Demonic Designs (To Absolve the Fallen)

by Babbitt, Aaron

  Metatron chuckled. “Then, perhaps you will comply for the sake of your mother and two sisters, who could easily be on this boat, tomorrow.”

  Hannah looked away. “What do you want?”

  “It’s amazing how loved ones change everything, isn’t it? Just the thought of what I could do to other people makes you quake. Well, you would live a lot longer if you didn’t think that way. Perhaps, I could help those people you are trying to protect. You’ve already purchased your plane ticket to go to Las Vegas. Jeremiah has already spoken with you. You intend to join his crusade and that boy, Alex. What can a child do to me? What hope do you have? Who knows? I might be able to persuade him, too, to join my fight—the winning side.”

  Hannah closed her eyes, accepting a destiny that she’d run from for many years. “And that is exactly the reason I would never help you.”

  Hannah felt the thrust, the weightlessness, the splash. She struggled for a moment, but without being able to move her arms or legs, she only sank. Normally, the human mind kicks into a subconscious, sometimes irrational mode for survival—even if all is futile. Her mind was clear, and she never once doubted God’s will.

  ***

  Marla and Lao Shi sat in front of the mansion for many minutes, thinking. Marla was trying to fathom how she would acclimate the prophet to his new surroundings. The Lama was struggling to understand how bad things could happen to good people.

  Finally, Marla turned to him. “Would you like to go inside?”

  “Yes,” he responded. “I think it would be wise for me to learn this new environment. There is no telling how long I might be here.”

  Marla stepped out of the car and went around to the other side to open Lao Shi’s door. He stepped out, stood up straight and examined his surroundings. Marla put her hand on his shoulder. To some degree, she wanted to comfort him, but more than that, she wanted to know his feelings.

  “This place,” she started, “was built with prophets in mind. The security is intense. The technology is state-of-the-art.” She chuckled. “And the food’s pretty good, too. I think that we will be able to meet your needs.”

  “I need very little,” Lao Shi responded.

  Marla looked away, uncomfortably. “Yes, of course.”

  Lao Shi reflected upon what he had said. “I am sorry,” he added, smiling. “My sorrow overwhelms me. You are not responsible for my friends’ deaths, and I recognize that. Please, do not be offended by my brevity. I think, right now, it would be best if I could be shown to my quarters. I will be better after some rest and meditation.”

  “Sure.” Marla nodded. “I’ll take you to your room.”

  They entered the house, and Lao Shi inspected the portrait of Jeremiah as they passed through the foyer. Marla caught Lao Shi’s half smile. He chose to remain silent, but Marla knew what he was thinking. Jeremiah may have undergone important changes in recent days, but, in the long run, he’d changed very little.

  “This is it,” Marla said, as she opened the door. “Your room. It’s sparse, but we thought you would prefer it that way, until you got the chance to design it.”

  Lao Shi bowed. “It is fine. I appreciate your generosity.”

  Marla walked inside and motioned to a button on the intercom. “This is me. If you need any assistance at all, push that button, and you’ll be in direct contact with me. Otherwise, try to flag someone down in the hall. Everyone will be told not to disturb you. However, I think that you will get hungry eventually. When you’ve recuperated and you’re ready to tour the mansion or get something to eat, just give me a ring. Okay?”

  “Yes,” he agreed, again bowing. “I will do so.”

  Marla bowed back, not knowing what etiquette required of her, walked out of the room and, after one last glance at Lao Shi, quietly shut the door.

  Lao Shi stood motionless for several seconds, staring at the door. He turned to inspect his room. It was enormous in comparison to what he was used to. He had gone, with the Dalai Lama, on many trips to the United States. They certainly did live in luxury. Even the hotel suites they had stayed in seemed like small palaces. Now, he had a room in a very large palace. It didn’t seem right to him, but he shrugged away the doubt. Right and wrong were a little different here. And, at the moment, only necessity was important. He was needed here, and he needed to be here. No matter how decadent it all seemed, he would have to stay and be gracious. He had no intention of conforming, but he would be gracious, nonetheless.

  ***

  There was a gentle knock on the door. Elizabeth pulled herself away from the screen and wiped her eyes.

  “Come in,” she said. She already knew who it was. The computer told her that Marla had returned with Lao Shi.

  Marla opened the door and walked toward her, smiling. But when she got within ten feet, she looked, cautiously, at the prophet.

  “What’s wrong?” she asked.

  Elizabeth averted her eyes, “Oh...uh...there’s nothing wrong. How is Lao Shi?”

  Marla stared at Elizabeth suspiciously. After a moment, she sighed and admitted, “I can’t tell. He hides his emotions well. I mean, I don’t know if ‘well’ is the right word. Something very traumatic happened, and he doesn’t seem to want to talk about it. He only wants to get down to business.” She put her hand on Elizabeth’s shoulder. “Now, are you going to tell me what’s wrong, or am I going to have to question everyone on the compound? They’re scared of me, you know. I’ll threaten them with relocation to an uninhabited island.”

  Elizabeth laughed, though Marla perceived it to be out of nervousness. “That won’t be necessary,” the prophet replied. “I can tell you, but not right here. I don’t think I feel comfortable in this room, all of the sudden.”

  Marla looked over Elizabeth’s shoulder and saw a message on the screen. “Who is that?”

  Elizabeth looked back at the screen and shuddered. “I don’t know.”

  Marla only looked at her, confused. Who could possibly be on Elizabeth’s computer without the prophet knowing? If she had realized that Elizabeth had spent the last hour and a half trying to answer that same question, she might not have been so surprised.

  ***

  “Alex, Son, how are you feeling?”

  Alex turned, and his father stood before him in a sparkling white suit. Alex was stunned. The last thing he could remember was watching a movie with Matt. Sleep must have taken him. He hadn’t thought he was that tired, but it had been a long day.

  “I guess I’m tired,” Alex responded. “But I think I feel pretty good.”

  “I’m glad,” his father replied.

  “I met Abigail Martin, today. I was more than a little intimidated.”

  James Tanner chuckled. “Yes. She is faithful. That kind of faith is noticeable and can be daunting. She is also very powerful; she’ll take good care of you. Come. Walk with me.”

  Alex walked over to his father. A powerful yet gentle arm wrapped around the boy’s shoulders, and they began to walk. As they did, Alex’s hometown, Kingstone, appeared before them. They were walking down the peaceful streets; it seemed like there was no one else around. Alex looked at the familiar buildings. The age of the buildings reflected the back-to-the-basics mentality of the community. He’d always thought that they symbolized a lack of growth and closed-mindedness of the people, but the buildings now seemed to speak of the adamant nature of old-fashion values. He felt like he was walking between pillars of strength. And he, too, felt strong.

  “Why do you think I chose this scenery?” James asked.

  “I don’t know,” Alex replied. “Is it because you wanted me to remember where I came from?”

  “No. We’re here because you’re familiar with it. You need to know what you’re getting into before you can know how to affect it. Many of the people you will be dealing with rely on very old ideals to protect them. These ideals serve as a safety net. It’s important for you to understand the Bible because the people whom you will be speaking to will require that you
give it some credence. Just like these surroundings make you feel strong, so do the old messages from the Bible make others feel strong. They’re made resilient from the knowledge that the Word of God has lasted so long and that so many have believed in its teaching.”

  “But,” Alex said, “I don’t believe in a lot of the Bible.”

  They stopped walking. “You don’t have to,” his father confided, smiling. “What you have to do is appeal to what people do believe in. You’re going to find that few people hold to all of the precepts of the Bible in literal ways. It must be difficult to fathom that a God who would send His only begotten son to die for everyone’s sins would send people to everlasting torment. I’m sure people have a hard time accepting that there is a God who is omniscient, but He felt it necessary to create angels who would become adversaries. Matt has wondered why God would forgive Moses for murder but damn a man who has sex with another man. By and large, it is the laws of those who claim to speak for me that humans believe, not the themes.

  “The Bible is archaic, and you might feel it’s more trouble than it’s worth. People argue and die over it. There are gospels of the disciples of Jesus that never made it into the book Christians place so much faith in. Men, who believe themselves to be righteous, use it to judge and harm others in the name of God. And, of course, most of the world doesn’t care about the book at all. I could have a similar conversation with you about any religion and change the names of important people and their written records; the moral would be essentially the same. Christianity is relevant to you. You must persuade all people that you speak for God. Then, they will listen to you no matter what the Bible says.”

  “Then, you’re telling me that the Bible isn’t your message to mankind?”

  “No,” came the reply. “There is at least a little truth in any holy book. What I am saying is that people will, invariably, interpret the Bible, and anything else, to say what they want to hear. You need to seek out the good in the human soul and minister to that. They will listen.”

  “They’ll call me a heretic.”

  “Yes,” James Tanner agreed, “some will.”

  “Humanity is known for killing people who teach something different than what has been traditionally taught.”

  “Yes, it is well known for that.”

  Alex looked expectant. “So are they going to kill me?”

  His father looked solemn. “If you knew that death was a price that would have to be paid, would you change your mind about the path you have chosen?”

  Alex looked away. “You would throw me on the sacrificial alter like you did Jesus.”

  “I do not make those decisions.”

  “But,” Alex persisted, “you have the power to change it.”

  “I also have the power to make everyone act in exactly the same way.”

  “Then, why don’t you?” Alex demanded. “Wouldn’t it be easier that way?”

  “I should make everyone listen to you and love you. Right?”

  “Yes!” Alex exclaimed. “How is that different than giving me the ability to understand and influence them?”

  “Alex,” James Tanner returned, “you will, one day, be very powerful. But you will never be able to force or remove faith.”

  “What’s the point in losing those you love, those who have vowed to work for you? Your followers get martyred all the time, for your sake. What do you do for their sake?”

  His father closed his eyes for a moment and then opened them. His words came very slowly, as if pained, “I support their free will.”

  “No!” Alex yelled. “That’s a cop-out. You’re just a greedy dictator who will never descend from his throne, on high, to tell us common folk what’s on his mind. You want us to guess your riddles, play your games and even die for you. What will you do in return? You’ll make it sound like it was our idea to begin with. It’s no wonder that people have to listen to others as they interpret your word, you won’t tell them anything.”

  “You don’t understand--”

  “I think I do understand,” Alex interrupted. “You’re selfish. The entire universe, it’s all about you, isn’t it? But, if that’s true, then why do you need me? Why must I die for you?”

  His father stared at him and then, without malice, bitterness, or disappointment responded, “How like Jesus you are...”

  They both stared at each other for what seemed like eons. Then, a voice surrounded them. It was soft; it was familiar. It was Matt: You may as well just come to terms.

  “What was that?” Alex asked.

  James Tanner shrugged, “Someone who is coming to terms, someone who needs you.”

  Alex felt himself being lifted into consciousness.

  ***

  The sun was setting. Matt regarded the Las Vegas skyline with mixed emotions. The buildings and the smog distorted the sunset in a way that Matt felt should be illegal, but he still admired the beauty of the event, though the sight was much better from Jeremiah’s mansion. He missed that compound. Like that rickety warehouse in Texas, this apartment did not seem very defensible; it almost surprised him that there hadn’t been any attacks yet. This was about the most vulnerable that Alex had been since Jeremiah introduced himself to the boy.

  Matt looked back at Alex. He was asleep on the couch. They’d been watching a movie, but, apparently, the day had been too rough for him—he hadn’t even made it halfway through the action flick. It was a kung-fu movie, and it was in subtitles, so Matt could see how it might not appeal to everyone. And, Matt admitted to himself, it probably seemed a little corny. But he was sure that it would seem less corny to someone who lived in a world of prophets and demons.

  Alex looked like he was truly at peace, lying there. Matt wanted to stare at him for hours. He wanted to pull up a chair, sit across from Alex and vigilantly protect this priceless and vulnerable treasure. Matt smiled, looked at his feet and then turned back to the outside world.

  “No,” he said to himself. “It can never be. You may as well just come to terms.”

  He knew he was torturing himself by even being in the same room with Alex, but he knew he could draw the line and hold it. Alex was destined for someone else, and Matt would make sure he lived to find that person. He heard stirring behind him. He turned back around, and Alex was rubbing his eyes as he sat forward.

  “Did you say something to me?” Alex asked.

  “No,” Matt replied, turning back to the fading sunset. “I was just basking in the beauty of it all.”

  Alex looked at Matt’s back and considered what he should say. “I was speaking with God.”

  Matt spun around with a sudden look of intrigue. “What?”

  Alex’s eyes drifted down, and he stammered, “I-I think that God told me that--uh--that I would die.”

  Matt looked concerned. “But, Alex, everyone dies.”

  “No,” Alex insisted, “I think God meant that I would die for this cause.”

  At that moment, Alex felt a powerful weight bear down on him. It seemed like someone had knocked the wind out of him and sat on his chest to make sure he couldn’t fully breathe. Matt stared at him, trying to comprehend what he was saying. Alex’s face had gone flush, and he was starting to shiver.

  “Alex, you look sick.”

  Alex’s teeth were chattering, and his heart was beating really fast. “Yeah. I d-don’t feel too g-good, either.”

  Matt pulled out a cell phone. “You need to lie back down. I’ll call Jeremiah.”

  Alex waved his hand. “No,” he pleaded. “D-Don’t.”

  “Then, what should I do, Alex? You look like you’re having an overdose.”

  “He d-doesn’t care, Matt,” Alex said, looking up at him, desperately. “We’re p-puppets.”

  “Alex, Jeremiah’s going to care if you’re sick.”

  “N-No, Matt—God.”

  Alex’s vision blurred, and he became dizzy. Vertigo hit him, and his head fell back onto the couch. Then, everything went black, but he was still s
emi-conscious. He still identified himself, and he could feel the cold, but he couldn’t feel anything else.

  Alex had meant to cry out, but it came more like a whisper, “Matt, I can’t s-see you.”

  “I’m here,” Matt replied, swiftly moving to the couch.

  He took Alex’s hand, and a convulsion swept through the boy. It looked like Alex tried to scream, but he couldn’t. His mouth just opened; he exhaled, and his mouth closed again. Matt tried to reclaim his hand, but Alex had a firm grip on his hand and wouldn’t let go. His other hand flipped open the phone and hit the speed-dial for Jeremiah. Then, Matt, too, became dizzy. He fell to his knees. There was a cold chill that seemed to freeze the prophet in place. His body tensed up. Matt sensed his strength seeping out of him. In moments, he lost consciousness and fell to the floor. His hand and Alex’s were still locked.

  ***

  Elizabeth had explained the situation to Marla as best she could. Marla didn’t try to make too much sense out of what was happening. After she had gone through all the details, some several times, Liz admitted that she needed to sleep. The day’s events had exhausted her. And she did sleep, but it wasn’t restful. Finally, after a couple hours of tossing and turning, she went to the dining hall, and she was happy to see that Marla was there, too.

  Marla looked happy to see her, but she was definitely concerned. She motioned for Elizabeth to sit down, and she called for Martin. The maître d’ responded to the beckoning, and after he had taken Liz’s order, he left again.

  Marla asked, “Do you think it’s a hacker?”

  Elizabeth replied, “At this point, I don’t think it’s human.”

  “Then, a demon?”

  Elizabeth said, “I hope not. Whatever it is would seem to have taken an interest in my personal life.”

  “And Jeremiah didn’t seem to be that concerned?”

  “No,” Liz returned. “I haven’t told him about the recent interest in my love affairs, but I still don’t think he’d care.”