Tartarus: Kingdom Wars II (22 page)

I pointed with my pen to his feet, which were two inches above the carpet.

“What is your fascination with angel feet?”

“What is your reluctance to tell me? I want to know why angels’ feet don’t touch the ground.”

Abdiel stood motionless for so long I thought he was going to refuse.

“It is to our shame that we do not,” he said, “for there was a time when we walked the earth freely.”

“In the beginning,” I said, “before Lucifer poisoned it with sin.”

Abdiel nodded. “Very perceptive. We are accustomed to walking on fiery stones on heaven’s mount in the midst of the eternal sea. To touch something that has been corrupted by sin—”

“Is repulsive to you.”

“You understand.”

“Semyaza once told me it was repulsive for him to take the form of a human.”

“Centuries ago, during the time you call the Middle Ages, I ministered to a man who told me he had once been sewn up in the carcass of a rotting, maggot-filled moose. He had an elementary understanding of what it is like for us to touch a sinful cosmos. The effect on us is more deeply corrosive. The sight alone is painful.”

“It hurts you to look at us?”

“Like a mother looking at her mangled child.”

“But where is the shame? There’s no shame in turning aside from something unpleasant.”

Abdiel looked down, troubled. While I didn’t yet understand it, his disgrace was obviously real.

“When Lucifer’s rebellion was put down, a series of punishments were enacted. Some of the rebels were thrown into a dark dimension, where they are being held until the day of judgment. Others, along with Lucifer, were denied residency in heaven. However, they were allowed to attend the heavenly council.”

“Why didn’t the Father throw all of them into the dark dimension?” I asked.

“The Father is merciful. He gave Lucifer an opportunity to repent. From the beginning, Lucifer had been enamored of God’s cosmic creation. By giving Lucifer continued access to it, he could have chosen to fulfill his original role and administer his responsibilities to the glory of the Son.”

“Instead, he poisoned it.”

“Not only poisoned it, but terrorized it. Of course, his most reprehensible act was attacking the Son when He came to earth. For that, following his defeat at the cross, Lucifer and his followers have been forever denied heaven. They will never again walk the fiery stones.”

“So he’s trapped in the very creation he poisoned,” I said.

“Lucifer has petitioned the Father repeatedly, arguing that this punishment is too cruel.”

“You still haven’t explained how this brings shame to the angelic realm.”

We had arrived at the moment of truth and Abdiel was reluctant to continue.

“Lucifer uses our refusal to touch the cosmos as the capstone of his argument that his punishment is unbearable.”

“And the Father’s response?” I asked.

“Behold, my Son.”

At last I understood.
“And the Son became flesh and dwelt among us.”

“When He walked on the earth He left footprints,” Abdiel said. “Something Lucifer would never do.”

As I wrote this down, I formulated my next question. I had done my homework for this interview. Humiliated by the fiasco of the presidential biography, I had made myself a pledge that I would never again take an interview or a bit of research at face value. I would corroborate it with further research.

On the sofa next to me were three books. One of them was the Bible. I opened it to a place I’d marked.

“It says here—”

“The revelation to John,” Abdiel said, identifying the source.

I wasn’t finished. I selected a second passage I’d marked. “And it says here—”

“The revelation to Peter,” Abdiel said.

I looked up. “So, Lucifer and those who rebelled have been cast out of heaven and are awaiting judgment.”

“Correct.”

“Cast down to the earth.”

“The cosmos. Correct.”

“But this second passage says God sent them to Tartarus. Some translations interpret that as hell.”

“Gehenna
is hell. The word given to Peter is
Tartarus.”

“This is the place Belial is using in his scam. Only, according to him, Tartarus is an inhabited world on a subatomic scale.”

Abdiel stiffened. “Belial is using the name deceptively.”

“So, these two passages—”

“Say the same thing.”

“Which makes Tartarus—”

“The cosmos,” Abdiel said.

“Gloomy dungeons?”

“Once you walk on heaven’s fiery stones, this world of sin will appear to you as a gloomy dungeon. Its chains are space and time, a severe prison for beings who were created for eternity and limitless dimensions.”

Abdiel must have forgotten who he was talking to, because I would never have a chance to walk on heaven’s fiery stones. And since this is the only world I have ever known, I found it difficult to think of it as a gloomy dungeon, what with its sunsets and majestic peaks and oceans and panoramic skies. Yet, for all its beauty, this was the corrupted version.

One thing was certain, though. I took pleasure in the thought that, for Lucifer and Semyaza, it was a gloomy dungeon and that they were imprisoned and doing time for their crimes while awaiting sentencing.

S
ue phoned and asked me to meet her at La Jolla Cove.

When she called, I was reviewing the notes of my first session with Abdiel. Replaying it in my head. Jotting down comments in the margins. The conversation with Sue was short. I sensed no residual anger from this morning.

As I approached the coast the sun was lowering itself into the water like a weary traveler easing into a hot tub. Orange and yellow hues splashed brilliantly across the horizon against a deep blue sea.

If this was a gloomy dungeon, heaven had to be beyond magnificent. But then, I’ll never know, will I? Like a dogged companion, doom accompanied me down the hill. I shoved him out the door. Three’s company, and I didn’t want any foreboding feelings around during this rendezvous with Sue Ling.

I was in luck. The parking gods smiled on me. I found a space within a block of the cove. Sue was waiting for me beside a low, whitewashed wall. She gazed down at the cove, watching the carefree activity of the beachgoers.

On the drive there I’d formulated a strategy. Apologize quickly. Apologize profusely.

“Sue, I—”

She placed a hand over my mouth, and I saw something in her eyes I’d never seen from her before. Affection. The hand over my mouth was unnecessary. The look in her eyes struck me dumb.

Taking me by the hand, she led me along the walkway. We came to a path leading down to the tide pools. She sat on the wall, swung her legs over, and pulled me after her. We helped each other down a steep slope to a massive rock-staging area for sea activity. Waves crashed against the far edge, launching sprays of water twenty feet high. Tide pools dotted the surface. Deep fissures were narrow windows to the tidal forces below.

Hand in hand we peered into the tide pools, jumped the fissures, and ran to avoid the downpour of crashing waves, giggling like little kids. We mistimed a wave and paid the price with drenched hair and clothes.

Sue’s laughing eyes sparkled brighter than the emerging stars. Drops of seawater freckled her cheeks.

In the dimming light people flattened into silhouettes against a rosy, pale, western sky. The rocks turned glossy black. The occasional flash of a tourist camera stamped postcard images in my mind.

Shivering, Sue pulled me by the hand up the slope. We nested on top of the wall and shared the panorama of a darkening ocean.

It had been years since I felt this happy. Her hands in her lap, Sue leaned against me for warmth. I had to remind myself that she was vulnerable. While this was a fantasy come true for me, it was therapeutic for her. Tonight she needed a friend, not a complication.

We sat in silence under night’s canopy, enjoying the breeze, the scenery…and each other’s company.

“This morning—” Sue said.

“Is past and forgotten,” I replied.

She leaned back and grinned at me with incredulity. “The past is forgotten? That’s an odd statement for a historian to make.”

I grinned, too, though I didn’t like being called a historian. I was a writer who did historical research when a project required it. But the moon was rising and—well, right now, who cared?

But Sue was ready to talk. “A physicist and a historian sat on a wall—”

I laughed. “Sounds like a joke. What’s the punch line?”

“You tell me. Is it a joke? Or is it the beginning of a different kind of story?”

If she could have seen how my heart leaped at that moment, words would have been unnecessary.

“I hope it’s not a joke,” I said, keeping the tone light. “But if we’re going to tell it, we need to rewrite the first line. How about, ‘A physicist and a Nephilim sat on a wall—’”

The distance between us increased, though neither of us had moved.

I apologized. “I’m sorry, Sue Ling. I shouldn’t have said that.”

“No,” she said softly. “You’re right.”

It did need to be said, but did it need to be said tonight? Right now? If I could have, I would have taken it back.

The silence stretched to a point where I thought the conversation was over. We would sit here a while longer, then we’d stumble over good-byes and she’d go home and I’d go home and tomorrow it would be as though tonight had never happened.

“Have you thought about having children?” Sue Ling said.

I laughed in spite of myself. “Whoa! Where did that come from?”

She smiled. “It’s a logical queston, your being Nephilim.”

“I did bring that up, didn’t I?” I muttered. “Um—well, yeah, I’ve thought about it. How can I bring a life into this world, knowing that it’s a future demon, that it’s hopelessly doomed for eternity?”

“Have you come to terms with that for yourself?”

“No, not really. I tell myself I have, but there will always be part of me that hopes for a miracle or an escape clause. Some nights I pray that I’ll wake up and realize it was all a bad dream and I’m just like everybody else.”

Her hand squeezed mine; with the other hand she stroked my forearm. “I don’t need children, Grant.”

She didn’t explain. She didn’t have to. Her relationship with the professor would have raised the question of children long before now.

“Sue…this is too soon. I don’t want to—”

“Take advantage of me?” She smiled seductively. “Did you ever think that I might be the one taking advantage of you?”

It was a delicious thought. I cautioned myself not to put too much stock in the images that conjured.

“This morning, when I came over to your condo, I didn’t come just to get the manuscript. I came to try to talk you into moving away with me.”

“Moving? Where?”

I knew it. I was going to lose her.

“Does it matter? Neither of us has roots here. You can write anywhere. All I need is a university within commuting distance. I’ll finish my Ph.D. and teach. You can write another Pulitzer Prize book.”

“Book? Singular?”

“My, aren’t we ambitious.”

After a shared laugh we returned to the topic.

“We can’t hide from them,” I said. “It’s not like they’re the local mafia. No matter where we go, they’ll find us.”

“Don’t you see? Moving is a symbolic gesture. It shows them you don’t want anything to do with them and their war. There will be no reason for them to bother us.”

“And since I have the protective mark…” I added.

“Exactly! You’re no threat to them, and they can’t touch you. We could live in a quiet little university town and make the most of the years given us.”

A quiet, normal life with Sue Ling. What more could I hope for?

“When I met the professor,” I said, “he told me to find a big hole and crawl into it. When I went to see Doc Palmer, he told me to disappear. He said that once the rebel angels saw I was no threat to them, they’d leave me alone.”

“Isn’t it time you realized they’re right?” Sue said.

But there was something else to consider. Thoughts of the professor conjured up images of Semyaza summoning deadly winds to kill him. A part of me didn’t want to slip quietly into the night with Sue Ling. It wanted to fight. It wanted revenge.

“Grant?” Sue said tentatively, sensing something was wrong. She stroked my fisted hand.

“I vowed to avenge the professor,” I said.

“How?”

Her defiance was instant. Explosive.

“How, Grant?” she repeated. “Are you going to wrestle him to the ground, cuff him, and turn him over to the authorities? Shoot him? As if that would do any good. Grant, you can’t even give Semyaza a bloody nose.”

“I’ve got to do something,” I said stubbornly.

“Grant, I’ve seen you train, remember? You can see him coming, but then what? You might even be able to chase him through a wall without help. But all he would have to do is flip into a different dimension, something that comes naturally for him. Even then, why would he? What threat do you pose to him? I know I side with you when Abdiel’s around, but he’s right and you know it. How can you defend yourself against weapons you can’t see? We’re talking about seasoned warriors. This is Semyaza, not Myles Shepherd. He’s toying with you. He knows how to get to you, to make you keep coming back for more. And—” Tears came furiously. “I can’t take it anymore, Grant. I lost the professor, and I can’t stand the thought of losing you, too.”

She buried her head against my chest and sobbed. I put my arm around her.

“They’ve been doing this for millennia,” I said softly, more to me than to her.

She was right, of course. Semyaza would like nothing better than for me to come after him, assuming that I could. Was that why he killed the professor? To lure me into coming after him? Did he know something about my protective mark I didn’t know? Would it protect me if I was the aggressor?

“When I think of the professor,” Sue said, her voice muffled against my chest, “God forgive me, Grant…but I hate him.”

“Sue! Why?”

“I try not to. But I can’t help myself. When I think of him, I see him with his wife and his daughters and he’s happy, and I’m miserable and alone. He doesn’t need me anymore, Grant. I was just someone he was passing time with until he could be with her again.”

“Don’t say that, Sue. I’m sure it isn’t true.”

She lifted her head. “Do you think he’s told his wife about me? And what happens when I die? Do you really think she’s going to share her husband with me?”

The sudden twist in the conversation had me befuddled. But then, even if I’d seen it coming, I still would have been ill-equipped to comment.

Sue laughed bitterly. “I’m sure she’s amused at the silly schoolgirl who fell in love with her professor husband.”

I’d never seen this side of Sue Ling before. She’d always been confident, efficient, professional. She’d always been strong for the professor.

Since I didn’t know what to say, I just held her and let her cry.

“Grant, I don’t want to lose you.” She sobbed. “I don’t want to lose you.”

“Shhh. You’re not going to lose me,” I said, rocking her.

“Your mind is wandering, Grant Austin. Do you not wish to hear this?” Abdiel asked.

“Oh…um…right.” I adjusted the yellow pad on my lap. “Sorry. Where were we?”

“I was describing Lucifer’s plan to thwart the Father’s redemptive strategy,” Abdiel said. “You were with Sue Ling, I believe.”

He was guessing. He’d guessed right, but I wasn’t going to admit it. I was thinking about last night at the cove. Sue and I talked until well past midnight. I walked her to the car, and there was an awkward moment when we didn’t kiss. I promised her I’d make a list of places other than San Diego I’d like to live. She was going to do the same.

I didn’t tell her about my sessions with Abdiel. It would only upset her.

Soon after Abdiel arrived, he began as he had before, reciting the official angel version. He hadn’t gotten far when I interrupted him again.

“Can I ask you a question? You were there, right? At creation. In the early days with the Watchers and the Nephilim. When Jesus walked the earth.”

“I was present on many occasions. I was among those selected to minister to the Divine Warrior following His temptation in the wilderness.”

“That’s what I want.”

“You want me to minister to you?”

“I want you to tell me what it was like to be there.”

“Is that not what I’m doing?”

“No. You’re giving me a classroom recitation. You were an eyewitness. I want to interview you.”

It was rocky at first, but I’ve worked with people who are unaccustomed to being interviewed. I know how to draw them out. How to help them recall details they thought they’d forgotten or thought were unimportant.

With Abdiel, I got him to talk about his prior friendship with Lucifer, and the downward spiral of emotions he felt as he watched his mentor slip from an exalted position to enemy rebel and terrorist, from an ardent enthusiast of the Father’s creation to its saboteur, from devoted leader to spurned lover, from joy and faithfulness to bitterness and rumors of insurrection that polarized the angel nation.

I learned that heaven’s war erupted when the council was between sessions as Lucifer and his men marched on the throne room. There they encountered archangels Michael, Gabriel, Uriel, Raphael, and Abdiel, who had been alerted to the plan.

Lucifer had made it clear he felt his rightful place was on the throne to the right of the Father’s throne, the one that had been given to the Son. It was this throne the loyal archangels defended.

However, as Lucifer advanced, he did not approach the throne of the Son. He strode toward the Father’s throne.

As often happens during cataclysmic moments in history, no one could recall who struck the initial blow. Abdiel recalled that his attention was on Lucifer, whom he said he barely recognized, so changed was he by his bitterness and hate. The next thing Abdiel knew he was fighting for his life.

Lucifer believed that once the fighting started, a groundswell of angelic support would surge to his side. It was a fatal error. Barely a third of heaven’s angels sided with him and the rebellion was quickly put down.