The Incubus, Succubus and Son of Perdition Box Set: The Len du Randt Bundle (79 page)

‘Oh,
do
behave,’ Victor said and the audience
erupted into whoops and cheers. The roar of the crowd grew louder and louder,
and the audience stood up, giving him a standing ovation.

‘Please let us not be fickle about the misinterpreted
details of my being,’ Victor shouted above the cheers. ‘I am here now. Enjoy
the whole of me; enjoy the
real and living
God for a change!’

He raised his hands and was instantly transformed into
a being of brilliance, light emitting from the very core of his body. An
invisible shockwave hit the audience at once, and they all fell down on their
knees and started worshipping Victor.

‘That’s intense,’ Trevor said, trying to resist the
urge to go onto his knees and worship. There was no reply from René. Trevor
looked at her, and saw her kneeling next to him, worshipping and weeping. ‘Oh,
you
are
God, and you have come,’ she said softly. ‘Shower your mercy on
me; shower me with your love.’ She repeated those words over and over until her
sobs overwhelmed her and she couldn’t speak anymore.

Trevor looked at her, then broke himself free from the
hypnotic force of Victor and fled to his room. He shut the door and locked it.

‘Oh Lord Yoshe,’ he heard René yell from the living
room. ‘Have me!’

‘What’s going on?’ Trevor asked as he slid down against
the door. ‘What the Hell is happening?’

- - -*  *  *- -
-

Al Jalil:
Two Days Later

‘It is with great pride and honour
that we have here today, our Lord and God, Victor Yoshe, to cut the ribbon to
the Al Jalil City Hall. As of today, we are officially the sovereign finance
and trading hub in the world.’

The gathered crowds cheered behind the barricade as
Victor shook the Mayor’s hand and took a pair of scissors from him. He walked
to the red ribbon, and smiled at flashing cameras before snipping it.

The crowd applauded, and thousands of balloons were
released at once when the marching band started playing. The atmosphere was
vibrant, with mimes and roadside stalls lending a carnival feel to the
ceremony.

‘I am proud to be here today,’ Victor said to the
crowd, ‘and would like to tour the city for a few days. But first, those who
wish to be blessed may do so now by worshipping. I will gladly bless all of you
who bestow loyalty, trust, and praise.’

The crowd of five hundred instantly fell to their knees
and began worshipping.

- - -*  *  *- -
-

Trevor arrived early for work. He
logged into his computer and saw that he had seventeen messages in his inbox.
One specific message caught his attention:

You have a virtual gift! Click
here to view it!

Trevor double clicked on the
message, and a website loaded up. After a minute of loading, a small animation
about the two prophets in Jerusalem played, portraying their demise in a
mocking fashion.

From nowhere they came,

and turned out to be a
pain.

But Victor came,

and now we’ll never see
them again!

Please send this gift to
fifteen people and experience a miracle from Lord Yoshe in two days.

Trevor forwarded the mail to
everyone in his address book. After sifting through the rest of the mails, he
updated his social media status and then opened the GMN website and loaded a
live stream of Victor in Al Jalil. People were worshipping Victor and Antonio
on their knees, and the sight sent a shiver down Trevor’s spine. Something was
out of place, but he couldn’t figure out what. After the worship session, a few
GMN reporters lined up to ask Victor some questions.

- - -*  *  *- -
-

‘Lord Yoshe,’ a reporter asked,
‘Could you please tell our viewers what your plans are for the next few
months?’

Victor smiled. ‘John,’ he said politely. ‘My main goal
is to assist the world in attaining global peace. With my knowledge of the human
race, I have assisted certain companies in using Molecular Nanotechnology to
slow down the aging process. People will soon be able to live up to a thousand
years, and my personal goal is to usher in a millennium of peace.’

‘When will this technology be available?’ someone else
asked.

‘The technology is already here,’ Victor said, ‘we just
need to...’

Someone in the crowd shouted something and a few women
shrieked. Victor spun around and saw a man pushing Ryan and a few reporters out
of his way. Ryan lost his balance and fell down a few steps, almost breaking
his neck. The man advanced on Victor and wielded a sword above his head. A
second later, the man struck the blade into Victor’s skull, dropping him
instantly. The crowd was paralysed, unable to do anything as the man raised his
sword again for another blow. His blade never reached its intended target as
three bullets ripped through the man’s chest, rupturing his lungs. He dropped
to his knees and the blade slid from his limp fingers. Blood trickled from his
mouth and he fell forward and tumbled down a few steps.

‘Everybody get back!’ Ryan yelled and waved his pistol
in the general direction of the crowd. They instinctively obeyed. ‘Someone get
an ambulance,
now!
’

He rolled Victor onto his back, and was shocked at the
horrific disfigurement of his master’s face. There was no sign of life, and no
pulse. Ryan put his ear to Victor’s mouth. There was no breathing. He feared
for the worst, and cleared the crowd to make room for the ambulance. It took
them twelve minutes to get there, and all the shocked crowd could do was watch
helplessly as the ambulance sped off to the hospital.

- - -*  *  *- -
-

‘This isn’t happening,’ Trevor said
as the events unfolded on the live stream. The GMN cameraman managed to record
most of the attack, but at some stage fumbled with the camera, and the actual
deathblow was thus not recorded. ‘It just isn’t happening.’

René, who was working the same shift as Trevor, had
joined him when she heard him shouting. She bit into her knuckle as the rest of
the scene unfolded, wondering if it was some sort of sick joke. But it was
real. Victor had been wounded and was being rushed to the hospital. How could
anyone do this? Who would be capable of hurting a god? Her legs felt numb, and
her mouth dry. She, like Trevor, was in denial. ‘Maybe he will be okay,’ she
said with a coarse voice.

‘I have to let Andrew know about this,’ Trevor said and
picked up his headset again.

- - -*  *  *- -
-

‘Andy, are you watching the news?’
Trevor shouted hysterically through the telephone.

‘No,’ Andrew said. ‘Why?’

‘No time to explain. Just watch GMN,
now!
We’ll
talk later.’

The phone went dead and Andrew stood there for a while.

‘What could be so important?’ he wondered out loud.

The news broadcast confused him at first. He didn’t
quite know what he was looking at. The confusing imagery changed to a news
anchor sitting behind a desk. A press photo of Victor Yoshe was inserted above
the man’s shoulder. ‘It is with great sadness and remorse,’ the man said with a
grief-stricken expression, ‘That I have to announce to you that at two o’
clock, Standard Eastern Time, the President of the European Empire, Victor
Yoshe, was officially declared dead.’

The words struck Andrew physically, knocking him back into
his chair.

‘The President has been assassinated a few minutes ago
in front of a crowd of people in the city of Al Jalil. It is still not known
who the assassin was, or his motivation for the killing, but we will keep you
updated and informed as the story unfolds.’

Andrew whistled through his teeth. ‘It has begun,’ he
said softly. ‘God help us all.’

.XIII.

Any sufficiently advanced
technology is indistinguishable from magic

-
Clarke’s Third Law

‘Okay, Andy; I’ve waited long
enough. Just give it to me straight. What’s going on?’

Andrew stared at his coffee as if it were a portal
through which he could see into the vastness of space. The gentle August breeze
was such a contrast to the events that were about to unfold. He shot up a quick
prayer, asking the Holy Spirit to open Trevor’s heart and eyes to what he was
about to tell him. He couldn’t risk alienating Trevor now, and realized that
what he was about to say, would ultimately be the deciding factor of Trevor’s
choice between Jesus and Victor.

‘Andy?’

Andrew looked up sheepishly. ‘Sorry, Trev...just
wondering where to begin.’

‘Begin at the alien attacks.’

‘Alien attacks...’ Andrew said softly.

‘You said something last time,’ Trevor guided him,
‘about it not being aliens or something.’

Andrew nodded. ‘You know some Bible facts, right?’ he
asked.

Better than most Christians,
Trevor thought, and a
slight smile curled his lips upward. ‘Some,’ he answered instead.

‘Well, then you should know that before Pentecost, the
Holy Spirit had only empowered certain chosen ones like Sampson and Gideon.
Only at Pentecost did the Holy Spirit get poured out on
all
flesh.’

‘Okay...?’

‘Jesus also promised a helper, the Holy Spirit, to
guide his followers after He had left. A helper who would
never
leave
us, nor forsake us.’

Trevor nodded out of courtesy.

‘Now for the Antichrist to be able to make his
appearance, the Holy Spirit—the restrainer—has to be taken out of the way
first. Since it was promised that He would never leave nor forsake the
Christians. He didn’t leave them. He left
with
them.’

‘So based on what you’re saying, the Holy Spirit is
gone for good?’

‘God is
everywhere
,’ Andrew replied. ‘He is
still on Earth, but only withdrew His influence and protection. The part of Him
that left, took His people with Him. Or at least, that’s how I understand it.’

‘The Rapture...’ Trevor said.

Andrew’s heart skipped a beat. ‘So...you believe it was
the Rapture?’

Trevor stared into his friend’s eyes for a moment. He
finally answered with a decisive, ‘No.’

‘You don’t?’ Andrew asked. ‘Why not?’

‘I know about the Rapture, but that doesn’t mean that I
believe in it. There are still too many loose ends,’ Trevor said. The tone of
his voice hinted that he could perhaps be swayed, if fact, and not fiction,
were used in the argument.

‘Such as?’

‘The fact that there are millions of Christians left
after
the Rapture. Some of them even well known Evangelists and Preachers.’

A waiter interrupted, and the two of them each ordered
a refill.

Andrew lowered his eyes. ‘We weren’t really Christians,
Trev,’ he said after the waiter had left. ‘We claimed to be, but we weren’t.
The lukewarm got spat out and I only found that out after it was way too late.’

‘But
millions
?’

Andrew nodded. ‘The deception was greater than anything
we could ever have imagined; and it’s going to get a
lot
worse before
it’s all finally over.’

‘Let’s assume for a minute that you’re right, and that
it was the Rapture, and I’m not saying that it was, but let’s assume...does
that mean that the Antichrist will make his appearance?’

The waiter brought their order and Andrew dismissed him
with a smile. His smile suddenly disappeared and his face became utterly
serious. ‘Trev, the Antichrist has already made his appearance.’

‘So you
still
think that it was Victor Yoshe?’

‘No...it
is
Victor.’

Trevor shook his head. ‘Newsflash: Victor is
dead
.’

‘Not for too long,’ Andrew said. ‘You know the story.
Your parents or Norman doubtless told it to you before...’

‘Too many times,’ Trevor confirmed, and for a second, a
hint of sadness flashed in his eyes as he thought back.

‘So you know what the head wound will do, right?’

‘That ‘head wound’ theory is groundless, Andy,’ Trevor
said. ‘There are hundreds of other—equally groundless—theories of what it
really could be. The most probable theory is that it’s a powerful country that
has a financial crash or something to that effect.’

‘You will see,’ Andrew said, ‘the head wound
will
heal itself just as prophesied in Revelation...and then...then you will
believe...’

Trevor rolled his eyes. ‘Let’s assume that by some
freak accident of nature, Victor
does
come back from the dead,’ he said
and deliberately took a sip of his coffee to stall for time, ‘would the rest of
the world now...realize...that he is the Antichrist?’

‘Not necessarily,’ Andrew admitted. ‘But because of
what he said in the Temple, it would be a
lot
easier to convince some of
the people of that fact.’

‘How so?’

‘You know that wind that shattered windows just after
Victor had declared himself God in the Temple?’ Andrew said.

Trevor acknowledged.

Instead of continuing immediately, Andrew now took a
deliberate sip of his coffee to stall for time. He was about to speak when he
stopped himself and took another sip.

‘The wind...?’ Trevor goaded him.

‘That strong wind was the pouring out of the Holy
Spirit; the
re-pouring
of the Holy Spirit to be precise.’

‘The scriptures don’t prophecy a second pouring out...’

‘Not if you just read it off hand, no.’

‘Whoa,’ Trevor said and raised his hand. ‘Are you going
to give me some sort of cult like scriptures-by-numbers tour around the Bible?’

Andrew smiled. ‘Not at all.’

Trevor lowered his hand. ‘Go on…’

‘Almost all prophecy has a double fulfilment. Many of
the prophecies about Jesus will be fulfilled again in the Antichrist and his
time. The ‘
I shall pour out my Spirit on all flesh
’ scripture has just
been fulfilled...again.’

‘Okay, I’ll give you that for now,’ Trevor said. ‘You
were going to tell me why the Jews fled from Jerusalem.’

‘Yes,’ Andrew said. ‘Remember that book that I borrowed
from you?’

Trevor nodded.

‘According to the book, one hundred and forty four
thousand Jews were sealed by God on the day that Victor declared himself God.
Those Jews then somehow instinctively realized who and what Victor is and that
Jesus Christ alone is the Messiah. They then fled, for the time of the
Antichrist’s wrath is at hand. Most of them are scattered throughout the world,
and thus the true Gospel about Jesus will be spread again before the second
coming.’

Trevor frowned. Andrew’s theories were valid, but not
enough for him to go
Jesus hunting
straight away. He would wait
until—and only
if—
Victor comes back from the dead before putting any
serious thought into their conversation. ‘One last thing,’ he said. ‘The Shield
of Victor...you think that it’s...’

‘The Mark of the Beast,’ Andrew finished his sentence.

Trevor nodded. ‘Just like the Barcode used to be...or
the Credit Card...or even
e-commerce
.’

‘This is different,’ Andrew said. ‘Soon you won’t be
able to do
anything
if you don’t have it. I just pray that you’ll be
able to resist it when your time comes.’

‘I’ll decline it for now,’ Trevor said, ‘Since there’s
no use for Victor’s ‘protection’ if he isn’t here to supply it to me. But I
must warn you that if your theories prove to be only that:
theories
...I
wouldn’t hesitate to take it.’

‘Understood,’ Andrew said and shot up a prayer that
Trevor would realize the truth before it would ever reach that point.

‘I have to go now,’ Trevor said as he motioned for the
waiter. ‘But I’ll keep my eye on the news for that
thing
you said was
going to happen at some time.’

Andrew smiled. ‘You do that,’ he said and pushed back
his chair to show that he would be on his way too.

‘Will that be all?’ the waiter asked as he placed the
bill in front of Trevor.

‘That will be all,’ Trevor confirmed. ‘Thank you.’

Paying with the Smart Card took some time because of
‘electronic technicalities,’ and for a split second, Trevor wondered if the
Shield was really such a bad idea.
If I had the Shield
, he thought to
himself,
I would have been gone by now
.

- - -*  *  *- -
-

‘Where have you been?’ René asked
as Trevor pushed his motorcycle to its allocated spot.

‘I had some coffee with Andrew,’ he said.

‘Well, you’re back just in time for Pope Alexander’s
statement.’

‘Statement?’ Trevor asked. ‘About what?’

‘About who killed Lord Yoshe.’

‘This I have to see,’ he said and took his place next
to her on the sofa. He wondered how she had managed—in over three years—to
suppress any feelings for him. If she had any feelings at all, she hid them
well, and as long as she hid hers from him, he would hide his from her. For a
moment he actually considered telling her how fond he had grown of her the past
three years, but the face of Antonio Pascale on the television screen stopped
him short.

‘It is with great sadness and remorse,’ Antonio said,
‘that I address you here today.’ Cameras flashed as he spoke. ‘The assassin of
our Lord and God has been identified as a man called Michael Abrahams; a
Messianic Jew.’

‘A
what
?’ René asked. Trevor didn’t answer, he
just leaned forward.

‘This man has been linked to a group of fundamentalist
terrorists who were responsible for the numerous bombings that started in Bali.
This group is also believed to have been affiliated to the two—now
dead—prophets, who are, as we suspected, linked to the aliens.’

 ‘I knew it,’ René said, but Trevor stayed focused
on the television set.

‘This terrorist threat has to be dealt with swiftly and
harshly. To do so I have created a monument in honour of our late Lord; one
through which he can communicate to us from beyond the grave. To flush out the
terrorists, all those within the Empire are to kneel down before the monument
and declare our sovereign leader Victor the one and only true God. Those who
don’t, are clearly part of the opposition group, and will be arrested by
N-Force officers. They will be delivered the maximum penalty allowed by law:
death.’

‘They deserve it,’ René said.

‘Through this monument, our leader will offer us
messages of hope and love. Through love we shall conquer this terrorist cancer.
Through love we will overcome our enemies.’ He waited a few seconds and
concluded, ‘If you are not with us, you’re against us. Thank you.’

Cameras flashed as he walked off the stage and
disappeared behind a stage curtain. Trevor muted the television.

‘René,’ he said. ‘If Victor was to come back from the
dead, what would you say?’

‘Is this some kind of sick joke?’ she asked.

‘No,’ Trevor said, ‘I just want to know what you would
think about something like that.’

René thought for a minute. ‘It would confirm my
beliefs,’ she finally answered.

‘And that is...?’

‘That he really is God.’

- - -*  *  *- -
-

Malcolm unzipped the flap of his
tent and squinted as the sun stung his eyes through a thin patch of clouds. He
stretched his limbs as he scanned the surrounding terrain. More had come during
the night. They were everywhere now; a small city of tents. Tens of thousands
of Jews as far as the eye could see were all around him, washing clothes,
stoking fires, loading and unloading their cars. There was no leader; no one to
tell them what to do or where to go. They just sat there, waiting for someone
to take the lead.

‘Good morning, Mikael,’ he greeted his neighbour who
was on his way to collect some water. ‘Beautiful morning, isn’t it?’

Mikael just grunted as he walked past. He still wasn’t
properly awake yet.

A young man in his early twenties ran up to Malcolm.
‘Sir...’ he said and leaned forward to catch his breath. ‘It’s official,
sir...’

‘What is it, Ian?’ Malcolm asked. ‘What is official?’

Ian breathed heavily, trying to catch his breath
properly before continuing. ‘War has just been declared against those
responsible for Victor Yoshe’s death.’

‘And? Who are they holding responsible?’

‘Messianic Jews, sir,’ the young man said and paused
for a brief moment, a hint of fear escaping from his voice. ‘They’re blaming us
!
’