by Jasmine Walt
“Well, she is God.”
“So…” He looked around at the freeze-framed scene again. “Our work here is done?”
“Yeah, everything’s good.” I pressed my lips together in a slight grimace, then forged ahead. “Listen, I just wanted a quick chat with you before time starts up again.”
“Okay.” Tres blinked at me. He scratched at his temple. Then he put his hands in his pockets. “What’s up?”
“Things have just been so crazy the last couple of days, or hours, or however long it’s been, I’m not sure with the whole above the core and below the core time differences, and we haven’t had a chance to talk.”
I was babbling. And the silence stretched on. What the hell was wrong with me that it was difficult to talk to him? We’d known each other for millennia. Maybe that was the problem. We knew each other.
“Nia?” he said. “I’m not sure how time is working now, but I’m sure we don’t have a whole lot of it left before God finishes whatever she’s doing to make the world safe. What do you want to talk about?”
“Right. Speaking of Eden, I was just talking to her about rivalry and making mistakes and forgiveness.”
“Okay.”
“It’s just…”
“It’s just what, Theta?”
Tres reached out to me. His touch was so familiar, such a comfort. Had his touch always been this comforting? Had his voice always set me at ease?
It had. I was suddenly so sure. The time we’d been at each other’s throats, when we’d been enemies and not friends, when desire or guilt or shame had clouded our gazes, that had been a brief history of our time together. This was the natural state for the two of us.
“It’s just that I want us to be good too,” I said. “You and I got back into a good place. And it looks like you and Zane are on the mend. I just wanted to make sure we’re okay too.”
Tres smiled, eyes soft as he regarded me. He reached out again, wrapping his fingers around my bicep. It wasn’t proprietary. It wasn’t filled with heat. It was the most natural thing in the world.
“We’re fine, Nia.”
“Good.” I sighed. “We’ve had such a torrid past. Friends, at each other’s throats, at each other in different ways, enemies, dating, and now…”
“And now…” Tres glanced to where Zane stood frozen. “I’m assuming you’re back in a serious, committed relationship?”
“Yes.”
“And for good this time?”
My brows furrowed. The hairs above my eyes weren’t sure they liked his tone. I wasn’t sure I liked his tone, but I nodded.
“And your affections are beyond my reach?”
I yanked my arm out of his friendly hold. “They were beyond your reach before, and that didn’t stop you from chasing me.”
Tres’s amiable grin slipped. He pointed his index finger at me. “You let me catch you.”
We glared at each other. This was all too familiar. So ridiculously familiar that we both burst out laughing. Standing there in the center of a paused apocalypse.
“I don’t want to do this,” I said. “I don’t want us to be enemies again.”
“That’s not going to happen. It wasn’t necessarily your affection I was after.”
We both turned again to Zane. He stood frozen, embracing me even though I wasn’t there. Unaware that he was the current topic of conversation.
“He’s my brother.” Tres said. “And you took him away. Then he couldn’t take his eyes off you. And I’m competitive.”
“So, you admit you chased me,” I said.
“And caught you, I might add.”
I grinned, conceding the point.
“But I know I won’t have that with you,” he said. “It was different with us. What the two of you have is unique. It can only be between the two of you.”
“We could share him.”
“Oh, you don’t have a choice.” Tres grinned. “I’ve come to realize exactly how important family is recently.”
“Do we get to share you?” I asked.
“Absolutely.” Then he frowned. “Maybe separately at first. It is kinda weird right now. Our immediate past.” He motioned between us. “And our distant past.” He motioned between himself and Zane.
“Yeah. You’re right.”
“So…?”
“So, we’re good?”
Tres’s mouth split into a slow grin. Then he opened his arms. “Yeah. We’re good.”
I came into his arms. “I do love you, you know.”
“I know. I’ve always known. Just as I’ve always known that it would always be the two of you. I was so angry for years, centuries, because I wanted something like that for myself. I tried to take it from him. What I didn’t realize is that I’d have to take it from you too. I can build things people worship, things people want for all time, but no one has ever wanted me that way.”
I pulled away and looked into his eyes. There was a sadness there I’d never seen before. “She’s out there. The woman who’ll love you that way. I just know it.”
His downcast eyes focused hard on the ground, as though he didn’t dare look up.
“Maybe,” Tres said.
And then, as though he couldn’t help himself, his gaze flicked past me, past Zane, to someone else. Before I could follow the trajectory we were interrupted.
“Are you two finished with your little tête-à-tête?” asked Eden. “That’s French. I like the French language, so soft and delicate on the ears.”
“Yeah,” I said. “We’re good.”
“We’re good,” Tres confirmed.
I let go of Tres and slipped back into Zane’s arms. But instead of taking my former position with him at my back, I faced him.
There had been a time when I’d have to wait days, months to see him. There’d been a time when we had to fight technology just to speak to one another. Those days were over. I could hold onto him forever now without getting sick or disconnected or forgetful. So long as we made trips down to the core to shed our worldly skin, he would be mine forever.
I pressed my lips to his. Even though he was frozen, his heat, his warmth, the sense of forever in this stretched moment touched me. Tres was right. This was unique, the thing between Zane and me.
Time stopped again as Eden released her hold on the moment. Zane startled as I pressed our lips together. He instinctively brought me to him in a protective hold. But there was no longer any danger. He didn’t know and so he pulled me closer.
“We’re fine,” I said. “All is well.”
A blast came behind Zane as the tank exploded. When it did, not a single human remained in the street. I hadn’t watched Eden remove them all, but she had.
A cry of pain over my shoulder followed the blast. Zane switched our positions, placing me behind him.
Michael kneeled before Eden. The Elohim behind him were also on their knees, but they did it by choice. Eden had a hold on Michael, a hold he fought against and lost.
“Stop fighting,” she said. “It’s so unnecessary.”
“They’ll be the end of us all,” said Michael.
“If they are, then it’s my fault. They’re my responsibility. You all are.”
Eden looked out at the gathered Elohim on each side. She took in each of the Ishim. Then her gaze turned to the human witch and knights, as well, and she nodded with approval.
Her gaze found Michael’s once more. “I choose well. You led a third of the Elohim away from me. That takes true leadership.”
Michael bristled. I doubt he cared for the praise, especially seeing that his advancement had failed.
“Your vision was skewed,” said Eden. “You were trying to take us backward. Back to a world without a form. Back to the void. It’s you who have rebelled and become an adversary.”
Eden’s eyes filled with the soft, pale, flooded light of sorrow. And finally, Michael hung his head. Whether from guilt at what he had attempted or sorrow for not succeeding, I didn’t know. I didn’t parti
cularly care.
“We’ll talk when we get home and I give you your punishment,” Eden said.
“Oooh,” Bryn sing-songed. “You’re in trouble.” Her mother hushed her with a stern look.
“For now, I’ll put enmity between you and humanity.” Eden set her hand on Michael’s shoulder and shoved him downward. The earth beneath his knees opened and swallowed him whole.
“He should’ve been torn apart,” muttered Bryn. “I should be carting his soul back to the Halls of Valhalla.”
“Bryn,” said Eden, “we don’t kill everything that irritates or disagrees with us. That was Michael’s folly. That’s what communication is for.”
Bryn snorted in disbelief.
Eden turned to her daughter with a raised brow. That arched brow was the universal, unspoken mom language of Do not argue with me out in public, missy. Bryn held her tongue.
Eden chewed her lip like she was choosing her words carefully. “I haven’t done very much with you and your sisters in a while, have I?”
Bryn opened her mouth. By the look on her face, I got the feeling she was about to take issue with that a while and replace it with at all. But the Valkyrie’s lips curved in a different direction -in the downward direction of shut.
“That changes now,” said Eden. “Run home and tell your father I’m taking my girls for a mother-daughter weekend.”
Bryn’s eyes lit up. She reached for her mother, paused, then moved forward with her initial motion, flinging her arms around her. Eden’s large eyes widened slightly. She raised a hand and patted Bryn awkwardly on the back before Bryn let her go and took off.
Eden faced me. “How long is a weekend exactly?”
“It’s two days.”
Eden considered that and then nodded.
She faced the rest of the Elohim.
“I’m going to pay better attention to everyone.” But then she thought about it. “Well, there are an awful lot of you. Let me amend that. I think I’ll delegate better. Perhaps I’ll write down the instructions myself this time. You’ll help me with that, won’t you, Nia?”
25
Thump! Thump!
Everyone jerked and covered their ears as Eden flicked her finger on the microphone.
“Is this thing on?” she asked.
Screech. Garble garble.
Eden reared back. Her big eyes flashed fire-bright. Her palms filled with golden heat as she eyed the technology with suspicion and disdain.
Hestia hooked up the last connection of the live feed to broadcast across the entire planet. Now everyone would have the message from God, direct from her lips. The Greek goddess had also set up a share site on the internet so the message would last for all lifetimes, or as long as the World Wide Web stayed intact.
The television screen went from black to bright white light. Eden was so bright you couldn’t exactly see her face. She looked more like a figure in the spotlight.
The park remained empty, except for the few Elohim who remained. Most had returned to the core, namely Michael’s contingent, awaiting their punishment once Eden was done with her directive to the creation above ground.
The parking lot where the short-lived battle for humanity—or against humanity, depending upon which side you were on—remained empty as well, though a few headlights and cellphone cameras flickered. No one dared come closer to the action with all the abandoned military vehicles in the way. I still had no idea where Eden had deposited the army.
“Now, children,” Eden began. “Let’s try this again.”
She paused and looked around at those who remained by her side. Well, we weren’t by her side. We were in front of her or behind her. Out of the way, but close by in case she needed a hand with the alien tech.
Only the Elohim who were parents and their children remained on the surface. Rhea and Cronus gathered around their children. All but Hera cast a wary eye on their father. Hunahpú and Xbalanqué were surrounded by their pack, some on human legs, others on four.
Gabriel stood to the side watching the proceedings, his attention on Eden. He hadn’t come near me since he’d stepped in Michael’s path to protect me.
“Children are blessings,” Eden spoke into the microphone. She took in a deep, unnecessary breath and let it out. “I know that because I am your mother.”
Her eyes roamed all her creations before her. The weight of her gaze settled into my heart like an anchor that had reached its home port after many years. Then she looked up at the blinking red dot of Tia’s camera. I felt the same weight in the air and was certain that every human, every animal, every blade of grass on the surface felt it too.
“You are each my heritage and my reward. You are not servants unto me, you are me. You are from my very light.”
From the center of her chest, Eden’s light shone even more brightly. It was hard to keep my gaze trained on her. Those watching around the world were likely seeing a white-out. But the smile on her face and feeling in her voice rang true and clear.
“Woe to those who call evil good and good evil, who put darkness for light and light for darkness. There is no such thing as good and evil. There is only life, and it is precious.”
A single tear formed in one of her large eyes. At least I think so. It evaporated before it ventured past her eyelid, swallowed back into her essence.
“The only sin on this green Earth is causing death. My message is that you all live. My instruction is that each of you be fruitful and multiply. My prayer is that you learn to trust the light inside you. When you do that you will hear my voice and know that I am the way.”
Her light cooled as she spoke. She brought it back into herself. What remained were her abnormal, barely human features. Her overlarge eyes that didn’t need to blink. Her tipped ears that curved around the side of her face. Her bald head with the intricate network of raised nodes.
She was the most beautiful thing I’d ever seen in the world. My heart was full at her words, my spirit light.
“Go toward the light,” Eden said. “That is all the instruction you need. Good luck, humanity. I will be watching.”
The feed cut and plunged the rectangular box into darkness. We all stared at Eden for a long moment of silence. She looked up from the camera, eyes wide with inquiry.
“How did I do?” Eden asked.
No one had any words. For me, it had been like attending one of those self-help conventions where people come in down on their luck and leave with dreams of taking on the world, their pockets lighter from the confidence game.
But Eden was no con man. She was the real deal. And if humans only heeded her words, this world, their world, would be a better place.
“They’ll likely screw it up,” said Hestia as she wrapped cables from the makeshift studio set around her arm. “But that’s humanity.”
Eden rose from her seat in the spotlight and made her way toward me. She reached for my hands. I gave them to her. Her palms were warm, but she didn’t show me anything from the past. I could tell her attention now was directed toward the future.
“I want you to keep up your work on the surface,” she said. “Document it all—the good, the bad, and the ugly. Especially the ugly stories.”
I inhaled through my nose. So, I would keep my job as record-keeping Ishim. She would probably ask that I return to the core in another few millennia so she could download my memories and judge humanity anew. Once again, not bothering to get her hands dirty.
“I want an accurate accounting when next I come to visit,” Eden said.
I gaped. “Come? Up here and visit?”
She nodded. “With your help, I’ll be able to see what improvements have been made and what we still need to do to get these children on a sustainable path.”
All I could do was nod. We stood there eyeing each other for a moment. Eden’s face screwed in uncertainty as she regarded me.
“Would you like a hug?” she asked. “My daughters seem fond of them. Their father indulges them.”
&nb
sp; “I would,” I said. “I’d like that very much, if you don’t mind.”
Eden opened her arms. I stepped into them. I wrapped my arms around her lithe body. She felt like a fire in the winter, that spot in the center of the bed before the alarm goes off. She may not do hugs a lot, but she was awesome at them and I felt privileged to get one of the rare events.
But all too soon she pulled away from me. “Come and visit me every couple of centuries for a chat. We’ll make a weekend of it.”
“I’d like that,” I said.
She turned to go. But then turned back, her brow lifted once again in uncertainty. “Incidentally, what exactly should occur during a mother-daughter weekend?”
“Oh,” said Loren, raising her hand. “I can help with that.”
Loren looped her arm through Eden’s and walked off in the distance. I heard the words chocolate cake, spa treatments, and male strippers. Honestly, yeah, that about covered it.
With Eden in good hands, I came face to face with my father.
“Hi,” I said.
Gabriel nodded.
We both stood there awkwardly for a second. He looked at my shoulder. I looked beyond him at the gate.
“Thank you,” I tried. “For, you know, saving me from your homicidal brother.”
“Michael is not my brother. We did not share a womb.” Gabriel pressed his lips together into a thin line. “But there is no need to thank me. You are my progeny. We share the same light. Protecting you is akin to protecting myself.”
Gabriel frowned as he said the words, as though he wanted to retract some of them. And then his frown screwed into frustration, as though he didn’t know what he’d replace the words with.
“I’m proud,” I said. “I’m proud to be a part of you. It’s an honor to share your light.”
Gabriel stood stiff. Then he looked uncomfortable as he tried to loosen his limbs. It was clear he was unused to dealing with emotion of any kind, be it anger, gratitude, or praise.
“I have spoken with Eden. The door will remain open,” he said finally. “So that you may visit Vau any time you’d like.”
That made my heart sing. To see Vau anytime I wanted. And maybe even nose around a bit in Eden’s lab.