle during this time, either. After healing Zahirah and Jaun, she had spoken with them both for a while, as a crowd of people (most with smartphones in hand recording the impossible event) that leaked past the containment the police and security guards were having trouble maintaining, gathered around them. She had no need for protection, and something about her kept the crowd of people from getting too unruly as they watched her move through them. She paused to touch some, murmuring blessings and healings on them as she went, while also stooping to pick up children and hug them, before returning them to their parents.

  The crowds were growing larger as word slowly spread throughout the huge mall that something unusual was happening, and people made their way to see what was going on. Before long, she decided, she would need to speak to these people, to tell them about her role in their lives, and what it meant to live in a plane where she was Deus of Life’s Mortal Path. First, though, she had much to learn about them, as they were so very different from every other group of humans she had ever found. Just this huge, magnificent building alone was enough to convince her of that. This would take some time on her part before she could start goading them in the right way.

  Geoff and Mark saw the gathering of police officers, Elven guards with staffs, and the Minotaur, and headed in that direction. The Queen was simply standing at the railing with her hand in the crook of Bradenton’s elbow as they approached.

  Mark led the way as they began to get closer, with Geoff standing a bit back to assess what was happening before he would enter the situation. Geoff shifted to his left, and suddenly got a good look at the Elven guardswoman standing there. His mouth dropped open as he looked into the non-human eyes of an elven warrior for the first time in his life, taking in the different eye color and the green-hued skin. Momentarily speechless, he didn’t know what to say, before bumping in to what he thought was a huge statue of a Minotaur, although how these people had managed to lug such a massive thing through the crowds to the food court was beyond his thinking—

  “Excuse me, good human. I apologize for being in your way.” The deep bass voice seemed to come from above him, and he looked up to see what he had just a moment before though
t was a statue staring down at him with a smile on its face and humor in its voice. He jumped back quickly, and started to stammer out some nonsensical words, when the massive creature spoke to him again, holding out one huge red-skinned hand.

  “I must be polite and introduce myself, good human. I am Karonashkk, protector of Queen Delara, Her Majesty of the Elven Throne. I greet you, and humbly ask your name, so we might be known to each other.” The smile continued after Karonashkk stopped speaking, but the hand out in offer of a handshake didn’t waver one bit.

  “Uhh, I, ahhh, I am Geoff Smith. I am the mayor of the city this mall is located in.” He offered his hand gingerly to the hugely muscled being in the kilt, and the minotaur took it in a warrior’s clasp forearm to forearm, shaking his hand gently, before letting it go.

  “It is an honor to meet a leader of these crafty humans. This place is an amazing thing to a simple protector such as I. How many men and women build this place, and how long did it take them?” He looked around with a huge smile on his face with a sweep of his left arm, before turning his smile back to Mark.

  “It took a few years to complete, and I know it took thousands of men and women to build it. This is the largest mall of its kind in this country, although there is a larger one in Canada, the country to the north of us, in Edmonton, Alberta.” He winced internally as he lapsed into tour-guide mode. Must be a defensive mechanism, he told himself.

  “This place is truly dazzling to me, good Geoff.” The conversation carried on for a few minutes as the mayor continued providing answers to the questions that the minotaur asked, amazed inside that he was having such a mundane conversation, the likes of which he had been in dozens of times before, with a being he had never conceived of meeting in his life outside the ancient books of Greece he had read in school a long time ago.