A Covenant with Death: The Peacock Trilogy - Book 3

by Bill Wetterman

  “Of course,” a sweet but mechanical voice replied.

  “Lee. Here. What’s the problem?”

  “One minute I’m talking to Gus about a mechanical malfunction, the next minute his clothes are on the floor, and he’s gone.”

  “What have you been drinking?”

  “Seriously?”

  “Hold on. My control board’s lighting up,” Director Lee said. A moment later he returned. “I need to go. Two-thirds of the crew’s missing.”

  The supervisor spoke to the computer. “Where is Gus?”

  The sweet mechanical voice replied, “Gus is no longer aboard.”

  “What the hell?” He called for George Pendleton.

  After a few seconds, a female voice answered George’s phone. “Ah, hello?”

  “Who is this?” the environmental supervisor asked.

  “I’m Laura with the maintenance staff,” the voice said. “I came around a corner in Living Quarters Corridor B and found a communications device on the floor along with a full set of clothes. Somebody is going to be a bit chilly.”

  Chapter 35

  “Director Chui,” Regional Manager Xi said, panic rustling in his voice. “We’ve lost contact with George Pendleton on Mars Colonization Vessel 1.”

  Chui raised an eyebrow. “Our relationship with the former Pendleton regime is over. Sad to say. A great loss. But we have the codes for the rockets and the capabilities to send crews to the Space Station. So although I wish George well, our priorities have changed.”

  “Director,” the man stood at attention, “there are reports of vast numbers of missing individuals.”

  “Explained by the shuttles, Xi.” Chui pushed back in his chair. “Downplay any speculation to the contrary.”

  Xi doesn’t understand the use of misinformation, Chui thought. Too young to remember the old days of altering the facts on purpose to have them line up with the ruling party’s version of them. The people didn’t need to concern themselves about anything except the ultimate defeat of Ammad al-Sistani.

  Already Chui’s manufacturing complexes were full speed ahead on military production. Whatever evacuation plan George pulled off, Chui gave no credence to rumors of the supernatural.

  “Get me an update on the whereabouts of Ammad,” he said, and Xi left.

  There could only be one ruler of the world. He checked his Eastern Regional Master Computer. Running perfectly. Everything his region needed was being supplied from the Eastern Regional World Control Center even with the Christian population gone. Armed, fed, and with a purpose, his armies would one day cross the Urals to the west and the Euphrates to the south and sweep to the gates of Rome and Jerusalem to defeat Ammad and rule the world.

  The Americas would bow to the winner, and they had no love of Ammad the Vicious in any case. Time. He needed a few years, six at the most, and his military would be unstoppable. Chui tapped his fingers together. Good luck, George Pendleton.

  #

  Atash Akbari held his master’s hand. Three days had passed since the redheaded-witch struck down Ammad with her knife. He had not left Ammad’s bedside.

  “Awaken master,” he repeated again and again to no avail.

  Crowds gathered outside Holy Spirit Hospital in Sassia, the oldest hospital in Europe located a few kilometers outside Vatican City. A general unrest grew, sparked by worries over the disappearance of the millions of Christians who had not yet boarded the shuttles. Muslim and Jewish authorities now in power outside Chui’s region declared otherwise to no avail. The official line was most Christian believers left with the shuttles and many of the others converted to Islam and stayed.

  Who would be First Citizen if Ammad died? Was he already dead? Rumors of Pendleton’s wife being the attacker stirred tales of a Christian conspiracy to bring Arthur Pendleton back into power.

  “You must reassure the people,” Rabbi Levinson pleaded with Akbari. Levinson had traveled to Rome from Jerusalem to be of assistance. “Many fear Ammad is dead, and Chui is about to attack us.”

  “I can’t leave him. I won’t leave him.” Akbari turned to the rabbi without letting go of Ammad’s hand. “You speak to the Global media. Tell them Ammad is resting peacefully and forgives his attacker.”

  #

  A reluctant Levinson exited the hospital and addressed the world. He tried to appear upbeat, but from what he’d seen, only life support kept Ammad alive.

  “The First Citizen asks me to reassure the world he is recovering.” Lying caused him discomfort. He folded his hands behind his back. If Ammad was conscious, he’d want to reassure everyone he was fine. So the lie was justified.

  “He wants you to know he forgives his attacker and wants nothing more than to bring peace to all mankind, Christian and Jew, Muslim and Hindu, Buddhist and those considered pagans by some.” Now he adlibbed, and that seemed to sooth his conscience.

  The clouds gave a dreary appearance to the sky—low hanging with no hint of thinning. And the humidity stifled breathing. Levinson’s sweat trickled down his neck, even with the temperature at 15 degrees Celsius.

  “In his absence, his appointed Second-in-Command, Atash Akbari, will act in the First Citizen’s place. There will be no gap in decision making.”

  Levinson was about to conclude his statement when the front doors of the Holy Spirit Hospital in Sassia burst open. A crowd of Ammad’s supporters raced out the doors shouting about a miracle. A bright green glow lit up the hospital entry. Behind them Akbari led Ammad out and down the ramp to where Levinson stood. Levinson’s jaw dropped and he handed Ammad the microphone. As he did, the cloud vanished and the sun shone brightly above.

  “A cowardly attack struck me down.” Ammad held up the knife and showed the clotted wound in his head. “I know I died. But the Divine raised me up from the dead. He has dealt with those who opposed me. He will deal with anyone who thinks to cause division in the future. I am a man of peace. Obey the rules and you will have nothing to fear.”

  As Ammad spoke, chills filled Levinson even as the weather warmed him. Rabbi Shamir, whose full name meant “a rock of the faith”, had told him. “Ammad is a descendant in spirit of Antiochus IV Epiphanes, who roasted a pig in the temple. He thinks he is God. Do not trust him. Evil surrounds him. He will show you signs and wonders from the old arts of the Persians.”

  Had he made a mistake aligning with Ammad for the cause of the Temple?

  #

  Three days later

  Ammad polled his inner circle. The question was where to set up his permanent government. Twelve other Imams plus Imam Akbari wrote their selections on their ballots and folded them. Akbari collected the papers and put them in a bowl, setting the bowl in front of Ammad.

  “One of my guards found the Pope’s robes and shoes in the parking garage by the Palace of the Holy Office.” He tapped the bowl he’d been given against the table. “I never had the opportunity to convince him to support me.”

  “What do you think happened to him and others who are missing?” asked the oldest Imam with the long white beard.

  “A demonic, supernatural event.” Ammad rose to his feet and leaned forward. “As to what we say to the masses?” He shrugged. “Those who vanished either left for the Mars mission or they’re in hiding, meaning to do future mischief.”

  “They’re hiding naked then.” The old man pointed a finger at Ammad. “To the world, you appear to have risen from the dead. But you said something that disturbs me. You used the term, the Divine, not Allah. Nor have I heard you speak Allah’s name in our last few meetings.”

  Ammad’s chest tightened, as did his fists.

  “So who is this entity you serve?”

  “I serve the Divine who gives me power.”

  His pointed his finger back at the old man, who turned a ghastly gray, fell off his chair, and died. Ammad kicked the old man’s body.

  “So now you understand.”

  Epilogue

  Donna O’Connor gazed into the eyes of Jesus, her sa
vior. He spoke to her in joyful thoughts that sounded like the voice of a heavenly orchestra. Even the difficult things he said had comfort within them. How long he spoke? Impossible to tell. Then he stood, lifted her up, and smiled the most joyous smile she had ever seen. The next instant he was speaking to another, and Custos was by her side.

  “We are preparing to end the plague that destroys the earth.” He took her hand and guided her through the Gates of Heaven. “Behold your temporary home.”

  Her eyes widened. Then she looked up at him. “Temporary?”

  “If you remember, there will be a new Heaven and a new Earth. These things are yet to come.”

  “How could anywhere be better than here?”

  Space and distance had no meaning. The Throne of the Father, the Sea of Glass, the choirs of angels and saints singing were at the same time near and far away, depending on her will. Voices greeted her. Family surrounded her, Arthur, Connor, George, and Harry. Her parents also stood by with arms outstretched. She thought to ask forgiveness, yet knew forgiveness was granted. This would take getting used to.

  In what seemed an instant, she had spoken to and heard from everyone in her life who dwelled in heaven, whom she had known on Earth. She’d asked her questions, answered those asked her, and resolved all issues. Joy and peace filled her heart.

  Custos reappeared next to her. “Once the All-In-All arrives, and God and Man dwell together on the New Earth, you will be given the desires of your heart. There are other universes to explore and creations to see. Beings to help and things to learn that the beloveds of God need to know. Eternity is a busy place.”

  “Until then, what do I do?”

  “Praise the living God. Rejoice with your family and friends. Spend time in your home, a mansion you earned while on Earth.”

  “What mansion?”

  “Behold.”

  A multicolored structure rose up to greet her. Custos escorted her inside. Hues she’d never seen on earth dazzled her mind. The rooms and furnishings were solid yet transformable at the same time. Chairs adjusted to her body as she moved. Walls gave way for her to pass through. Each room had a view of God’s throne and other heavenly places where she could step through and arrive at a different spot.

  She needed no sleep. Food presented to her was delicious and provided for enjoyment, not nutrition. All she had to do was think about where she wished to be, step out of the room she was in, and she was there. On her first visit to see Arthur, she realized physical sex was inferior to spiritual connection. A simple hug, more satisfying than anything the moral body could experience. Heaven in fact was heavenly.

  Every moment a part of her spirit sang with the heavenly host. “Worthy are You, Our Lord and our God, to receive glory and honor, and power.”

  Custos appeared to her saying, “Come. Follow the King of Kings and Lord of Lords as He pours out His wrath upon the rebellious on the Earth.”

  “Already? Is it time?”

  She reached out her hand and shouted for joy. Her family joined her as all heaven burst forth to follow the Word of God, eyes flames of fire, hair white as purity itself, and riding on a white horse to destroy His enemies.

  The End.