Rebellion! The Decision
© 2018 iUniverse, Inc., © Steve Fleming 2024
Chapter 1
Two spiritual beings met in the command center of a spacecraft orbiting Earth. One was a tall, slender gentleman dressed in a formal black military uniform trimmed in gold. His piercing, gunmetal gray eyes, complementing his towering physique, contrasted sharply with his albino complexion.
Also dressed in formal attire, Caligastia was beaming with confidence bordering on arrogance. “I am being considered for the post of Planetary Prince of Earth,” he said, “a position I am eminently well qualified to hold, as this is my sixth attempt to receive approval from the Celestial Fathers.”
No response. Caligastia, seven feet tall and muscular, face bronzed and body sculpted, stood and walked to a transparent, crystalline window of the spacecraft. Gazing past the darkness of space, he marveled at the beauty of a continent blanketed by Earth’s fifth glacial advance.
Caligastia smiled as he turned and took a step toward his superior. After a few uncomfortable moments of silence, he continued. “No one has richer preparatory experience or better prospects at succeeding than I.”
Finally acknowledging Caligastia’s presence, the Sovereign shook his head and frowned. “Your petition for the post of Planetary Prince has been disapproved several times before,” he said with a look of contempt, “yet you persist.”
Caligastia, caught by surprise at the cold reception, bowed his head slightly. “I am fully capable of performing all the tasks required of a Planetary Prince.” He took a deep breath in an attempt to relax. “I protest against the right of Creator Son Michael to assume control of Nebadon in the name of a hypothetical Paradise Father and require all personalities to swear allegiance to this unseen God.”
The controlled anger beneath Caligastia’s voice made the Sovereign examine him a little more thoroughly. He walked across the room to a monitor on his desk. The moment he flicked his wrist, the screen began flashing information.
The Sovereign turned around and took a few steps toward Caligastia, his body visibly enlarging. “I have inspected the choices for ninety-nine of your staff,” he said with a venomous stare. “One is missing.”
“I have yet to decide on my third in command,” Caligastia said. He returned the being’s piercing glare without any sign of weakness.
The Sovereign, his physique returning to its normal state, chuckled and turned away. “Why are you having difficulty, Caligastia? Tens of millions have the proper ascension training and leadership qualities to be your third in command.”
“That is the problem, sir. I want someone who is lacking in ascension training.”
Eyebrows were raised.
Caligastia, sensing that he’d hit upon a sensitive subject, escalated his argument. “I feel far too much time and energy are expended on training ascending mortals.”
“As do I,” said the Sovereign, intrigued. A moment of contemplation transpired. “Continue. Who will head your staff on Earth?”
“My second in command will be Hammone of the Lanonandek order. My chief of staff and third in command will come from an early ascension training school.” Caligastia stood with his back to the Sovereign. “I believe that a personality with a lack of credentials will be easy to control and manipulate if support of the staff is needed in the future.”
Suddenly, the Sovereign’s fury permeated the room. The spacecraft shook in response. “Just what, Caligastia, do you think is coming in the future that will require the manipulation of your staff?” he snapped, his entire body expanding with inner rage. “Your staff will support you and follow your lead without question and without need of manipulation!”
A loud boom and a bright flash of energy sparked just outside the craft. Caligastia’s glass shattered on the floor.
“If you have doubts about the loyalty of any staff member,” commanded the Sovereign, “remove them now! Is this completely understood?”
Caligastia spun around. “Yes, sir,” he said. Priority number one, staff loyalty, he thought, his mind reeling.
“Do you have anything to add before we formalize these proceedings?” asked the Sovereign, in total command.
“No, my lord,” Caligastia replied, blood drained from his face.
The spiritual being’s tone was deep and ominous. “I, Lucifer, System Sovereign of Radania, absolute ruler of 608 inhabited worlds located in over five hundred different physical solar systems, now officially proclaim you, Caligastia, Planetary Prince of Earth.”
Lucifer vanished.
Chapter 2
The crab nebulae, colored gases and billions of stars floated across the screen that covered the entire front wall of the classroom. The screen, alive with the essence of the universe, vibrated, glowed and breathed with an intense spiritual vitality that discreetly observed this training of young souls.
“A part of our local universe, Nebadon,” the schoolteacher whispered. Her angelic features were a stark contrast to the simple, unrefined look and feel of the small classroom with its planked hardwood floors, freshly whitewashed walls, large double-hung windows and a nine-foot ceiling. She took a few moments to survey her morning class, pausing and gently smiling at the sight of Lisa and Mendal in the front row, their young faces beaming with anticipation.
Despite his youth, Mendal had a serious, intellectual look. His short cropped brown hair and baby blue eyes had the innocent look of a country boy uncorrupted by the city. Lisa, her ash blond hair in braids down her back, flashed a coquettish smile and gently squeezed Mendal’s hand.
As the teacher recited the morning lesson, she strolled around the room, laying her hand on the shoulder of each student. “All planets that are inhabited by evolutionary mortal creatures have assigned to them a planetary ruler. These Planetary Princes are in immediate command to the System Sovereigns.” Her body-length red hair accentuated her saucer-shaped, sorrel-colored eyes.
One pinwheel constellation appeared on the classroom screen. “A local neighborhood galaxy,” proclaimed the teacher, extending her arm gracefully toward the screen, “Radania.”
The teacher took a few moments to organize her thoughts. She sat on the edge of the mahogany desk and seemed ready to speak, when, without warning, her head jerked upward in response to a mental broadcast.
“I’ve just been informed that this will be Mendal’s last class,” said the teacher, glancing at Mendal. She paused and listened to a repeat of the mental transmission. “Mendal will be given his final testing and, if he passes, he will begin his ascension career immediately.”
The classroom burst with chatter and gossip. Lisa gave a startled gasp. From the commotion, it was clear she and the other students had no idea Mendal was ready to graduate.
Again, the teacher’s head jerked upright in response to a mental broadcast. She nodded before motioning the classroom to quiet down. “Lisa will accompany Mendal and Radania will be the starting point for their ascension. They will begin at the bottom of the evolutionary cycle, in association with the human level of development.”
“You mean Mendal is ready to begin his ascension career?” asked Johan, astounded. “And at the human level? Isn’t that the most difficult in all physical reality?”
The teacher, uncertainty showing on her face, tilted her head upward. After a few moments, she slowly nodded.
The children quickly gathered around Lisa and Mendal. “Everyone knows you’re ready for graduation, but how could Mendal be?” a friend whispered in Lisa’s ear. “You’re clearly smarter and much more mature.”
Lisa nodded. Another friend placed a comforting hand on her shoulder. “Will you become a Life Carrier, Lisa?” he asked.
“I hope so,” Lisa stammered. She seemed unsure of what to expect from this sudden turnaround in her young life.
“I want to be a Life Carrier, too,” Mendal added, his voice quavering. He and Lisa stood and gave each other a fond embrace.
“Yeah, we all know you just want to follow your girlfriend,” Johan said, snickering. “What Lisa wants, Mendal wants.” A number of the students nodded in agreement.
The teacher, ending the session, turned off the wall screen and left the room. “Why are you taking the most difficult route in ascension, Mendal?” asked a classmate. “We don’t have to live actual physical lives to advance. And the Nebadon universe? Do you realize what you’re getting into?”
Mendal smiled fearlessly as he walked out of the classroom with his colleagues. “If I’m going to take a ride through life, I want it to be the wildest ride possible!”
Chapter 3
Entering the principal’s office, Mendal took a seat in the only available chair.
“Mendal, the results from your finals are in and you have passed.” The principal smiled. The principal rose from his desk and walked Mendal to the wall screen, which now displayed Mendal’s destination. “Recently a scouting party,” said the principal, “has returned with their findings regarding the adaptation of a small planet in the Lucene solar system.”
The young planet Earth, partially obscured by cloud cover, glowed in breathtaking brilliance. “This sphere is relatively insignificant and would be an honorable start for a young, inexperienced personality such as yourself.”
The principal typed on the keyboard, then read out loud the message that appeared on the monitor. “Life does not spontaneously appear in the universes; the Life Carriers must initiate it on the barren planets. After planting life on new worlds, they remain for long periods to nurture, support and develop this fragile existence.”
Mendal whooped; his yell echoed through the hallways. The principal frowned at Mendal’s outburst. Mendal quickly regained his composure and left the office.
Chapter 4
Mendal and his two associates reached their destination on Earth at the Eurasian-African life implantation region. The landscape consisted of a forest and waterfalls that glistened in a warm summer sun. Their campsite bordered a stream that connected to the ocean bay.
The tall, ivory-skinned female Life Carrier, her long blond hair pulled back in a ponytail, stretched and slowly walked from her tent to the stream, an instrument pack by her side. Lisa stooped down and placed the instrument into the water, testing for the presence of sodium chloride. Her almond-shaped, honey-colored eyes underscored her high cheekbones and elegant features.
She climbed up the steep embankment and walked toward a small, single-story block building. Senior Life Carrier Don, with short-cropped, jet-black hair and delicate Asian features, appeared from behind the building. “Lisa, how’s the testing going today? Any increase in the sodium chloride content?”
“Miniscule,” she responded. “However, any increase at all gets us closer to our goal.” She smiled, and then sighed. “To tell you the truth, Don, I’d just as soon stay here as long as possible. This peaceful life is addicting. I could live here on Earth forever.”
“Yeah, well, remember, we only have a half-million years to go,” Don chuckled.
Lisa rolled her eyes as they entered the building. Lisa spotted Mendal hunched over a computer terminal in the back. He was oblivious to anything but his project, as usual.
Mendal’s physical body was tall, thin and lanky. His hair was bleached blond by the sun and his shoulders were slightly curved from slouching over a computer terminal. His long, slender face was unshaven. He didn’t allow himself time for such luxuries.
“I’m glad you picked him as our computer expert,” Lisa said, with an involuntary smile, “and not me.”
“So am I, Lisa,” Don replied. “Computers are definitely not your strong point, but I promise I’ll get you training someday.”
Mendal finally noticed Don and Lisa, got up, stretched and moved in their direction. Suddenly, all three jerked their heads upward; an emergency computer warning! Lisa and Mendal dashed toward the nearest terminals and, urgently working on respective computers, deciphered the data flashing on their screens.
“Code BR433, Don,” Lisa said calmly. She looked to Mendal for corroboration.
“Yes, I’ve confirmed that,” Mendal said. “This is a level one emergency, Don. What are the specifics?”
“A series of corrupted drives have disrupted the computer-controlled life-purification system,” Don called out to his colleagues as he interpreted the computer data.
“You’ll have to restore their memory, Don,” Lisa said. “How serious is the problem?”
“I don’t have time to manually repair them,” said Don, his eyes widening in alarm. “It’s possible that our entire supply of Earth’s biological life patterns could become corrupted!”
Mendal jumped up, ran to a storage compartment and took out a mental-linkage device. “I’m going to network myself directly to the computer,” he said. “We’ve worked too hard to lose everything.”
Lisa rushed to Mendal and waited for his instructions. Don continued his calculations. “Contamination will commence within minutes,” Don concluded, perspiration running down his face.
“Lisa, connect me to the computer terminal now!” Mendal shouted. She attached a wire to Mendal’s left temple and the other end to the computer terminal. A jolt of electrical current gripped his neck muscles, forcing his eyes to roll back in his head. “Don’t disconnect me, Lisa,” Mendal said between gnashed teeth, “I’m searching the files.”
Several minutes passed. “Nothing’s changed,” Don said. “We’ve got thirty seconds, Mendal.”
Not deterred by the failure of the established method of psychic-aided computer communication, Mendal rushed to the door of an adjoining room. “I’m going to spirit-activate the link,” he said, “and stop the contamination.”
“No, Mendal,” Don said frantically, “that will end your mortal existence. Lisa, stop him!”
Lisa, her eyes transfixed on Mendal, neither said nor did anything to deter him.
“I’m in charge here, Mendal,” Don said, bolting from his computer desk. “Don’t do it! There must be another option.” He grabbed Mendal by the arm.
Mendal hesitated for only a moment. I can’t let this disaster happen, he thought. Earth won’t get a second chance. He jerked away from Don’s grasp, opened the door to the room and entered. Within moments, a flash of energy linked Mendal’s spirit with the computer. His body crumpled lifeless to the floor.
Don and Lisa rushed into the room. Don smashed open the emergency first-aid case with the heel of his hand and grabbed a pressure syringe. He rushed to Mendal, tore open his shirt, placed the instrument precisely over his heart and entered a depth setting. He took a deep breath and pushed the injection button. “Live, Mendal!” he shouted.
After ten minutes, Don and Lisa reluctantly gave up. Mendal was dead. “Mendal’s loyalty to us and this experiment in life-pattern initiation will allow us to continue,” Lisa whispered, looking upward, as if talking to someone unseen. “He was a loyal, devoted Life Carrier.”
✶ ✶ ✶ ✶
Lucifer smiled. He had watched the entire episode on one of fifty monitors inside his home planet. “He’s the one, isn’t he,” sneered Satan. “Yes,” said Lucifer. “Yes, he is.”
Chapter 5
“Where am I?” Mendal muttered as he instinctively walked through the doorway into a strangely familiar office. He looked around. He had been here before. This is where he received his Life Carrier assignment. His memory returned. Did I stop the contamination? he wondered.
“Yes, you did,” said the principal, standing from behind his desk. “Your existence as a Life Carrier on Earth is over, though. You have returned to the Academy.”
Mendal, his physical body now matured to twenty-eight years of age, was confused and disoriented.
“Mendal, welcome back,” the principal said with an earnest, cheerful expression. “It’s rare to have a student return for reassignment.”
The principal put his arm around Mendal’s shoulders. “Normally, only one life is allowed on Earth,” he said, walking him into an adjacent room, “however, because of your loyalty to your mission on Earth, the Most Highs have indicated to me that you may be given another.”
The room they entered was furnished with only a large, oval table, two chairs and a refreshment cooler. “It seems someone has taken a great interest in you, Mendal; someone important,” the principal said, as he left the room.
After a few minutes, Mendal stood. I bet there’s a quantum probability computer somewhere in this room, he thought. He walked around and inspected the walls for any sign of a hidden terminal.
A handle protruding from the wall behind Mendal’s desk drew his attention. A pull of the handle lowered the probability computer. I guess it won’t hurt to take a quick look, he thought. I want to see where Earth’s headed.
He placed the computer on a small table, but then he hesitated and slowly stepped away. It’s against the rules, he thought, heading back to his chair.
“Do it, Mendal.” Mendal froze.
“Do it!”
He felt a presence in the room. A powerful presence.
He walked back to the probability computer, his heart hammering. He typed in a few commands. I don’t know the access code, he thought, clearly perplexed by all that was happening.
Suddenly, his fingers struck the keyboard without conscious awareness: Access granted. Earth probabilities.
That was easy, he thought, with a tinge of guilt. Looking at the screen, he gasped. His body twitched and the hair on the back of his neck rose. He hit the replay button. This can’t be true, he thought, petrified.
A noise broke Mendal’s concentration. He turned his head to see Lisa enter the room. “Lisa!” He took a deep breath, regained his composure and walked toward her.
She smiled, pulled back her long blond hair and embraced him. “I didn’t think I would ever see you again,” she said with a deep sigh, holding him tightly against her.
“I’m not that easy to get away from,” Mendal joked, unable to take his eyes off her face. Her body, slim and toned, was more alluring than he’d remembered.
“I disturbed you. What were you working on?” Lisa asked, looking at the probability monitor suspended from the wall. “That’s an odd program you’re in.”
“It’s nothing.” Mendal quickly turned off the screen and returned the probability monitor and keyboard to its hidden position.
“I’ve heard you’ll be given another physical life on Earth,” Lisa said softly.
“Nothing’s official yet,” said Mendal, “but it’s in the works.” Soon, he hoped. He was anxious to get back to work.
“Do you know what your assignment will be?” she asked. “I’d be honored to have you return to work with Don and I.”
“They haven’t said yet,” Mendal replied, “but since my life will be on Earth, I imagine I’ll be back with you two.”
Lisa smiled. “Don and I put in a reinstatement request. That should help your cause.”
“Thanks, Lisa.” Mendal put his arm around her and gently squeezed. He couldn’t help but think of all the good times they had as kids back in school, and as Life Carriers. It seemed to him as though they’d always been together. “How’s Don?” he asked.
“Don’s great, as usual. You can’t break that spirit of his,” Lisa said. “Earth has been designated a prototype decimal evolutionary planet. Word is if man doesn’t appear as projected, heads will roll.”
The principal walked into the room. “Lisa, Don needs you back on Earth,” he said, his voice tight and strained.
Lisa, irritated by the interruption, looked at the principal and rolled her eyes. She then kissed Mendal on the forehead. “It’s been wonderful visiting with you, Mendal,” she whispered. “I’m so glad I came.”
“Mendal,” said the principal, “my assistant is ready to brief you on your assignment.”
Mendal stood and gently kissed Lisa on the lips. “Goodbye, Lisa,” he said, passion in his eyes.
“Time is crucial,” said the principal with urgency. “I had no idea you would receive this appointment.”
Chapter 6
Daligastia, the son of Caligastia and the mayor of the city of Dalamatia, enjoyed his morning walk and a rare solitary moment. Only the sound of birds broke the morning silence. He never missed an opportunity for a relaxing stroll outside the city’s forty-foot-high walls.
Years of living on a primitive planet added muscular bulk to his original genetically altered physique. Blond hair complemented his Nordic good looks and this allure helped him maintain a powerful control over the city. He inherited his father’s legendary temper and the ability to control people with few spoken words.
Smoke and crackling campfires of the local tribespeople signaled the beginning of another day. Daligastia smiled at the serenity of Earth life and began the short walk back to the city of Dalamatia, the first capital of Earth.
A cloud of dust brought his attention to a figure running down the hillside north of the city. The figure waved frantically as he approached. Why the urgency? Daligastia wondered. He walked to the middle of the meadow and patiently waited for the aide’s arrival.
“Sir, a seraphic transport has just arrived from Lucifer’s home planet,” the young aide stammered, out of breath.
“What? Lucifer isn’t due for another six months!” Daligastia quickly contemplated the situation, then turned to the aide. “Go back to the city and inform my father of Lucifer’s arrival. He’ll know what to do.”
“Yes, sir.” The aide turned, but before he could leave, the System Sovereign’s transport, glowing silver in the bright sunlight, rose from the landing site on the hilltop to the north, hovered for an instant, then appeared directly above both of them. Five figures materialized ten feet from Daligastia. The aide dashed to the city walls.
Lucifer, wearing a loose-fitting, body-length, black military uniform, showed no expression on his pale, ghostly white face. His straight, shoulder-length, coal-black hair dropped lifeless to his shoulders. His seven-foot height projected an appearance so slim it was as if no body existed inside his coat.
“Lucifer will not speak during this meeting,” said one of his four lieutenants. They were all similar in appearance: six-foot-six-inches tall, square-jawed, with short, buckskin colored hair. They wore formal black and gold military uniforms. “I will handle everything. My name is Karl.”
Lucifer’s lieutenants, Daligastia thought, responding with a brisk nod. I’ve heard about these pretty boys.
“The site of our planet’s headquarters is named Dalamatia, my lord,” announced Daligastia to Lucifer. “This is an ideal region on Earth in climate and landscape. We have access to both the ocean and a forest, which is populated by the native Earth tribes. Eventually, all the inhabitants of Earth will have access to Dalamatia by land, sea and air.”
Lucifer turned and walked a few feet back toward the grassy meadow. Standing straight and tall, he tilted his head upward, and then, with a series of long, deep breaths, he appeared to enter a meditative state.
Daligastia, bewildered by Lucifer’s odd behavior, grabbed Karl’s arm. “What is Lucifer doing?”
“Lucifer sent a portion of himself to a conference today, sir,” Karl said, his voice bold and full of respect. “This is one of a series of consultations with select Planetary Princes of Radania.”
“Is that why he looks so drained and lifeless,” Daligastia asked, his eyes locked on Lucifer. Caligastia walked toward him, but the four blocked his path.
“Do not disturb him or ask any questions, sir,” Karl pleaded. “Radania is approaching a very critical period. Lucifer must be allowed to convince the Princes . . . ” Looks from the others stopped him from continuing.
“Convince the Princes of what, lieutenant?” Daligastia said sharply, his voice tinged with menace. “And why wasn’t my father and I informed of these consultations?”
“He will inform Caligastia when the time is right,” Karl replied bluntly.
Not liking Karl’s tone and response to a direct question, Daligastia lunged at him, his eyes blazing and blood surging to his fists. But before his hands could reach their target, Lucifer placed a calming hand on Daligastia’s shoulder, bringing the incident to an immediate conclusion.
Caligastia arrived and sent his son back to the city. He respectfully pulled Lucifer away for a private talk. “Outside Dalamatia dwell the inferior and primitive human tribes, tribes of all sizes and colors,” said Caligastia, motioning his arm toward the forest in a sweeping gesture. “The first students of our schools will be one hundred selected survivors of the first humans of Earth. They will represent the best strains of that unique race and will be given life circuit implants by the surgeons of Gallon.” Lucifer seemed pleased.
“During that process, samples of their life plasm will be extracted,” Caligastia continued. “They will become assistants to my staff and will be trained to eventually become teachers and leaders of their people.”
Lucifer glanced at Karl. “Lucifer has a question. Have the bodies for your staff been constructed yet?”
“Yes,” replied Caligastia. “The bodies are in the Planetary Health and Life Center. According to the senior Life Carrier, the process went perfectly.”
“Very good,” Lucifer managed to say. “Please continue, Caligastia.”
“These genetically fabricated bodies are awaiting the transplantation of life plasm from the Andonite tribespeople. My staff of one hundred will be attuned to the life circuits the moment they enter their constructed bodies. The operation is scheduled. It will be ten days from today.”
Karl glanced at Lucifer. “Expedite your report. Lucifer must leave.”
Caligastia took a deep breath. “After my staff’s one hundred Andonite assistants have graduated from our schools, they will be sent back to their tribes. Another one hundred will be selected, given the life circuit implants and put through our schooling. This process will be repeated indefinitely.”
Before Caligastia could finish his speech, Lucifer simply nodded his approval and raised an arm above his head to signal a high-flying seraphic transport.
Within seconds, the transport hovered fifty feet overhead. Without any farewell, a beam of energy engulfed Lucifer and he disappeared. Another transport immediately descended from the sky, hovered and, in a flash of energy, the other four officials vanished.
Caligastia took out a handkerchief from his pocket and wiped the sweat from his brow. He walked to the middle of the field and turned to view the budding forest gently giving way to the white sands of the ocean bay. The sound of gulf waves crashing on the beach lulled him into a hypnotic trance. “What a glorious sound,” he sighed. “This is the most beautiful area in the world, if not all of Radania.”
Chapter 7
Lisa and Don walked into the brightly lit surgical room at the Planetary Center of Art and Science where one hundred Andonite tribespeople, the best strains of that unique race, lay unconscious in wall-to-wall hospital-like beds, transfusion devices attached to their arms and chests. Circular, transparent spheres levitated above their heads and crackled with electrical current.
Lisa and Don were checking the status of the Andonites, when a high-pitched noise signaled the arrival of visitors to Earth. “The commission from Gallon,” Lisa said with a sigh of relief. “Finally we can begin the transfusion and implantation process. I’m anxious to get this over with.”
Don and Lisa quickly walked toward a metallic door at the far end of the room. “I’m curious about how this technique works,” said Don. “We’ve read about it in class but having the chance to view an actual life circuit implantation, along with a life plasm extraction, is a rare opportunity.”
Don and Lisa waited at the transportation module to greet their guests. A deep zooming sound, followed by a soft thud, gently shook the building, indicating the arrival of the shuttle. “Well, you would think that, Don,” said Lisa with a forced smile. She pressed the button to open the shuttle door. “I’m a little squeamish about the whole thing. The thought of messing with human brains does not excite me.”
Eight beings stepped out of the module and, without hesitation, proceeded in pairs toward the beds to inspect their patients. They were short and without exterior clothing to cover their sexless bodies. As they worked, the beings seemed to be receiving mental messages and moved smoothly from bed to bed without apparent need for help; they took no notice of Don or Lisa. Lisa dared not interfere, though she was a bit taken back by these surgeons from space.
When one of the Gallon doctors began the implantation procedure, the electrical charge generating from the levitating spheres into the minds of the unconscious Andonites greatly increased. Another doctor extracted human plasm, with the help of transfusion machines, and placed the fluid in sealed containers. The process took just a few minutes and seemed to have no noticeable effect on the comatose tribespeople.
Don pulled out a pad and pencil from his backpack and began taking notes. Remembering the latest news, he turned to Lisa. “I just received notification of Caligastia’s staff assignments. Guess who’s on it.”
“I can’t imagine we’d know anybody on that list,” she said, hoping Don was referring to himself. “It’s a very prestigious honor just to be considered for a position on his staff.”
Don put his arm around Lisa’s shoulder and whispered in her ear. “Our friend Mendal.”
Lisa pulled away and looked at Don. “What!” She looked around making sure her outburst hadn’t disturbed the surgeons. “He wasn’t even ready for his assignment with us.”
Don, barely able to control the humor he found in his secret, continued with sadistic delight. “Not only that, but he’s also third in command, directly below Hammone!”
Lisa frowned. “This is very serious,” she muttered, almost to herself. “Something is wrong . . . very wrong. Mendal can’t handle an assignment like that, Don, he’s too inexperienced. Even I would make a better third in command.”
Don motioned Lisa to quiet down so he could concentrate on the delicate procedures being performed by the Gallon surgeons. I’m going to look into this further, Lisa thought.
✶ ✶ ✶ ✶
Caligastia entered the recovery room of the Planetary Health and Life Center. Fifty male and fifty female flawless, perfectly proportioned, constructed superhumans occupied the very large hospital-like beds. As a nurse read the individual patient charts of these members of the Prince’s staff, Caligastia walked up and spoke to him. “How did the surgical procedures go?”
“Perfectly,” answered the nurse, handing him a briefcase. “The staff, including your third in command, are now rematerialized in their constructed bodies, attuned to the life circuits of the system and have the life plasm of the tribespeople flowing through their veins. They will soon awaken and have full use of their superbodies.”
“And the one hundred Andonite tribespeople, where are they?” asked Caligastia.
“They have fully recovered from last week’s operation,” the nurse replied. “To awaken and have access to the life circuits was a shock, but they have been handled with great care and compassion. They are touring Dalamatia as we speak.”
Caligastia scanned the room, as if looking for someone. “Has Hammone, my second in command, arrived?” Caligastia called out to the nurse. “He’s late. I want him here to personally inspect the staff before they become conscious.”
“Yes, sir, he just arrived,” the nurse replied as he walked out of the room.
✶ ✶ ✶ ✶
Gazing out his office window, Hammone twitched when the door opened. Caligastia and three subordinates entered. Hammone spoke nervously, his frail build and shorter stature a stark contrast to the physique of the four men standing in front of him. “I have been wanting to talk with you, Caligastia.” He looked at the others and hesitated. “In private.”
“Anything you need to say to me, you can say in front of my aides,” Caligastia replied, with a hint of anger.
“I have been going over the staff assignments and I have a problem with one,” Hammone said, fidgeting. He removed his hat and revealed a shaved head. “A big problem.”
“And what, may I ask, could that ‘big problem’ be?” Caligastia asked. His aides took a step back at his harsh tone.
“I have an objection with the appointment of Mendal as third in command,” Hammone said. “He has no experience, training or-”
“You, Hammone, worry about your assignments and responsibilities!” Caligastia yelled. “You arrived late and then didn’t immediately report to your supervisor! That is me, Hammone, in case you’ve forgotten! I run this operation, and I will not be told what to do by anyone but Lucifer! Is that understood?”
“Yes . . . yes, sir. I . . . I just haven’t met with Mendal yet and I was concerned that he wouldn’t be ready for his duties,” Hammone stammered. “When I meet him, I’ll check him out and report to you, sir.”
“I’ve already checked him out,” Caligastia said, regaining control of his anger. “He arrived early.” Caligastia glanced toward Mendal and motioned him forward. “Mendal, step up and meet your supervisor.”
Mendal did as instructed. Hammone, with a startled and embarrassed look, reached out his hand in apology, but Mendal refused to shake it. He looked Hammone square in the eyes, but his face betrayed no emotion.
“Well, Mendal, let’s just see how long it takes for you to replace him,” Caligastia said, vigorously slapping him on the back. The four chuckled and left the room. Hammone lowered his head, sighed and went back to looking out the window.
Chapter 8
Lisa rubbed the sleep from her eyes and sluggishly climbed out of bed. “What’s wrong with me? I can’t sleep,” she mumbled, looking at the clock on her nightstand. “Four A.M.” Lisa shook her head in frustration and walked to the bathroom for a morning shower. A sharp rap on the front door startled her. She turned and again looked at the clock. “Who is it?” Lisa yelled.
“Your chauffeur, ma’am,” the voice replied boldly. “I was told you would be expecting me.”
“At four in the morning?” Lisa said, annoyed.
“Yes, ma’am,” the anonymous voice replied. “I am to fly you to Lucifer’s planet in his private transport to discuss the correspondence you sent.”
“The correspondence?”
“You sent a communication to Lucifer at 18:02 hours yesterday, ma’am,” said the voice. “He wants to discuss it with you.”
How could he have gotten it so quickly? she thought, suddenly anxious.
She stood for a moment, unsure of what to do.
“Now, ma’am,” said the voice.
Her anxiety was replaced with pure fear. She left the bathroom and spoke through the front door. “You’ll have to wait outside for a few minutes while I get ready,” she said, flustered. “This is a complete surprise.”
“Yes, ma’am,” the voice replied.
Ten minutes later, fully dressed in attire suitable for meeting the System Sovereign, Lisa picked up the life circuit communicator on her desk and called Don. Don, pick up, Lisa projected, using her psychic energy.
“Lisa, what is it?” Don asked, finally answering.
“I’m sorry to call so early, Don,” Lisa said in a whisper, her hand cupped over the communicator.
“What’s wrong?”
“I’ve just got a minute,” she said frantically. “I sent a personal communication to Lucifer about my concerns with Mendal’s promotion. I told him someone is making a big mistake. Mendal isn’t ready for that kind of responsibility.”
“I’m glad you got it done so quickly, Lisa. You should be hearing from his staff in a week or so.”
“Don, I just sent the message ten hours ago.” Her voice cracked with fear. “Now his chauffeur’s at my door,” she whispered. “Lucifer wants to meet with me personally. That doesn’t happen, Don.”
“No, it doesn’t.” Don was silent for a moment. “What else did you say in the letter, Lisa?”
“I knew I shouldn’t have,” she whispered.
“What did you say?”
“I was angry,” she moaned. “I’m more qualified than Mendal.”
“Lisa, what did you tell him?”
“I told him I was sending a copy of the correspondence to Michael of Nebadon,” Lisa blurted out. “But I didn’t, Don. I was just trying to show him I was serious.”
“Ma’am, if you do not come out now, I am coming in!” the voice outside said venomously.
“Yes, yes, just one more minute,” she shouted at the door. “Don,” she whispered, “I’m afraid . . . Don? Don, are you there?” His line disconnected. Lisa’s hands shook. She walked to the door and opened it.
“We have to go, ma’am. Lucifer is waiting,” the voice said mechanically.
Lisa gasped at the sight of the figure standing outside her door. He was a seven-foot-tall, human-like creature completely encased in a metallic shell. “Who, or what, are you?” Lisa asked, her eyes wide.
“I do as Lucifer instructs,” said the machine. “We must leave immediately.” They disappeared in a beam of energy.
✶ ✶ ✶ ✶
Lisa fidgeted with a button on her blouse, then quickly straightened at a sound coming from…nowhere, she decided. She sighed, took a mirror and hairbrush out of her handbag and combed her hair. For the third time. In the past half hour. How long have I been here? Three hours? Four? She had no idea.
The small room was empty, void of all furniture except the black leather couch on which she sat. Nothing hung on the dull grayish-brown walls; nothing hung from the ceiling. The room was well lit but she was unsure where light came from. It seemed to emanate through the walls themselves.
She stood up. “I’m leaving,” she said. Maybe he had canceled their meeting. And no one told her. And she was just wasting her time. She took three steps, then abruptly stopped and looked around in astonishment.
The door through which she had entered the room was gone! The only one remaining had “System Sovereign” carved in its mahogany wood. No one enters that room uninvited, she thought, her eyes taking on a hunted look.
Lisa felt watched, then strangely disembodied, almost dreamlike. When she turned to walk back to the couch, her head began spinning wildly. Suddenly, she could see and feel herself being shot through a tunnel. A feeling of falling overlook her, falling through what seemed like the atmosphere of a planet. She hit the ground and felt herself being forced down through hard rock and clay.
She felt intense heat and pressure. Further and further she was forced down until she fell from the top of an underground cavern to the red rock below. The pain was excruciating. What’s happening to me? she thought, recoiling in horror.
“So, Lisa, I’m making a big mistake promoting Mendal,” Lucifer projected into her consciousness.
“No! That’s none of my business.”
“You seem to think it is.”
Grotesque visions of anguished, tortured souls flashed before her eyes. They were everywhere.
“And you sent a correspondence to Michael of Nebadon?”
“No, I didn’t!”
“And I’ll make sure you never do.”
She tried to scream, but no sound came out.
Chapter 9
The one hundred reconstructed staff members gathered in the lush grass and clover meadow outside the walls of Dalamatia for the first organizational meeting of Earth’s administrative government.
Standing before the group, Hammone prepared to address his staff. He looked confident and ready to begin this new era of Earth history. “You are the Caligastia one hundred,” declared Hammone with pride. “Our objective is to recruit the superior individuals from the local tribes, train and inspire them, then return them to their people as teachers and leaders.”
Mendal, as third in command, took his place next to Hammone. His six-foot, seven-inch presence greatly overshadowed that of his superior. Mendal’s constructed body was similar to the local Andonite tribespeople: large, muscularly built, with black eyes and long black hair. He had a swarthy complexion, something of a cross between yellow and red.
“The teachers of the local tribes must be natives of their respective tribes and race,” Mendal said boldly, his tone brisk, business-like. “Only they have the respect that is needed to gain the confidence and trust of their people. A world’s culture, in the eyes of the universe, is measured by the civility of its society.”
After the half-hour lecture, Mendal roamed through the crowd and shook hands with many of the council leaders, giving them much needed encouragement. He was about to return to the meeting when he ran into an old friend. “Don? Is that really you?” Mendal exclaimed. “It’s me, Mendal!”
“Mendal?” Don said, a bit perplexed. After a few moments, he spoke. “It’s good to see you, my friend.” His voice was lifeless. He turned his head away, unable to look Mendal in the face.
Mendal, too ecstatic to notice Don’s frame of mind, hugged him enthusiastically. “Yes, here I am, again. I don’t look at all the same this time, though, do I?” He chuckled.
All Don could manage in response was a slight shake of his head and a guarded, nervous smile.
Mendal looked around, his face flushed with anticipation. “Where’s Lisa?” he finally asked. “I’ve got a big hug and kiss for her.”
Don fidgeted. Mendal could tell he didn’t want to answer. “Well, she’s gone, Mendal,” Don said at last, his voice edged with tension. “She wanted to research something . . . and she just disappeared.”
“What! She disappeared? Nobody just disappears!” Mendal could feel a surge of unfamiliar anger well up inside him. “The life circuits keep track of all spiritual entities.”
“All records of Lisa are gone,” Don said, his eyes misty, his voice quavering. “I don’t know what happened to her, Mendal.”
Mendal threw his hands up in disbelief and grabbed Don by the shoulders. He involuntarily shook him. Hard. “What was she researching that was so important to her?”
Don’s face flushed. He broke away from Mendal’s grasp and started to walk away. “I . . . I don’t know, Mendal. All I know is, she was concerned about something, asking questions, and then Lucifer summoned her to his planet for a consultation.” Don’s body slumped. “She never came back, Mendal. I’m sorry . . . I’ve got to leave now.”
Don turned and disappeared into the crowd. Mendal stared at the ground, shaking his head, shocked at what he had heard. What had happened to Lisa? Thinking of her, he wandered into the forest for a few minutes of personal contemplation.
✶ ✶ ✶ ✶
The staff members gathered for another session. Hammone spoke and Mendal stood aside, still perplexed.
“Special bodies of flesh and bone were created for you,” said Hammone, “so you appear similar to the Earth inhabitants; except, of course, you are attuned to the life circuits of the Radania system.”
“Is there a danger in the tendency of mortals to regard us as gods?” asked Hap, the leader of the college of revealed religion.
Hammone responded emphatically. “Yes, this can be a serious obstacle to your influence as teachers. You must not resort to supernatural methods or to superhuman manipulations.”
Suddenly, a loud rustling and crackling sound came from the woods.
The entire staff turned toward the forest. When nothing happened, Hammone continued. “During the implant process, the mental capacity of the one hundred Andonites was increased significantly. They are now able to grasp and understand more difficult concepts and are able to communicate with us intelligently. Their education and training began a week ago.”
Hammone smiled and motioned toward the hidden tribespeople in the forest. “Our friends are curious about us, especially now that one hundred of them are living inside the walls of Dalamatia.”
Hammone and Mendal prepared to lead the staff back to the confines of the walled city when, suddenly, dozens of tribespeople stormed out of the forest, armed with clubs, spears and knives.
With the speed and agility of wild animals, the first wave attacked the staff with clubs, knocking them to the ground with repeated blows to their legs, heads and bodies. Using crude knives of sharpened flint, a second wave of attackers slit the throats of those beaten to the ground.
Astonished, the one hundred did not defend themselves. They were unaccustomed to any kind of physical fighting. “Run for the city walls!” Hammone shouted, thunderstruck. “Run, don’t stop to fight back, just run!” Hammone remained where he was and mentally activated the transport beams.
The assault now came from the treetops as flint-tipped arrows, ripping through body after defenseless body, were shot at the retreating legion. A dozen staff members fell screaming in the agony of a physical death on a savage, untamed world.
Mendal rushed to one of the fallen staff, picked her up and ran toward the wall. On the way, he saw another with two arrows protruding through his body. He hesitated, not knowing whether to try to save more than one of his dying friends or run to safety.
A tribesman leaped from a tree, drew an arrow and took aim at Mendal. He fired.
At that same instant, Mendal and the others disappeared within a beam of energy transporting them to safety inside the city. The beam of energy returned until each body, one by one, vanished from the bloodied landscape.
From his vantage point behind the walls of Dalamatia, Mendal knew that this celebration represented the end of his people’s naive way of life. They were not used to the violent ways of native Earth beings. Turbulent times surely lay ahead.
Chapter 10
The morning after the massacre, the seventy remaining staff members, plus assistants, gathered in the city courtyard at the temple of the unseen Father for a morning prayer. Hammone and Mendal stood beneath a large fruit-bearing tree that had just arrived as a gift from the Most Highs.
Beneath the tree of life, Hammone led the prayer, then witnessed the tree as a gift to Earth. “Its massive upper branches swoop up toward the heavens to receive a gift from God,” said Mendal at the conclusion of Hammone’s prayer, “while its lower branches droop down to present that gift to the people of Earth.”
“I thought the Tree of Life was just a legend,” said Fad, the leader of the faculty of knowledge. “What can it do for us here on Earth?”
The staff drew closer to the mythical tree and touched the leaves, branches and apple-like fruit. “I’ve been told that the fruit of the Tree of Life releases the life-extension force of the universe when eaten,” said Hammone, with rare intensity. “This superfruit accumulates certain space energies which halt the aging cycle.”
Holding a piece of fruit, Mendal said, “Your feelings of trepidation are well-founded. When the Most Highs were informed of this tragedy, they promptly sent us this tree of life. Those of us who eat the fruit will not only cease to age, but will become invincible, utterly incapable of dying a mortal death.”
Mendal took a bite, and the crowd was awed. With an animated smile, Mendal took a second bite, and then struck a pose of invincibility. The staff smiled.
Ang stepped up to the tree and carefully plucked a piece of fruit. “What if the tribespeople eat the fruit of the tree?” he asked Mendal. “Will they become immortal?”
Others nodded in consensus with the query. “The fruit is useless to the ordinary humans of Earth,” Mendal said, “but when eaten by any of you and your assistants, who have the life circuits flowing through your bodies, your otherwise mortal existence will be extended indefinitely.” A look of relief swept over the faces of many of the staff.
“However,” Mendal continued, “the benefits will gradually diminish if you stop eating the fruit.”
Mendal gestured for all to come up to the tree. “You may now freely partake of the fruit of the tree of life.” In an orderly fashion, each staff member and assistant got in line to eat a piece of the fruit.
✶ ✶ ✶ ✶
Mendal and his tribal assistant Fay leisurely rested from the midday heat under the outstretched branches of the great tree. Mendal looked affectionately at Fay, marveling at her natural earthen beauty and radiance. Slighter in build, although six-feet tall, she had long brown hair and a naturally tanned complexion. The violet hue of her steel-gray eyes gave her face an appealing radiance.
“Fay,” he said, “your race had a remarkable beginning on Earth. Now, however, your civilization must change so that the tribes can advance to another level.”
“They fear you won’t approve of us,” Fay said, “and might destroy everything and start again. My people’s fear,” she said, her voice quavering, “is at times overwhelming to them. As you saw yesterday, in some it has turned into deadly hatred.”
Fay and Mendal stood. “Fay, this is the process of uplifting primitive beings,” he said, taking her hand and strolling away from the others, “and has been used on literally millions of planets in this universe alone. Without our teachings, man would never break away from his rituals, superstitions and natural hostilities toward other tribes.”
Suddenly realizing how late it was, Mendal pulled away from her. “I need to preside over a council staff meeting this afternoon,” he said a bit reluctantly. “Since you’re now my assistant, we’ll have plenty of time to talk and discuss these new ideas.”
After Mendal left, Fay looked around at the other staffers who had paired with their assistants. They all seemed to be enjoying the day as she and Mendal had.
Chapter 11
Mendal rose early one morning, six months after the arrival of the tree of life. Being third in command had its privileges. He was actually grateful. After all, they lived in this private, custom-built home on the outskirts of Dalamatia in a beautiful, secluded location.
Mendal, preparing for his much-anticipated lecture on the angels of destiny, lifted his head when Fay exited her bedroom naked and politely turned away. Her beauty was truly undeniable and, at six feet tall, she struck quite a tantalizing pose. She dried herself and combed her hair seductively, ignoring his occasional glance. Mendal couldn’t help but wonder if she did this in front of him to tempt him in some sexual way. But she knew the rules and he, as a leader of the community, certainly could not break them.
“I didn’t hear you come in last night,” Mendal said. “Out with friends again?”
“Yes,” she answered, still not fully clothed. “I didn’t want to wake you.”
“Caligastia?”
“And others.”
You’re seeing a lot of him lately, Mendal thought with a tinge of jealousy.
“What are the plans for tomorrow?” asked Fay, changing the subject. “Are we just going to review staff reports all day, or can we do something different for a change?”
“Different? What do you have in mind?” Mendal asked, hoping she had an idea that might break up the monotony. “There’s not much to do that’s different from what we’ve been doing the last few weeks.”
“I want to visit my family,” Fay blurted out.
“What! You mean your tribal family?”
Fay nodded. Then she began to shiver. Tears rolled down her trembling face. She looked at Mendal with a sadness he’d never before seen.
“You’ve been through seminars and counseling, Fay,” Mendal said, holding her gently against him. “You’re not the same person you once were. You’re attuned to the life circuits with mind-implants. I doubt that your people would even recognize you now.” He instantly regretted that last statement.
“They’d know me, Mendal!” Fay cried, pushing him away. “My family would know me! It hasn’t been that long!” Fay couldn’t hold back her grief any longer. She embraced Mendal and held him tightly.
“Fay, we can’t contact any tribe; not yet” Mendal said, gently pulling away from her. “When your training’s finished, you can return to them as a teacher and a leader.”
“I love you so much,” Fay wept, “and I love this new life you’ve given me, but I need to see my family again.”
“No, Fay.” Mendal said sternly. “I just can’t do it. It’s against policy, and I will not violate any system policy.”
“You mean you just won’t do it! You can do anything you want, Mendal, you’re in charge here. You just won’t do it for me!” Fay cried, turned and ran to her bedroom, slamming the door in anger.
At midday, Mendal shut down the computer and gathered his notes and materials for the day’s lecture. Before shutting the door behind him, Mendal turned for one last look to see if Fay had changed her mind. “This will be the first lecture you’ve missed!” he shouted. Still no answer. He shrugged and slammed the door as he left.
✶ ✶ ✶ ✶
The class lasted for over an hour and ended with a standing ovation. Mendal shook hands with many in the crowd, even though he was hurt by Fay’s lack of attendance. Lately, she had lost the zeal she once had for learning about God.
Rejecting numerous social invitations, Mendal slowly walked toward home and the inevitable awkward encounter with Fay. Rounding the last bend on the journey home, Mendal saw a glowing object floating above the branches of a tree across the path: a seraphim angel of destiny. He smiled and quickly walked over to greet her.
“I am honored by this visit, ma’am,” Mendal said, bowing with respect. “What may I do for you?”
“We are pleased by your talk today, Mendal. You educated the Earth people about us and, in turn, they will educate their respective tribes. This will make our work here easier and for this we are appreciative.”
“Thank you, ma’am.”
“But I am not here solely to thank you, Mendal, for you are just doing the job you were intended to do. I am here to relay to you a message from the Most Highs.”
“What! A message from the Most Highs?” Mendal exclaimed. “What do they want to tell me?”
“They feel strongly about this, Mendal. They want you to take Fay back to her previous home in the forest for a visit. This will instigate a desired occurrence. And they want this done as soon as possible.”
“Why is this so important?” he asked, blinking with surprise. “I find it hard to believe—”
“Don’t argue. You have heard and understood me, Mendal. My job is done. Now, do as you’re told!” The angel disappeared, leaving Mendal pondering her message.
Why the urgency and sudden anger? Mendal wondered as he walked home.
Just as Mendal approached the front door of his home, the angel reappeared directly in front of him. “I’m sorry, Mendal, about that unfortunate outburst of mine. It seems some very critical probabilities are converging on Earth soon and you are intimately involved. Take Fay to her home in the forest. If you do not, disaster will follow. Please know that I and the other seraphim are always available to help, whatever may arise.”
Mendal nodded, the angel vanished, and he entered his house to find Fay’s open arms waiting for him.
Chapter 12
Mendal and Fay walked into her tribal village. Twenty tribespeople were gathered around the roaring flames of an open pit campfire, preparing freshly slain deer for the tribe’s evening meal. At the sight of Mendal, they quickly spread out and encircled, the men clutching flint-tipped spears and knives.
The adults were scantily clad in buckskin while the children, naked except for moccasins, peered from behind trees in the forest and from inside rock cliff caves where they lived. They recognized Fay, but fear kept them hidden.
“I’m unharmed,” Fay said in her native tongue. No adult responded, but a child, weeping, yelled Fay’s name and started to run to her. Her mother held her back.
“Don’t be afraid of these visitors from the sky,” said Fay, barely able to control her emotions. “They will make our lives easier. I promise you.”
The tribespeople ranged in height from under five-feet to well over six-feet tall. Their animalistic demeanor nearly intimidated Mendal, even though he was conspicuously taller and bulkier in build. They began to grunt and pound their spears on the ground in unison, signaling others to appear from the forest, including Almed, the tribal leader.
“Father,” Fay said to Almed, her voice quavering, a wounded look in her eyes, “what I learn I will teach you. We will be much stronger.” Almed and the men of the tribe ignored her, their attention firmly on Mendal. They stared at him with predatory expressions, their numbers quickly increasing.
Tears rolled down Fay’s face. She lovingly looked at the children. “The young of the tribe can learn, like I am learning. These gods from the sky,” she said, glancing at Mendal, “can show us new ways to hunt, new ways to grow food, new ways to fight off our enemies.” She received no response, not even from her father.
Fay turned to Mendal. “I’m getting nowhere with you here. My people are afraid of anyone who is not one of them.”
The tribesmen gathered up clubs and rocks, whispered among themselves, and disappeared into the forest.
“The only way they will listen and try to learn these new ideas is if I come alone,” Fay continued, “then they might give us a chance.”
Mendal nodded, his attention firmly on the activity directly behind them.
“I will return later,” she whispered, “and try to explain to them who you are and why you are here.” Fay and Mendal slowly backed away from the campfire.
Once they were in the woods, walking toward home, Fay began to cry. “They couldn’t muster up enough courage to talk to me, Mendal, not even my own family.”
Mendal squeezed her hand but remained alert. He heard footsteps on the ground and rustling in the trees around them. He felt his muscles tense, his fists convulse and adrenaline course through his veins. What was happening to him?
“Sometimes I wish I was still at home in the forest,” said Fay, “and none of this had ever happened.”
Suddenly, eight tribesmen rushed out of the woods, brandishing spears, clubs and rocks. Unarmed, Mendal faced them. Fay screamed.
“I come in peace,” Mendal said, his heart hammering. “I’m a friend of Fay.”
The Tree of Life, he thought. They can’t hurt us. Mendal grabbed Fay. No, don’t take the chance. Protect her! He forced her behind him, his body a shield of protection. Fay shrank to the ground, terrified.
The tribesmen attacked with the ferocity of vicious animals. Spears, thrown with the power to kill instantly, pierced Mendal’s chest. He yanked them out, the jagged flint tips tearing and ripping his skin. But no blood flowed and he felt no pain, just as promised by the tree of life legend.
Two tribesmen jumped Mendal from behind and held him tight. Almed grabbed his hair and jerked his head back with brutal force. Mendal’s throat exposed, Almed’s twelve-inch knife appeared and sliced halfway through his neck. The wound closed up quickly, but the jagged scar remained.
Suddenly, Mendal lost all control. The superhuman creature inside came alive and, easily breaking out of his assailant’s grasp, he spun around and grabbed the first tribesman he saw.
With uncontrolled ferocity and strength, he literally tore the tribesman in half, blood, muscle and body organs saturating the ground around him. Ripping a branch from a tree, he pulverized two who dared approach Fay and threw their dying bodies into the rock cliffs.
As a final warning to keep away from them, Mendal yanked down a tribesman climbing a tree to safety, snapped his neck with one hand and threw his body into a nearby tree stump. Mendal’s power, combined with previously untapped human rage, created a scene of savage death and destruction.
Shocked at what he had done, Mendal fell to his knees in exhaustion. Almed and the remaining three tribesmen retreated into the woods. Fay shrieked in horror. Mendal drew power from his inner soul and quickly regained control over the madness that had suddenly overwhelmed him. Never before had he experienced these human emotions.
Mendal edged away to a nearby creek and washed the blood, skin and bone from his hands and body. He looked around for Fay. He saw her, kneeling by the rock cliffs. Mendal gently lifted and carried Fay to a grassy knoll, holding her tightly against him. Instinctively, she clung to him, refusing to let him go. “We are one now, Mendal,” she said softly, clearly craving the intimacy of his body. “Let’s become one in every way possible.”
Although flushed with desire, Mendal held back. “It’s against the guidelines set by the Most Highs,” he said, laying her down in the tall grass. “We can’t do this, Fay.” He sat next to her, determined to control his powerful yearning.
Fay burst with passion. “I’m not a native anymore. The life circuits flow through my body, and my life plasm flows through your veins,” she whispered seductively in Mendal’s ear, caressing his body. She could no longer restrain her desire for him.
“We can’t do this, Fay. We can’t.” Mendal paused. “At least not physically,” he said after a quick glance upward, “not with animal passion.”
Mendal stroked Fay’s forehead with his massive hand. He then backed her against his chest. He relaxed his body, closed his eyes and reached a meditative state. “Before I was given this body,” he said, “to use while on Earth, when I was a spirit entity and with someone I loved deeply, we would meld our souls and, for an instant, become as one.”
Mendal’s touch aroused the fury of Fay’s lust. “I want to share this pleasure with you, Fay.” Mendal closed his eyes and tilted his head upward toward the heavens. He mentally searched through the spiritual realms while physically caressing Fay’s shoulders, breasts and stomach.
He found her inner soul and began gently stimulating her core animal spirit with his mind. Fay’s body twitched and contorted with excitement. As Mendal’s mental caresses increased to a frantic rate, Fay twisted in elation, lost in ecstasy. She pulled Mendal to the ground, forcing her body on top of his and physically inserting him into herself.
With his eyes still closed, Mendal continued mentally massaging Fay’s soul. After fifteen minutes of furious passion, they burst with a simultaneous orgasm and felt an inner explosion.
Collapsed in exhaustion, Mendal and Fay rested under the shade of a tree. Suddenly, Mendal felt the presence of a distinct spiritual personality; a unique vibratory essence he had never before experienced. He stood and, a few feet to his left, a figure slowly became visible. Within moments, Mendal was face to face with a new breed of creature.
His features are hazy, but his presence is undeniable, thought Mendal. “What are you?” he asked. “Where do you come from?”
The creature radiated energy all around him. “I exist in a different life-functioning level and my name is Zee,” the creature telepathically communicated to Mendal and Fay.
“How are you able to suddenly appear here with us?”
“Your unique spiritual lovemaking released the energy that enabled me to be born on Earth,” Zee communicated.
Mendal and Fay stared at the creature in partial disbelief. His features cleared. He was about seven-feet tall, very broad in the upper body and shoulders, with light gray skin and no hair. “That smile on his boyish face is comforting,” Fay whispered to Mendal, “and despite his large size, he seems calm and peaceful, almost timid.”
“But I feel that’s for appearances only. His energy glow is strong and pulsating, like large wings fluttering against his back and shoulders.”
“I am visible to you, the planetary staff and their assistants because of your connection to the life circuits,” Zee communicated, “but I am not visible to the human tribes.”
“Are you telling us you can travel on Earth undetected by its inhabitants?” Mendal asked, astonished.
“Yes,” communicated Zee. “There are many more of us awaiting release. We are here to be of service to the Prince’s administration, because of our ability to study and observe the world’s races remotely located from the planetary headquarters.”
When Mendal and Fay at last left the forest to return home, the sun was setting. And Zee went with them.
Chapter 13
“Fay, we’re late!” Mendal yelled to the closed bedroom door.
Fay stepped out of her bedroom in a low-cut, sky-blue gown, her full breasts prominently displayed. “Well, dear, we wouldn’t be late if you hadn’t decided, at the last minute, to try to create another creature,” Fay said with a bewitching smile. “We didn’t succeed, but nice try.”
Mendal laughed as they walked out the door. “Well, we’ll just have to try again tomorrow.”
✶ ✶ ✶ ✶
Mendal nervously turned to Fay, who was sitting beside him at one of the circular dining tables inside Caligastia’s formal banquet hall. “And I thought we were late. Here we are, Fay, alone with Zee and everyone’s staring at us.”
Suddenly, Lucifer, Satan and three Planetary Princes entered the elegantly decorated room. All stood with respect and politely applauded their entrance.
Lucifer was dressed in a black tuxedo etched in gold. His razor-sharp appearance, hair pulled back in a ponytail, skin-tight black gloves and an etch and polished facial facade, caused a murmur to roll through the crowd. He removed his black full-length coat and tossed it to one of the Princes. With a broad, embracing gesture, he flashed the crowd his superior grin.
“I’ve never seen Lucifer like this,” Mendal whispered to Fay. “He actually smiled; and for him to acknowledge the presence of subordinates? This is unheard of.”
Fay’s eyes locked on Lucifer. “Lucifer has always been for the common, working man,” she said. “He loves his people and will do anything for them.” Mendal turned to Fay and opened his mouth to speak, but before he could, Lucifer and his group arrived at their table.
Mendal, Fay and Zee immediately stood. Once Lucifer was in position at the head of his table, everyone in the room sat. Lucifer remained standing and took a long look around the chamber, his piercing, steel-gray eyes taking a glimpse, it seemed to Mendal, into the soul of each guest.
Caligastia, with Hammone by his side, walked up the winding staircase and positioned himself behind a podium. “As you know, we are here today to formally announce the midway creatures, beings that function midway between the mortal realms and the angelic realms.”
His voice boomed through the chambers with pride and a certain air of audacity. Instantly, the assembly came to attention. “The Most Highs have granted us permission to bring these creatures into the Earth dimension. With the help of Mendal and Fay,” continued Caligastia, “supermaterial liaisons between all male and female staff associates and their assistants will commence immediately. We will bring into existence as many of these beings as is possible.”
The staffers rose and applauded enthusiastically, eager to try the new physical intimacy.
Satan stood. Mendal had always admired his regal appearance: a stocky, bearded physique, deep red eyes and long red hair. Satan was a large man, more stout than portly, with tough, leathery skin and a beefy, double-chinned face.
Mendal, Fay and the entire crowd immediately hushed when Satan cleared his voice to speak. Mendal felt mesmerized by his presence. Does this happen to everyone he speaks to?
“I am pleased to announce,” said Satan, “that the midway creatures will constitute the intelligence corps of Caligastia’s administration. We will train the midwayers at system headquarters, then assign them to various Planetary Princes in Radania.”
Lucifer nodded, He raised his arms in a glorious gesture and vanished in a beam of light to his personal seraphic transport above.
Mendal whispered to Fay as they prepared to leave. “Lucifer sure loves the spotlight. I’ve heard he has to be the center of attention at every event, that the only person he truly loves is himself.”
Fay glanced at Mendal and frowned. “Be careful what you say, Mendal,” she whispered. “He’s our System Sovereign, and we should always show him absolute respect.” Mendal walked over to mingle with his fellow staff members, pretending not to have heard her.
✶ ✶ ✶ ✶
As Caligastia prepared to depart, he found Satan standing next to him and staring at him with his vivid bird-of-prey eyes. “What is it, sir?” he asked.
“We need to talk right now, in private,” Satan said, his voice taut, his lips curling with anticipation. “This is of the utmost urgency.” They entered Caligastia’s private office.
Inside the office, massive video screens covered the four walls. Each screen portrayed a scene from a different sector of the universe.
Caligastia, leaning against his mahogany desk, tried to hide his uncharacteristic nervousness as he awaited the purpose behind this unannounced meeting between him and Lucifer’s second in command.
“We are preparing to publicly announce our intentions to withdraw the system of Radania from the oppressive influence and control of Michael of Nebadon,” Satan said, his voice brisk, somber.
Caligastia gasped, his face glazed with shock.
Satan motioned him to sit. His commanding stature and brash demeanor reflected the urgency of this situation. “We currently have the support of thirty-seven Planetary Princes,” Satan thundered. “We expect Earth to become the thirty-eighth.”
Caligastia, somehow managing to maintain his composure, sat in a chair at the foot of his desk.
“In the ten thousand systems of Nebadon,” continued Satan, “there have been only two rebellions. They were unsuccessful because the majority of the intelligences failed to follow their leader.”
Caligastia, with just a hint of apprehension, spoke. “How can I be assured that this revolt will be any different than the previous debacles?”
Satan’s energy level jolted Caligastia, nearly knocking him off his chair. “Lucifer will succeed,” declared Satan vociferously, “where others have failed because he will get the support of the majority of personalities in Radania. ‘Majorities rule’ will be the battle cry of the revolution!”
To give himself a few moments of contemplation, Caligastia stood and walked to a wall monitor. After adjusting the controls, he turned and faced Satan. “I believe, as does Lucifer, that the Universal Father is a myth invented by the Paradise Sons to enable them to maintain their rule of the universes in the Father’s name. I support Lucifer in this revolution.”
Satan’s eyes turned a bright, crimson red; his teeth gritted. “Your support means absolutely nothing,” he said with great restraint, “if the majority of intelligent personalities on Earth don’t endorse and follow your lead.” Satan slammed his fist on the table, sending a crack riveting through the mahogany wood. Caligastia turned away, unwilling to face Satan’s anger.
Caligastia walked to the window, trying to get the nerve to say what he was thinking. Finally, without facing Satan, he spoke. “What is preventing Michael of Nebadon from ending this insurrection?”
Satan was infuriated. He stood and strutted toward Caligastia, his hands clenched together in outrage. They gripped tightly, so tightly that blood oozed down his arm and dripped to the floor. He opened his blood-drenched fist, grabbed Caligastia’s shoulder and spun him around. “Michael does not have authority over a System Sovereign such as Lucifer because He has not yet completed His bestowal career!”
Satan swung his arm toward the front video monitor. Instantly, an overview of the Radania system appeared, with the heading, LUCIFER, GOD OF RADANIA. “Until then,” he continued, “if a majority of people follow a System Sovereign into rebellion against Michael, that Sovereign can create his own government in any form he desires.”
Caligastia returned Satan’s glare, but he said nothing.
“To emphasize the importance of Earth to our movement, I’ve recently received highly placed information regarding the location of Michael’s bestowal planet,” said Satan, suddenly calm and collected. “And that planet is Earth.”
Stunned, Caligastia began to tremble. “Of all the millions of spheres to become mortal, He’s chosen my planet Earth?”
“If Lucifer gains control of the planet set aside for the final act in Michael’s accession to universe rule,” Satan growled, “you will be rewarded with whatever you desire, Caligastia.”
A surge of impending power and prestige swelled within him. “A majority of the people on Earth will follow their Prince, I guarantee that!” In a show of solidarity, Caligastia raised a clenched fist.
“Persuade the people of Earth to decide for Lucifer,” Satan said, his voice low, his face a dark mask, “or the rebellion will not succeed.” Satan stretched out his arm and squeezed his fist together until the blood flowed freely, drenching the boots of Caligastia. “If you fail, the Ancients of Days will have no qualms about ending the existence of all involved.”
Caligastia nodded, realizing the full implication of Satan’s words. Satan sneered, snapped his fingers and vanished.
Caligastia breathed a sigh of relief, until he saw the message burned into all four monitors.
“You, Caligastia, hold the fate of Lucifer in your hands. And he is well aware of this.”
Chapter 14
Mendal walked down the quiet cobblestone street toward Caligastia’s private residence. Sunrise was still an hour away. The flickering gaslights heightened the anxious feeling in his gut. Instinctively, he knew what was coming; what he didn’t know was how he’d handle it.
“Halt! Be recognized!” ordered a soldier, appearing from a crevice between two buildings. He was seven-feet tall and wrapped in a charcoal trench coat and hood. His unyielding jaw, bulging eyes and stony expression caused Mendal to jump.
“I’m your superior, trooper. Lower your weapon!” Mendal barked, quickly regaining his composure. Satan’s military, he thought. Ground troops already.
The soldier carefully examined Mendal and stepped back. “Sorry. Sir. Didn’t recognize you,” he stammered. “Only seen your picture. Sir.”
“What are you doing?” Mendal snapped. “It’s an hour before daybreak!” He was shocked by the soldier’s peculiarity.
“Orders. Sir,” the trooper said mechanically. “Keep off the streets. Everyone.” The trooper thought for a moment. “Not you. Sir.”
“How many soldiers came with you, trooper?” Mendal asked, determined to let him know he was not one to be trifled with.
“Two hundred. Sir.”
Mendal turned and walked away. This entire situation was fast approaching an unavoidable catastrophe.
✶ ✶ ✶ ✶
Before he could knock on the door to Caligastia’s residence, it opened. Hammone, his freshly shaven head glimmering from the bright lights inside, nodded. “Welcome. This is a monumental moment in history, Mendal.”
Mendal walked through the doorway, roughly bumping Hammone as he went by. Mendal, a foot taller and a hundred pounds heavier, always used his physical superiority to intimidate his higher-ranking colleague. Mendal did not respect him, and he didn’t care if Hammone knew it. They entered Caligastia’s office and waited. Silently.
Five minutes later, Caligastia entered from a side door. He held a leather-bound text in one hand and two rolled scrolls in the other. “Gentlemen, I have with me the Lucifer Declaration of Liberty,” Caligastia announced. “Lucifer has withdrawn Radania from the control of Michael of Nebadon.”
Hammone, a fanatical gleam pasted on his face, gave Mendal a look of disdain. Caligastia glared suspiciously. Mendal acknowledged nothing. He remembered the day he saw Earth’s probable future, when he broke the rules and saw what he wasn’t meant to see . . . or was he?
“In order for this action to be official, for Radania to be a free and independent entity, a majority of occupied planets must follow Lucifer in his quest for freedom,” Caligastia said, his eyes on Mendal. “I have decided Earth will become the thirty-eighth planet to secede.”
“I fully back you and Lucifer,” Hammone injected at once. “This should have been done—”
“I knew you’d be loyal, Hammone,” Caligastia interrupted. “I know how you think.”
Mendal tried to smile, but he managed just a weak grimace. “Is this final?” he asked, his voice carrying an edge of indignation. “Did you decide for the entire planet, Caligastia? Or does anyone else have a say?”
Caligastia’s features hardened. “Majorities rule, Mendal. Every personality on Earth, human and spiritual, must make the decision to back either Lucifer or Michael. But it has been agreed upon that how the three of us, my one hundred staff and their one hundred assistants decide is how Earth decides.”
Caligastia paced with calculated steps toward Mendal until they were face to face. “The others will follow us if we’re united in our decision, Mendal. Simple as that,” he said. “Simple as that.”
Caligastia unrolled the scrolls he was holding. “Hammone, as second in command, you will be the first to sign this affidavit swearing your loyalty to Lucifer as god of Radania. All previous allegiance to Michael of Nebadon is disavowed.”
Hammone signed without question. Mendal only partially restrained the sneer he felt this man deserved.
“Mendal,” Caligastia said, handing him his scroll, “your turn.”
Mendal turned away and spoke without facing his superior. “I want to know what I’m signing.” He needed more information. It seemed to Mendal that this may be nothing but a thinly veiled power grab.
Caligastia’s eyes narrowed. “I’ll tell you what to sign, Mendal, then you’ll do it!”
“I’ll handle this, Caligastia,” said a voice from an adjoining room. All three turned to see Lucifer enter. He was wearing gray slacks and a black, long-sleeved silk shirt, a gold dragon embroidered on the left chest. His chest and upper body was muscular, much more so than Mendal had ever seen. His luxurious, shoulder-length black hair was highlighted with silver at the temples, accenting his slightly tanned face.
Lucifer gave Mendal a slow, appraising scan. His probing eyes and smirk made Mendal uncomfortable. It was as if Lucifer could see deep inside of him, down into his soul. Is he reading my thoughts this very moment?
All three straightened to attention. Lucifer walked up and rested his hand on Mendal’s shoulder reassuringly. “Mendal, your decision on this matter is yours alone. We are not here to coerce you,” Lucifer said, giving Caligastia a scorching look.
Caligastia lowered his head and nodded, having been properly chastened. His countenance and demeanor was that of a naughty child rebuked by an angry parent.
“Hear me,” Lucifer said, almost whispering in his ear. “Mind is infallible, Mendal. Men and angels need only assert themselves and demand their rights. The Ancients of Days would have no power to interfere in local systems if native beings claimed their independence through revolution. Majorities rule, Mendal.”
“Yes, majorities rule, Lucifer,” Mendal said with a defiant smile. “Majorities rule. You need the support of a majority of the personalities governing Radania to gain independence. And without my compliance you will not have the majority that you need.”
“You’re right,” he replied. “We need your support.” Caligastia and Hammone nodded in agreement.
Mendal looked Lucifer straight in the eyes. “I can’t give it, Lucifer,” he said without hesitation. He knew this answer would not sit well with Lucifer, and he steeled himself for whatever was to come from his animosity.
Lucifer took a deep breath and returned Mendal’s stare. He was fully in the hunt now…and ready to play his trump card. “Remember Lisa?” he said insidiously.
Mendal’s body convulsed. He could feel his throat constrict and the muscles in his stomach tighten. “What have you done to her?” he said, his lips pursed with suppressed fury, a seething cauldron of dread and anger boiling right behind his eyes.
“Not to worry, Mendal. She’s safe with me. We get along just fine.”
Mendal held back. His rage told him to kill Lucifer now, but he knew he couldn’t. Not yet, anyway.
“And your other girlfriend? Fay, isn’t it?” Lucifer continued his merciless taunt. “I’m saving her for Caligastia. She’s not my type, too barbaric and savage.” His face was dark and smoldering. He was studying Mendal for his reaction and seemed amused that he had struck a nerve. “But Caligastia likes them that way,” he added.
Caligastia smiled nervously. He couldn’t look Mendal directly in the eyes. Instead, he kept his gaze fixed upon Lucifer, awaiting his next cue.
“What is the point of all this, Lucifer?” Mendal asked.
“The point is, Mendal,” Lucifer said, “you can save both of them. And you can have both of them, as well as the godship of any planet you desire. If you decide for me in this revolution for freedom.”
Lucifer signaled with his right hand. “Remember, I have Lisa and I can take Fay. Save her from Caligastia, Mendal. He can do some very nasty things.” Lucifer vanished.
Caligastia handed Mendal his scroll. “Sign, Mendal.”
Mendal, drawing inner strength, refused to go along with their plans. “I’m not ready to make the decision.”
Hammone moved toward him in apparent anger, then stopped, his animosity quickly replaced with a look of fear. Perhaps he saw a ferocity in Mendal’s eyes that dissuaded him from getting too close and pressing his luck.
“That’s fine, Mendal,” Caligastia finally said, surprisingly calm and collected. “I’ll report you as officially ‘undecided.’ Your position will remain unchanged, as will your duties. You will continue to reside in Dalamatia.”
Mendal nodded.
“We will report this immediately to Lucifer and Satan,” Caligastia said with a smirk. He left the room with Hammone following right on his footsteps.
Finally alone, Mendal wrestled with his dilemma. I have to change what I saw, he thought. But how? How can I possibly change it?
Chapter 15
Heavily armed and in full military uniform, soldiers from system headquarters were stationed at all strategic points throughout Dalamatia. They set up checkpoints at the junctions of all major thoroughfares and travel was strictly limited. Streets were empty except for military personnel. Patrols seemed to be everywhere. Security was clamped down tight.
Inside administrative headquarters, Caligastia adjusted the microphone, then spoke: “Today, I am the absolute Sovereign of Earth. As we speak, this announcement is reaching the Most Highs.”
Mendal, of course, was expecting the announcement; still, he did nothing. The first response of his colleagues was to look at him. His calm facade hid the pain he felt inside.
Caligastia was not in a mood to wait. He got right down to business and continued without hesitation. “All administrative groups will now relinquish their functions and powers into the hands of Hammone as trustee, pending a complete reorganization of the planetary government.”
Suddenly, the silence vanished and everyone was talking at once. Shouts of disgust and outrage welled through the previously composed assemblage. “Treason!” someone called out. “This is an outrage!” others protested.
Hammone took his place next to Caligastia and shouted for all to hear. “I now formally proclaim Caligastia ‘god of Earth and supreme over all!’”
Van, a towering black man with a weathered face, receding hair and beard, challenged these usurpers fearlessly. His presence, as leader of the prestigious Court of Appeals, always commanded respect from his peers. “I protest this outrage against the government of Michael of Nebadon!” His thunderous voice reverberated off of the walls of the building.
Six guards immediately started toward Van, but Hammone motioned them back. They returned to their stations, poised and ready.
“As the director of the Court of Appeals,” declared Van, his fist slamming into an open hand, “I will personally petition Lucifer.”
The council leaders quickly exchanged opinions among themselves. They kept looking to Mendal for support, but he said nothing.
“We agree, Van,” said council leader Hap, wiping the sweat from his brow. “We will await Lucifer’s decision before we do anything else on this matter.”
Mendal delivered the council’s decision to Caligastia and Hammone on the other side of the room. The three talked clandestinely for a few anxious minutes. Before Mendal departed, Caligastia spoke for all to hear. “You’re right, Mendal. We’ll let Lucifer decide.”
✶ ✶ ✶ ✶
That evening, standing on a hastily built wooden podium in the courtyard of the temple of the unseen Father, Van addressed the entire staff and assistants. “I’m sorry to announce that the rumors you have heard are true.” Van wiped sweat from his brow. “I’ve just received Lucifer’s reply to my appeal. He commands us to give absolute allegiance to Caligastia and all of his mandates.” Van took a deep breath before continuing. “The Lucifer rebellion has begun.”
The crowd moaned amidst a few scattered cheers.
“We can’t let Caligastia take over Earth!” shouted Ang, his shoulder length, copper-colored hair flying about his fleshy face. “Lucifer doesn’t control the entire universe. He can’t just take Radania for his own.”
“But what are we going to do?” sighed Fad. “What can we do?”
Van continued his announcements. “I formally indict for treason Hammone, Caligastia and Lucifer. They stand in contempt of the government of the universe of Nebadon.” Mendal stepped forward and put a hand on Van’s shoulder in a show of solidarity.
“Some of us sincerely believe in Caligastia,” Nod said. “We will follow him and his mandates, no matter what you say, Van.” Several others gathered around him. Their mood was volatile, they were ready for anything now, including violent confrontation.
“We will fight to keep Earth,” said Lut. “You are the traitor, Van. You and the sheep that follow are betraying the man who built this great city.” Nearly half of the crowd showed signs of support for Lut and Nod. “Dalamatia is our capital. Leave, you traitors!”
The crowd rumbled. Lucifer’s military vanguard, wearing the dragon symbol and weapons in full view, shielded the rebels from Michael’s loyalists. A fight began to appear inevitable. Neither side seemed inclined to back down.
Van and Mendal departed the contentious crowd and crossed to the other side of the courtyard; several loyalists followed them.
“Do we have to choose?” Mia, a young female staff assistant, asked Van. She swiped her long, nut-brown hair from her nymphish face. “What if some of us don’t know what side to take?”
“The issues are drawn, Mia,” he answered. “This is now war in the heavens. Meetings and discussions will be held by both sides until the decision to either follow Lucifer in rebellion or stay loyal to Michael and His government has been made by all two hundred and three of us.”
Van put his hand on Mia’s shoulder to steady her slight, wiry body. “Be careful,” he warned. “This is no game,” Van continued, and the others drew near. “The losers risk total annihilation of their spiritual essence . . . their souls.”
Some of the staff associates chose to return to Nod and the rebels. To those who remained, Van whispered, “We must leave Dalamatia tonight.” He looked at Mendal for assent. Mendal nodded. “We’ll set up camp outside the walls,” continued Van, “a few miles to the northeast. Those who have not yet decided will stay in the city.”
Some of the staff and their assistants were mingling between the two groups. They were floundering with indecision, wanting to do what was right, but not sure which choice that would entail.
Mendal looked around for Fay. She wasn’t with the loyalists. He saw two from the dissident group walk across the courtyard toward a cafe. He followed them in and spotted Fay at last. She was talking with several staff associates, among them council head Bon and council head Lut.
“Fay, I’ve been looking for you,” said Mendal, his voice edged with tension. “We’re leaving Dalamatia with Van.” He grabbed her arm.
Fay jerked away, not wanting it to look to her friends as though she was under Mendal’s control. “I’m not sure I want to move out of Dalamatia, Mendal.”
Surprised, Mendal stepped back. “All my friends are following Caligastia,” she said defensively, chewing on her lower lip. “We feel strongly about Lucifer’s new policies.” She looked to her friends for support. They nodded. “The true leaders of Earth must come forth,” she continued, unable to look Mendal in the eyes, “to organize the inferior people to do the work that needs to be done.”
Mendal was shocked by what he was hearing. “I had no idea you felt this way, Fay,” said Mendal, remembering Lucifer’s threat about taking her.
Fay’s friends gathered around her. “The smarter, stronger, more powerful people have an obligation to decide for those who are physically or mentally unfit,” said Bon, a tall, statuesque man with jet-black hair and an aristocratic face. “Personal liberty gives me the right to control any who are weaker than I and in any way I choose.”
Most of those in the crowd nodded in agreement. A few others were listening carefully, trying to decide if they truly believed in this new way of thinking.
“Those who can prove they are stronger than I,” said Bon, “have the right to control me in any way they choose.” A companion slapped him on the back in show of support. “There is no moral God in the heavens who smiles at the righteous. Might is right.”
“The people want someone to make the important decisions for them. They want to be controlled by a powerful leader,” Fay said to Mendal, nestling up to him. “You are the most powerful, Mendal. No one can defeat you.”
“What are you saying, Fay? That free will is a privilege for a select few and not a right for all?” argued Mendal, pulling away from her. “What about your family and friends? What will happen to them?”
“All I’m saying is we need a chosen few to decide what is best for the rest of us,” said Fay, tears welling up in her eyes. “My family will learn to accept this new life. They will have no choice.”
A woman standing beside Fay hugged her, and then turned to Mendal. “We want our leaders to decide where each of us belongs in society. We trust them.”
All present waited to see Mendal’s reaction. His friend Lut asked, “What have you decided, Mendal? We respect your opinion. Many of us will follow your lead to either Lucifer or Michael.”
Mendal just shook his head. He looked at Fay, then at the others. He touched her gently. “Fay and I need to talk about this in private.” He turned to her. “Come home with me. Please.”
Chapter 16
The next morning Mendal rose early to try to make sense of everything that had transpired so quickly. He found Fay in the kitchen. She had spent the night in her old room. “I didn’t sleep at all,” he said. She finished rinsing a water glass in the sink and looked up at him. The dark shadows around her eyes implied she hadn’t slept either.
Mendal went to the computer and read the messages on the terminal. “As of this morning, all channels of interplanetary communication have been suspended,” Mendal said, slamming his fist on the desk. “The entire system of Radania is now quarantined, the system circuits have been severed and Earth has been alienated.”
He stood up, shook his head in frustration and looked at Fay. He could tell, or at least he hoped, she felt a need to explain herself. Maybe she just couldn’t resist Lucifer’s compelling energy, his force. He’d felt it, a force that was, in a way, comforting, yet pitiless and cold.
“Every group of life on the planet has found themselves suddenly and, without warning, isolated, totally cut off from all outside advice and counsel,” Mendal said, wincing, his face pale. “Without the system circuits, no one can leave the planet or even communicate with anyone outside Earth.”
“The system circuits are the communication and transportation frequencies that tie together the entire universe,” Fay said. “How long until they’re restored?”
Still busy reading the system news broadcasts, Mendal didn’t answer. Suddenly, the computer shut down: no more messages, no more news, no more communication. His head dropped and his shoulders slumped.
“Or will they ever be fully restored?” she whispered.
“Not as long as Lucifer lives,” Mendal replied. “The purpose of the quarantine is to keep the revolution from spreading to other systems. All spiritual personalities who are on Earth are now detained and must choose between the ways of Lucifer and the will of the Universal Father. Earth’s official position, though, will be decided by a majority decision of the two hundred and three of us governing Earth.”
“It seems to me, Mendal,” Fay said cautiously, “that the decision should be made by those in charge, such as Caligastia, Hammone . . . and you. The other two hundred don’t have the competence or intelligence to make a decision of this magnitude.”
“Each individual on Earth must decide for him or herself, Fay,” said Mendal, his voice rising. “Not until every person has made a final decision will the authorities in Edentia intervene.
Fay walked to Mendal and put her arms around him. “You’re influential, Mendal. Those who are undecided will follow your lead.” She looked deeply into his eyes, reinforcing her words without another sound.
Mendal shook his head. He didn’t want to be important anymore. He didn’t want to be responsible for what he saw on the quantum probability computer.
Mendal called Van on his personal communicator. Fay massaged Mendal’s shoulders as he talked. “How are the staff reacting, Van?”
“For now, most are loyal to Caligastia,” said Van, his voice shrouded in disappointment. “They cannot imagine a spiritual being as brilliant as him being wrong about something as important as this.” Mendal could hear talking in the background. “I’ll meet you later, Mendal. I’m setting up base camp. There are still many who are undecided.”
Outside their house, far and near, the sounds of their friends and community fighting grew louder. Mendal had to do something desperate. The city was breaking apart. He was losing Fay to the power of Lucifer, just as he had threatened. Maybe if he explained to her what he saw, then she would understand. Then she would come to her senses. He knew the time to reveal all to her had arrived. It was his only hope. “Fay, I saw something on a quantum probability computer.”
“What did you see?”
“I saw—”
“NO! Don’t tell her!” a voice screamed into Mendal’s consciousness. He jumped and took two steps backwards as if he had been physically shoved off his feet by a powerful, unseen hand.
“What’s wrong with you, Mendal?” she asked.
He looked deeply into her eyes, then he realized that she hadn’t heard the voice.
“What did you see, Mendal?” she asked, irritated and a bit frightened at the same time.
“Nothing,” Mendal responded, not knowing how else to reply. He left without any more being said between the two of them.
Chapter 17
Mendal met Zee behind his house. He wanted a chance to talk to him away from the nightmare in the city.
Walking with Zee through a grassy meadow toward the foothills on that hot summer day. They slowed their pace. “Zee, I hope you can advise me.” Unaccustomed to asking for help, Mendal hesitated. As a leader, he was expected to know all the answers.
Zee nodded.
“First, where did you come from?” asked Mendal. His eyes shone with an almost desperate desire to know the truth. “What about before you appeared with us on Earth? What were you then?”
“Before I came to Earth, I was pure energy,” Zee explained. “I existed, but not in the personality form I now possess.”
Mendal stopped for a rest under the shade of a tree. He leaned against a giant oak and turned to Zee. “Where did you exist, Zee?” Mendal asked.
“In frequency energy circuits,” Zee replied. After a few moments of reflection, he continued. “It was like being inside one of your system broadcasters or radios. I could tune the bands to unlimited frequencies, each frequency being a pathway to a different location in the universe.”
“Yes, I’m familiar with the concept of frequency energy circuits,”
Mendal said, nodding. “I’ve never traveled them, but I’ve studied them.”
“Even now, in personality form, I’m able to travel freely to any location, anywhere in the universe, by tuning in and out of frequencies.” Zee shook his head in obvious frustration. “That is, I was before the system circuits were turned off.”
Mendal thought for a moment before going on. “Do you have access to the frequencies now?” he asked.
“I can still leave this life-functioning level through the frequencies and enter others,” Zee acknowledged, “but only on a limited basis. Because of the quarantine, I am always pulled back to Earth.”
Mendal nodded. They walked at least a mile in silence, and then Mendal picked up the discussion again. “Can humans enter the frequency energy circuits?” he asked. “I know it is possible from an angelic realm, but is it also possible from a physical realm?”
“It is possible for humans to enter the circuits from Earth. However,” he said, “it takes a scrambling of your psychic channels to do this.”
Zee stopped walking and stood perfectly still. Almost instantaneously he entered a meditative state to research the subject. After a few moments, he opened his eyes. “A certain chemical allows the human psyche to free fall into various alternate frequencies. But it is very difficult to control or predict, with any amount of certainty, where the frequencies would take an untrained traveler.”
Zee and Mendal continued the trek. “Believe me, Mendal, those not accustomed to my environment would find traveling there difficult, if not impossible. The frequencies are used by every species in the universe and are pathways to other time-realities and dimensions as well.”
Mendal was taking it all in, making copious mental notes as they walked along.
“One thing to always remember, Mendal, is that not all time realities are friendly ones,” warned Zee. “Because of free will, there exist some places inhabited by truly evil beings. I do not recommend anyone travel the frequency highway without a proper road map.”
Zee walked with Mendal across a meadow to a wooded area. Once they reached the end of the field, Mendal ran his hands through his hair in frustration and turned to Zee. “Zee, I’m in a dilemma that has no solution. None I can think of, anyway.”
“How can I help?” asked Zee.
“The problem is I can’t tell anyone. It has to do with probabilities.”
Zee nodded. “If people know, the probabilities change.”
“Yes.” Mendal knew Zee would understand. “I saw something I wasn’t supposed to see,” he blurted out in desperation. “You’re very important to me, Zee. I guess I want you to know that I have a reason for delaying my decision.”
“I trust you, Mendal,” Zee responded. “Don’t risk saying any more about it. Let me see what I can find out.” He closed his eyes and concentrated. Several minutes passed.
Suddenly, his head jerked upward and he gasped. “Your future is in danger. Extreme danger . . .”
“Danger from what, Zee?” Mendal asked. He had never seen such a look of consternation come over Zee, and he felt a cold shudder at the very pit of his soul.
“I was blocked out,” Zee said, his eyes opening. “He stopped me from seeing. I will keep a watch out for you, Mendal,” Zee said. “Do not let anyone know what you saw.” Zee vanished.
Chapter 18
The bedroom door opened and Fay walked out fully dressed and carrying a suitcase. “I’m leaving, Mendal. I made my feelings known last night and so did you.”
“Where will you stay?” asked Mendal, reigning in his emotions. He was determined to prove to Fay, and to himself, that her leaving would not bother him. After all, he was in charge of operations in Dalamatia. He had enough to worry about without her causing problems.
“I’m going to . . . I’m sure you’ll find out soon enough,” she said. Then she blurted out, “You won’t listen to my friends or even make an effort to see my point of view—”
“I know your views, Fay,” Mendal said emotionlessly. The time for argumentation had passed.
“Why do you insist on living in Dalamatia if you won’t commit to Lucifer?” she sobbed, her face scarlet and swollen from crying. “Why don’t you just go and live with Van and the others at Michael’s camp?”
“Because I haven’t decided yet,” Mendal said. “There is a reason, Fay. I just can’t tell you what it is.”
“I’m leaving, Mendal,” said Fay, dissolving into tears. She walked out the door, took a few steps, and then slowly turned. “I love you, Mendal, but you’re not devoted to Lucifer, and I am.” Fay rushed down the steps, past the courier and toward her four friends waiting at the street’s edge.
Mendal followed her down the steps. Damn you, Lucifer, he thought, outraged. You took another away from me. He felt a cold fist close over his heart.
Chapter 19
Mendal sat alone in a middle row of the Planetary Amphitheater. Dim, flickering gaslights cast an eerie shadow over his downcast head. Spirits, unnoticed, watched him from the murky corners and crevices of the dilapidated brick building.
The door to the theater swung open. Van, worn and tired, made his way toward Mendal. Van’s once energetic demeanor was now replaced with fatigue, an utter exhaustion from fighting the evil he saw taking over his city, his planet, his galaxy.
A moment later, Fay also entered, her great beauty masked by the pain she felt inside. She, too, was exhausted from fighting. Michael was an evil to her as real as Lucifer was to Van.
Van kept his distance from Fay. The contempt and hatred felt between these two adversaries established an air of confrontation.
Van climbed the stands and sat next to Mendal. “The count is one hundred one loyal to Michael, one hundred one loyal to Lucifer. The only hope we have, Mendal, is if you end this rebellion by making your decision to support Michael and do it now.” Van put his arm around Mendal’s shoulders. “I have a strong feeling that if you don’t decide quickly, something drastic will happen to move this process along. And it will happen to you, Mendal, to force you decide.”
Even this warning did nothing to move Mendal toward announcing a decision. He methodically nodded his head to indicate he understood. He stood and slowly descended the stands. He seemed unsteady, even wavering.
Fay made her presence known and approached Mendal. “There is no Father in Paradise, Mendal. Michael of Nebadon has fabricated His existence for the benefit of the weak,” Fay alleged with an air of self-righteousness. “The truth is, personal liberty gives Lucifer the right to control anyone he chooses and in any way he chooses, because he is able to. Only the strong prevail, and I am one of the strong, Mendal. It’s survival of the fittest here on Earth, as it is throughout the universe.”
Van stood beside Mendal, but he could only watch as Fay attempted to weave her spell over his weakened soul.
“The ones who are born with advantages in intelligence and racial purity have the obligation to cleanse the Earth and the universe of the undesirable misfits of nature,” Fay said, smiling as she caressed Mendal’s face with both of her soft hands.
Mendal said nothing and showed no indication of making a decision, even after a long year’s wait. His former power as a leader of his people had drained away and taken with it any remaining desire he had to continue this meaningless life.
When Fay failed to get any response, she looked at Mendal in utter bewilderment. “How can you resist this offer of complete power and control over millions of people? You need to put your trust in Lucifer’s hands—”
“Mendal, how can you doubt the existence of God, our Father in Paradise?” Van interrupted. “I can feel Him watching over us. Make the right decision—”
The theater door creaked open. All three turned to see Caligastia enter the arena and walk toward them. Fay, in flagrant awe of his presence, was suddenly at his side, her arm skillfully positioned around his waist.
Caligastia gently brushed Fay aside. He walked over to Mendal and put his arm around his shoulders in a comforting, brotherly manner. “Lucifer has assured me,” said Caligastia, “that if you just forget this myth of an unseen Father in some fictitious Paradise, he will make you a planetary god of your own sphere. Think of it, Mendal, any planet of your choosing.”
Caligastia let this temptation of power and prestige sink in before he continued his mental assault. “Be careful, Mendal, for Lucifer knows the importance of your decision and he will not hesitate to destroy you if—”
“Don’t threaten me, Caligastia. I just haven’t made up my mind yet. I need more time to weigh both sides before I commit,” Mendal said as he stepped away from Caligastia, his face pale and his hands balled into tight fists. “I won’t be forced to choose until I am ready. I need more time!”
Suddenly, a roar of thunder boomed, the ground shook and the walls shuddered. Then an eerie silence draped over the theater. It was as if, for a few moments in time, this arena was taken to some different, unseen location.
“There is no more time, Mendal. Choose now! Choose the glorious life of a planetary god!”
“No, I haven’t decided yet! I won’t make the decision until I’m ready!”
“Do it, Mendal! NOW!”
“No. I need more time. Please give me more time! Give me more time!”
A dazzling bolt of white light suddenly flashed through the room, temporarily blinding its occupants. Slowly the light dissipated and sight returned to those still present.
Fay looked around in disbelief. “He’s gone!” she said, astounded.
“Mendal’s gone!”
Chapter 20
The principal, reading a file on his desk, looked up when Mendal entered the room. It was the same room he had visited twice before. Nothing, including the principal’s appearance and clothing, had changed. It was as if Mendal had just left the room a moment ago.
“Be seated,” the principal demanded, obviously irritated, “and I’ll explain the reason you were summoned here.”
Mendal glanced around. For a fleeting moment he thought of escaping, but that delusion was quickly expelled. He sat, head drooped, shoulders slumped, hands in face.
The principal scanned through some papers on his desk, then cleared his throat. “You have been summoned here by the Most Highs.” A golden light shone down through the open ceiling of the room, encasing the chamber in a sheath of divine judgment.
“The Lucifer rebellion is now out of control and has the potential to spread throughout other systems,” the principal said, his voice powerful, his eyes sharp and clear. “We did not anticipate this happening.”
The golden light grew stronger, taking on a deeper hue and emanating a vitality of its own.
“If the previous personality form you assumed on Earth had been able to make the decision he was destined to make,” the principal continued, “this rebellion would now be over.”
Mendal’s voice cracked with fear as he began to realize just how dangerously unstable this situation had become. “Why don’t the Ancients of Days just annihilate the rebels?” he said, trying to depict himself as an innocent victim in a desperate attempt at sidestepping his fate. “Is it because they really don’t have the power to stop Lucifer?”
“All I can say is there are forty-eight reasons for permitting evil to run its full course,” the principal answered emotionlessly, turning away from Mendal in an obvious gesture of disrespect. “We don’t have the time to discuss each reason in depth.”
Mendal, realizing no satisfactory explanation was forthcoming, reluctantly sat down and glanced up to the heavens. “Is it my destiny to become a planetary god, as Lucifer claims?” he said, somehow still expecting a miraculous answer to his dilemma. “Or am I heading toward the extinction of spiritual existence?”
No answer, no enlightenment, no help. Nothing. Mendal took a deep breath. He had to tell someone what he saw on the quantum probability computer and now was the perfect time. The principal would certainly understand. “There’s a reason I haven’t announced a decision! I saw—”
The principal spun around in his chair. “Do you have something to confess, Mendal?” he coldly interrupted. After a few moments of uncomfortable silence, the principal tilted his head upward toward the heavens above, then continued. “It has been decreed that you be put in a neutral environment and be given as much time as you need to make your decision.”
Mendal contemplated the words the principal had just said. Suddenly, his eyes opened wide. He frantically jumped to his feet as he began to realize what the principal was alluding to. “What do you mean by ‘put in a neutral environment?’ You can’t possibly mean—”
The golden light from above suddenly encased the body of Mendal.
✶ ✶ ✶ ✶
The bright lights of a hospital delivery room glared over a nurse holding a newborn infant in her arms. The doctor smiled as he glanced down at the young mother. “Congratulations, Mrs. Brueggemann,” the doctor proudly announced. “It’s a boy!”
Chapter 21
A signal alerted Lucifer to the arrival of an expected visitor. His tall, slight frame, dressed in slacks and a sweater, slowly straightened and rose from his black glass desk. The keyboard continued typing; pictures blurred across the monitor. Fifty video screens surrounded the spacious room that was draped in black velvet with gold trappings. Each screen displayed a different sector of the Radania galaxy.
Lucifer walked to the elevator door on the south wall and mentally unlocked the security restraint. “Sir, a message from Caligastia,” an elderly servant said in a raspy voice. He stepped out of the elevator and waited for a response.
Lucifer, his eyes suddenly glowing a crimson red, turned his head downward and focused on the ground below. “I can see three probabilities attached with this message,” Lucifer said, his voice growing more powerful with each spoken word. “Probability number one: Mendal made his decision and that decision has gained him godship of a planet of his choice. As I have not granted him such, that probability did not occur.
“Probability number two: Mendal made his decision and that decision has cost me the rebellion. Because I am still here and not on some prison world awaiting trial, that also did not occur. That leaves probability number three.”
At this realization, Lucifer’s body began a metamorphosis. The Rage inside him awakened and, suddenly robust and potent, glowed a vibrant red and radiated energy in the form of blistering heat. Lucifer’s clothing disintegrated and his flesh seared. His tall, slight frame expanded, fed by the savagery, decadence and wrath of Rage, until his bulk was ten times its previous size.
“They interfered!” Lucifer’s Rage roared. “They took Mendal away! That was not the agreement we had!” Lucifer could not control his inner self. Despite the servant’s guttural screams for mercy, he crushed the hapless soul with one fist and continued to Rage uncontrollably.
It was nearly an hour before Lucifer’s Rage subsided. When it did, Lucifer stepped out of his Rage body and sat at his desk. The Rage of Lucifer and the calm, calculating Lucifer were two separate beings. Lucifer took a file out of a briefcase and entered data into his quantum computer, while Rage stood in the middle of the room, guarding . . . watching.
Lucifer, studying information flashing on the monitor, summoned his servant. The servant, the same elderly gentleman he had crushed earlier, brought Lucifer a hand-held communicator. He pushed a red button on the device and handed it to Lucifer. “Satan, be here in one hour,” Lucifer said in a composed, tranquil voice.
Rage unleashed a primal growl, his massive arms reaching skyward. The raw power emanating from him seemed to shake the very earth beneath his feet. He looked at Lucifer and they evaluated the situation. “We’ve got to move on this now!” they said in unison.
An hour later, Satan greeted the calm Lucifer with a nod. He dared not come close to or even look directly at Lucifer’s Rage. Satan knew that Rage was unpredictable and, to some extent, uncontrollable, even by Lucifer himself.
“You remember my other half,” Lucifer said to Satan, extending his arm toward Rage.
Rage turned and glared at Satan. Satan shielded his face with his left hand and nodded cautiously. I don’t need the stress of him here, watching everything I do,” Satan thought.
“I’m keeping him around until Mendal visits,” said Lucifer, watching the interaction between Satan and Rage with apparent amusement.
Satan sighed. Should I leave now, while I still can? he thought.
“You’re right, Satan, I am watching what you do!” yelled Rage. “I know everything, even what you’re thinking. But don’t be stressed or leave, Satan. I won’t kill you. At least I’ll try to control myself!” Rage laughed and the room shook.
Lucifer continued. “Mendal’s been sent to a probable life in Earth’s twentieth century. I can’t directly influence him there because I have no power in that time period. But he must still make his decision.”
Lucifer, his smirk cold and calculating, fired a quick look at Satan’s way. “Or be destroyed before he can.”
Satan thought for a moment, and then smiled with malicious delight. “I see what you mean, Lucifer. I’ll take care of sending Fay’s spiritual essence after him. She’ll be there, waiting. He can’t resist her.”
“You be there, too, Satan. Get Mendal to announce his decision. If you can’t do it, if he’s still wavering or leaning toward Michael, make sure he comes to me,” Lucifer said confidently. “Rage will take care of him.”
Chapter 22
“Mendal, you are here to make your decision. You will be given every opportunity to choose between the ways of God or the ways of Lucifer. You must decide for yourself whether God exists or God does not exist.”
“Mommmmm!” screamed John, jarring himself from a deep sleep. “Mom, there are voices in my head! They’re calling me Mendal! They want me to be good, not bad! Mom, am I bad? Mommmmm!”
John’s mom rushed into the room and sat by his side on the bed. “Of course you’re not bad, sweetheart,” she said, smiling and stroking his head. “You’re my little angel. You just had a nightmare, that’s all. And do you remember what day this is?”
“It’s my birthday! I remember, Mom!”
“Yes, and how old are you today?”
“I’m six years old! I’m a big boy now, huh Mom!”
“Yes, you are. And we’re going swimming at your favorite pool with all your friends today.”
“Is Dad coming with us?”
She had heard him come in around three. He clomped up the stairs and lay down without taking off his clothes. The familiar smell of cigarettes and beer clung to him. She pretended to be asleep.
“Is he coming?”
“I’m afraid not, dear,” she said with a deep sigh. “He’s not feeling well.”
“Oh,” John said. He thought for a moment and sat up. “Mom, you know that talk we had about God?”
“Yes, dear.”
“Mom, I think God came inside me last night and talked to me.”
John’s mom nodded her head. “He’s inside all of us, sweetheart,” she said with an understanding smile. “God’s always with you.”
“But what about what Dad said? He said God isn’t real. He says there is no God. He says—”
“Now don’t you listen to your father when he’s been drinking. You know he’s a good man and loves you dearly. He just doesn’t know God the way we do.”
“Well, Dad told me I need to grow up and be just like him. He said to – “
“John, stop that chatter. Did you forget what today is already?”
“It’s my birthday!” John yelled, jumping out of bed.
Chapter 23
John rushed down the empty high school hallway toward senior math class. The lights seemed awfully bright to him today. Probably all that beer he drank last night. Drinking on a school night. What a shithead!
Just as John opened the classroom door, the tardy bell rang. He meekly took one of the only two remaining seats in the front row, which, of course, everyone did their best to avoid. He looked around, no teacher.
“The front row is for the nerds and the late arrivers,” John turned and whispered to a friend behind him.
“Yeah, which are you?” Steve laughed, a little too loudly. Boisterous chatter came from all directions. The early morning breeze from the open windows had fully awakened the students and they eagerly discussed their weekend plans.
“Going to the kegger Saturday night?” Steve asked John. “I know you don’t like crowds or the jock scene, but you got to celebrate the Big Eighteen! We partied down on mine last month. Remember?”
“How could I forget?” said John, grimacing. “I got shit-faced and really embarrassed myself. Or so I heard.”
“Well, for the first time in your life you can get legally drunk,” said Steve.
“Yeah, I can’t miss that,” said John. “Maybe I will go. Right now, I just wish this damn hangover would let up.”
“Look at you, not even a legal adult and you’re already an alcoholic,” Steve said with a smirk. “You should hear my brother bitch about the drinking age changing to eighteen this year. He had to wait three more years to go to a bar than I did. That really pisses him off.”
“Well, it’s about time,” John said sourly. “Teenagers were old enough to get drafted and die in ’Nam but they couldn’t drink a fuckin’ beer? Man, the law had to change.”
The room suddenly quieted. The teacher walked in with a student close behind her. Everyone studied the new kid intently.
“This is Dean,” announced Ms. Healey. “He’s joining us for the last two weeks of the school year.” She attempted to put her arm around Dean to guide him forward.
He jerked back at her touch and fired a warning. “Don’t touch me, you . . .” He wisely didn’t finish the sentence, noticed John. Dean was tall for his age, white, with a huge ’70s Afro, a loud tie-dyed shirt, dark glasses, and the widest bellbottoms John had ever seen.
Suddenly, everybody in the room was chattering at once. “Wow, that’s the new kid from Chicago,” Steve whispered, grabbing John’s shoulder. “He’s the coolest dude anyone in this hick school has ever seen.”
“Yeah, man, look at those bellbottoms and Afro! This guy’s real funky. See the way he didn’t take any shit from Healey there,” John proclaimed. “Man, that’s what I call cool!”
“And that cane he’s got? I heard he’s legally blind,” said Steve. “Mike says some weird shit about him.”
“Weird? In what way weird?” John asked.
Before Steve could answer, Ms. Healey slammed her pointer against the chalkboard. The whispering stopped. “John, why don’t you help Dean to his desk. We’ve got a lot to cover today so you all can pass this class and graduate high school.”
Before John could get up, Steve stretched to whisper in his ear. “I heard he don’t see with his eyes, but he’s got this vision that can like, see into your soul.”
“What?” John muttered, getting up from his desk. John, trying to look his coolest for the classroom students, walked toward Dean with his right arm outstretched. “Your desk’s right over here next to mine, man.”
“I know where it is, you homo,” Dean sneered, shoving John aside and using his cane to locate the desk.
John hastily retreated to his own seat.
“Yeah, sit down, you homo!” said Jimmy from the back of the room. Everyone laughed.
Dean, lounging back in his chair, turned to give John a sarcastic remark, but stopped in mid-sentence and just stared at him. The look continued well after the teacher began her lesson and didn’t stop until she broke his concentration. “Do we have a problem here, Dean?”
“I think he likes John!” Jimmy shouted.
Laughter again rolled through the class. John’s face reddened.
“No, it’s okay. I’m sorry for the interruption,” Dean said. “I sometimes drift into different . . . I’m fine now. Go on.”
For John, the next forty-five minutes seemed like an eternity. But eventually the bell rang and everyone scattered out the door. John was walking down the hallway toward his next class when he heard a tapping sound directly behind him. He turned and found himself face to face with Dean.
“Meet me in the parking lot at four sharp, man. I drive the black Camaro. Can’t miss it. It’s where all the chicks hang out.” Dean laughed, then disappeared into the crowd of students scurrying to their classes.
Seven hours later, John and Steve walked into the school parking lot, their daily afternoon ritual of hamburger and Pepsi complete. John looked at his watch. “Hot day! Supposed to be in the mid 90s,” Steve remarked, a true master of the obvious. “Man, I’m ready for summer this year. Just two more weeks and no more high school.”
“Yeah,” said John, in no mood for small talk.
John spotted a group of people by a black Camaro at the far corner of the parking lot. He started toward them when Steve grabbed his arm. “You’re not really going over there, are you? Most of them aren’t even in high school,” Steve warned. “They look like they’re in their twenties, man. Don’t get involved, John. There’s trouble brewin’.”
That made no difference to John. Making a short stop at his own vehicle, he slapped a Black Sabbath cassette into his high-powered tape player and cranked up the volume. He took a deep breath and casually strolled toward the Camaro.
Momentarily unaware of John’s presence, Dean took a long toke from a joint. He passed it to a young blond girl standing beside him, her hand gently rubbing his ass.
“John, is that you, man?” Dean asked, exhaling loudly.
“Yeah, how’d you know it was me?” John replied.
“You got that ‘rich kid’ smell. And Black Sabbath? Come on now. You got any James Brown?”
“Uhhh . . . not with me,” John stammered.
“Ha, not with him. Must have left that tape at home,” sneered one of the other men. Everyone joined in for a good laugh, even John.
Dean put his arm around John’s shoulder and started to walk him away from the partying group, saying, “I’ve gotta talk to my man here.” The young blond instinctively followed. Dean turned and asserted his control. “In private, babe.” She walked back to the Camaro.
Dean’s cane guided his path to an old pickup truck. He dropped the tailgate, sat down, and motioned John to sit beside him. Instead, John leaned against the chain-link fence that surrounded the parking lot. “So what’s going on, man?” John asked, trying to hide his nervousness.
“Meet me at my place tonight at nine.” Dean handed John a book of matches. “Here’s the address.”
John took the matches and put them in his pocket.
“I’ve got some people for you to meet,” said Dean, walking toward the blond girl. “If you impress them, I can set you up as a major pot dealer for your rich friends here on the West Side. We’re talkin’ big bucks, John.”
“I’ll be there, Dean,” John said. “I won’t let you down, man.”
Chapter 24
John’s 1950 Ford coupe bounced over four sets of railroad tracks that divided the town between the haves and have nots. He turned up Grand Funk Railroad and rolled down the window to get a better look at the unfamiliar street signs. It was already nine and he had a long way to go. One too many pool games and pitchers of beer. He should have left earlier. Shit.
The unlit streets made the journey agonizingly slow. Finally, John pulled into an apartment complex at the end of the block, drawing the attention of two Mexicans. He spotted a parking space close to the well-lit building and pulled in.
He entered the building and briskly walked to the elevator. Out of order. Shit! He ran up the stairs, two at a time, to room 412. He stopped in front of the door to catch his breath and get up the nerve to knock. Hell, they couldn’t rob him. He only had a few bucks.
He knocked meekly, hoping nobody was home. Another beer and pool game sounded real good right now. No one answered. Did they know he was here? Should he knock again?
Suddenly, the door swung open. “John, glad you could make it,” said Dean, wearing large, black-framed sunglasses, faded bell bottom jeans and a colorful, oversized Mexican poncho. “Did you have any problem finding us poor folk way down here on the South Side?”
“No, man, I’ve been down here lots of times,” John said too quickly.
“Yeah, yeah, just screwin’ with ya,” snickered Dean. Behind his cane, Dean led John into the main room of the small, two room apartment. Six men, three black and three white, sat in various chairs and couches in the crowded living room.
A beautiful young woman stood by the bedroom door. Three of the men were large, athletic types. One of the black men, six feet, six inches tall and over three hundred pounds, took up most of the couch.
“Maybe you’ve heard of Big Willy, John,” said Dean. “All-conference lineman from RMC.”
John slowly nodded as he cautiously approached the couch, his hand extended in friendship. Big Willy attempted to get up, but aborted the endeavor at mid-stance, slapping John’s hand as he dropped back down.
“Yeah, but don’t worry,” Big Willy slurred, “the school’s got me so loaded down on drugs I couldn’t hurt a honky if I wanted to.” Everyone laughed.
“What’s so important, Dean? I need to get my beauty sleep. I mean, sleep with my beauties,” joked a guy in a red shirt.
Everyone turned to Dean. He pulled out a wooden chair from the bedroom for John to sit on and sat on the floor himself, five feet from John. “Okay, John, I’ve got a question to ask you. If you answer correctly, you’ll be seeing a lot of us . . . and a lot of her.” Dean smiled and pointed to the beautiful woman leaning against the bedroom door casing. She winked seductively. “We’ll set you up with all the pot connections you need. And I’m talkin’ Colombian, man!”
John looked around the room. All eyes were on him. What could they possibly want? Why did anything he have to say mean this much?
“We have got to stop science and scientific progress. Complicated issues and facts, ignore them. Facts separate people, the enemy has facts and science.” Dean paused so the meaning of his words would sink in.
“John, you were meant to be a leader of our revolution,” said Dean. “You were born for this.” Dean stood and placed a hand on John’s shoulder. “John, close your eyes and look into the future with me.”
John closed his eyes.
“Relax.”
He tried.
“I’m goin’ to ask you a question, John. Answer it as truthfully as you can,” Dean whispered, “or the answer means nothin’. The answer you give must be the one you believe.”
John nodded.
“What does the future hold? Is it a revolution against our repressive government? Will we be allowed to unite and form our own nation in true freedom?” Dean paused to let John think for a moment. “Or will everything just remain the same and gradually evolve for the better?”
John thought about what Dean just said. He wanted what he was offering, wanted it real bad. But how could he see the future? How could he know what was coming up in America? Yet, in the back of his mind he was intrigued with the idea of being a leader. It was exciting and it offered adventure. But the question kept nagging him: why me?
John took a deep breath and tried to relax. He knew he had to make this choice, this decision. A part of him wanted the status and reputation having a friend like Dean would bring him at school. But another part of him felt a kind of dread, like a deep seeded anxiety, or even a warning.
“C’mon, man, it’s decision time,” Dean said, his impatience lurking just below the surface of his ultra-cool facade.
John could feel all their eyes upon him. Finally, he said, “Dean, I think a guy like you should lead it, not me. Besides, I couldn’t make a big decision like this without thinking about it a little more.”
Dean’s nostrils flared. “No more time,” he snapped. “Indecision is what the man wants! Listen, you are either with us or you’re against us. Putting off the decision is for wimps and cowards. Are you a coward, John?”
Something about Dean just wasn’t right. He was scary in a ruthless, manipulative way . . . almost evil. But at the same time, John felt comfortable around this guy.
“Make the decision, John,” Dean said sharply. “Is it revolution? Or evolution?”
John started to say Revolution, but something stopped him. This was important, too important to decide without thinking it through. He reached deep inside himself. What is the answer? John asked silently. Is a revolution imminent? What does the future hold? Revolution or evolution? He waited for illumination, which always came when he sought it.
Suddenly John’s eyes opened and he spoke. “Dean, I see no revolution in the near future.”
“What?” shouted Dean, his eyes taking on a crazed look.
“I just don’t see a revolution in the future, Dean,” John said, his face growing pensive. He somehow knew that when he finally made his decision, it would have to be made on his own terms. It was not going to be something that he would allow himself to be coerced into. Not by Dean. Not by anybody.
“You know what you’re sayin’?” Dean shook his head in disbelief. “You know what you’re givin’ up? I thought you were cool. Turns out you’re just another stooge ready to believe in whatever full of crap fairy tales the system tells you.”
“I’m sorry, man.” John didn’t know what else to say. But he knew Dean wasn’t going to let go that easily.
Dean looked at him with disgust, his blind eyes piercing John more than any man with sight ever could. “So life for the workers, the poor, the common man, will just gradually get better, if at all?” Dean said bitterly, his voice dripped with contempt. “We gotta live like this ’til the rich man decides to give us more. We got no hope—”
“No, Dean, I didn’t say that.” John put his hand on Dean’s shoulder. “I just can’t tell you there’s a great people’s revolution in the future when I don’t see it.”
“Think about it some more, John,” pleaded Dean, shrugging off his hand. “It’s not too late to change your mind. Think of what it’ll mean to us. And to you.” He motioned to the woman. She instantly appeared at John’s side, caressing his shoulders and chest.
“Decide for the revolution,” she whispered, gently inserting her tongue in his ear.
John could feel the warmth of her body and she had her intended effect on his libido. He tried to avert his eyes, but they were drawn toward her swelling chest and her hand on the zipper of his jeans made it perfectly clear how willing she was.
He turned his head abruptly and focused his attention back onto Dean as he swallowed hard. “I can’t make the decision,” John insisted. The woman laughed and strolled away.
Dean’s friends shook their heads in disgust and rose, eyeing John with growing resentment. John grasped the danger. It was time to leave. He headed for the front door. Just as he reached it, a hand grabbed him and spun him around.
Satan took off his sunglasses and threw his cane against the wall. His eyes were burning red. He glared at John with hatred and whispered, “Go to hell, Mendal. Lucifer’s waitin’ for ya.”
Chapter 25
John sat with his parents at the dining table for a late evening dinner. He picked at what was on his plate, not wanting to fill his stomach with mere food when a keg of beer was waiting. The setting sun peeking through the window shades reminded him of the time.
John grabbed his leather jacket from the hall closet, checking the pocket for a newly bought bag of pot. Slam! Out the door and to the kegger he went.
✶ ✶ ✶ ✶
Bordered by large pine trees, a hundred young people milled around the huge bonfire in a field filled with cars and trucks. The full moon peeked from behind a slow-moving cloud. It was official, the night had begun.
John walked around, drank beer and chatted with school friends. He quickly got drunk and a little loud, as did everyone else. He usually didn’t like crowds, but he was loosening up and enjoying himself. This night was gonna rock.
He spotted a good-looking girl with long brown hair whom he recognized from his English class. He was pretty sure that her name was Leslie. She was dressed in ragged jeans, wearing a revealing hippy blouse, necklaces and beads. John approached her. Taking a deep breath and putting on his coolest facade, he said, “Hi, Leslie. I didn’t know you went to these things.”
“Oh, hi, John. Yeah, well, I didn’t know you did, either.” She looked a little surprised that he talked to her, John being the shy type and all. She rubbed one of the tassels of his fringed, brown leather jacket. “I like your jacket, John. It’s real hip,” she said with a welcome smile.
“I like your blouse, too. It really shows you off.” He smiled, then thought about what he had said. “Uh…I mean, it looks good on you.” He could feel himself blushing, and hoped she somehow hadn’t noticed.
She just laughed. “I know what you mean. Thanks.”
“Yeah.” John relaxed a little, then he quickly decided on his next move. “Hey, do you want to go get a beer with me?”
She nodded. “Far out.”
“Then maybe we can go and smoke a joint, if you want. I’ve got some really good bud.”
Leslie’s eyes lit up in anticipation of getting high. “Sure. I never turn down a doobie.”
They both got a beer from the keg and strolled to the wooded area away from the crowd. John leaned against a tree and rolled a joint. He took the first deep toke and passed it to Leslie. She took an enthusiastic drag and smiled as she passed it back to him.
“Man, this is one of the better keggers of the year,” said Leslie, “not too wild.” She hesitated. “I’m glad I bumped into you, John.” She ran her fingers through his long hair.
“Yeah, me too,” said John. He held her by the shoulders and gently kissed her. They sat down on the grass and leaned back against the tree. Leslie began kissing him again, but now John barely responded and showed little enthusiasm for her advances.
Her face became sad, her voice perplexed. “Is it something I did?” she asked.
He didn’t reply.
“John?” she continued. “Are you that spaced out from just one joint and a few beers?”
John shook his head and smiled. The look in his eyes was now distant and rather vacant. “I know this sounds kinda weird,” John said, “but I’m going hiking in the mountains by myself tomorrow. I’ve made a decision to believe in God and I need to make it official . . . or something like that. I don’t know why, but it’s like spirits have been waiting for me to decide.”
Leslie seemed intrigued. “That’s awesome!” she exclaimed. “Really cool. Can I come with you?”
John suddenly realized what he’d said and it made him feel awkward. “Wow, I must be really stoned to be telling you all this stuff tonight.”
Leslie smiled. “It’s okay. For some reason, I feel like we knew each other a long time ago, at some other place.” She began caressing his face. “Do you know what I mean, John?”
“Yeah, I thought it was just me being stoned,” he said, looking deeply into the midnight blue of her eyes, “but I just know we’ve been together before.” John reached for that elusive memory buried deep in his soul. It seemed well within his grasp, yet a million miles away.
“Not just together, John, but really together.” Leslie looked at him with intense feeling. “It’s as if we created something. Something special. Out of love.”
“Yeah, Les,” John whispered, “It’s like the feeling or memory is there, but . . . I just can’t recall it.”
Leslie took John in her arms and kissed him deeply. John gently eased her down into the tall grass. After what seemed like hours but was in actuality only a few minutes, they realized that their intense passion was drawing attention to themselves and they reluctantly broke apart.
“You know Dean, that cool hippie guy at school?” Leslie asked.
“Yeah,” John said. Had Dean told her about last night?
“He gave me some acid today,” Leslie said, “but I’m too scared to try it. He said it was pure LSD. I heard it can be sort of religious sometimes.”
“Oh,” John said, relieved.
“I brought it with me, just in case I got up the nerve to try it,” she said. “Why don’t you take it? You might talk to spirits or your God or something.”
John looked at her curiously. What could it hurt? Drugs never caused him any problems. She took the acid out of her pocket and gave it to him. He popped it in his mouth. “I’ll say ‘hi’ to God for you, Leslie.”
Chapter 26
Lying in the dry grass behind the tree, John began to glimpse bands of electricity crackling in the air. They grew stronger and stronger until his line of vision consisted entirely of these electrical bands in a background of utter darkness. The physical reality he previously was in, the reality of time and substance, was gone.
John looked at what he perceived to be a three-dimensional movie screen. But no movie was playing. One single crackling band rolled up on the screen, stopped, then rolled off. Another almost immediately took its place. As these electrical frequencies rolled by, he heard voices talking when the bands stopped, sometimes numerous conversations at once, similar to tuning through radio stations.
In a flash of energy ripping through layers of imprinting that obscured his psyche, all the memories of his previous life as Mendal were crystal clear. He was Mendal and he now knew that he always would be Mendal.
Mendal turned his attention to the electrical frequency bands that rolled in front of him. When a band stopped, he tuned into and visualized himself inside that frequency. Being careful not to actually enter a vibration, he scanned through the layers of vibrations within the frequency.
To his amazement, each vibration seemed to be a world in that particular frequency’s sector of the universe. However, he didn’t know what sector of the universe he was looking at or which world was assigned to a particular vibration. He didn’t have the roadmap to the system network. This was what Zee had described. Mendal was in the frequency energy circuits!
Mendal exited the frequency and watched others roll by. Suddenly, the rolling stopped. A deep hum permeated the scene as a single electrical frequency band crackled across the screen. This one did not leave.
Mendal tuned into the frequency and visualized himself inside. He was drawn toward a familiar vibration. Was it Earth’s? He felt a strong spiritual presence all around him.
A voice boomed from the world inside the vibration. “Mendal, Caligastia is after you. He wants you destroyed before you can formally announce your alliance with God. You are the last one. The proceedings can be delayed indefinitely if you’re destroyed by Lucifer before—”
Suddenly, Mendal was yanked out of the frequency. The band was forced off the screen and another took its place. The new band had a harsher, more jagged crackling edge to it. It slowly began separating up and down. Someone was stretching it apart to get through. Two hands were tearing the band open from the inside!
His antipathy emanating through the now-large opening, Caligastia stepped out of the frequency. Mendal had nowhere to hide! “This will send you to hell, you bastard, where Lucifer will annihilate you!” Caligastia smacked Mendal, hitting him with the fury of his rage. Mendal was knocked almost entirely out of his mind by the blow.
An intense feeling of falling overtook him. He plummeted down and down through what seemed like the atmosphere of a planet. For a moment, he believed he would fall forever. He was terrified. He had no idea where he might land or if he ever would. Where had he been sent?
Why was he falling? He lost consciousness.
Three suns radiated a scorching, flesh-searing heat on a barren, desolate landscape of sand, sagebrush, rock and red dirt. The only visible sign of life was patches of dying sagebrush.
Mendal regained consciousness with his face down in sandy dirt. He tried to lift himself up, but a force drove his body down. The relentless pressure felt like fiery hands pushing, burning and clawing the flesh from his back. Farther and farther it drove him down. Farther and farther the hands forced him through layer upon layer of red-hot clay.
The clay finally ended. Mendal fell from the top of an underground cavern to the red rock below. Dark-amber hues glowed from the rock cavern walls; walls that radiated an excruciating heat and unbearable odor.
He lay motionless, expecting to somehow wake up from this nightmare. But he soon realized that no mere nightmare could inflict the intolerable suffering and fear he was feeling. He sluggishly picked himself up and attempted to walk. Pain restricted his movement and blurred vision kept him from traveling far. He collapsed to his knees in agony and tried to scream, but no sound came out.
Slowly his vision began to clear. He looked around the cavern for any sign of life. A deep breathing sound permeated a dank, putrid haze floating in from all sides of the cave. The walls themselves breathed out this rank odor and seemed to have eyes that were studying his every movement. He felt as though something was ready to strike if he displayed any sign of weakness. He knew he must stay focused and alert.
“Stand up and get out, Mendal!” a voice shouted into his fading consciousness.
He tried, but a wave of severe pain gripped his body, forcing it to lock into the fetal position. He felt vermin eating his guts from the inside. The pain made his body cramp and convulse. And he could do nothing to stop it.
Hot steam rose from a creek a few feet away. When the pain and cramping temporarily subsided, Mendal crawled toward it. When he reached the edge, it crumbled.
A wave of thick, gooey fluid engulfed his body and sucked him in. He went under. Panic washed over him as he realized he couldn’t breathe. Using all the strength he had left, Mendal clawed his way out of the river. Unable to stand, he lifted his head and wiped the blood from his face and eyes. He crawled a few feet, then stopped. He didn’t know where to go. He didn’t know what to do.
Suddenly, a bright beam of light glimmered from one of the cavern tunnels. For a brief moment, hope for deliverance flashed before him.
“I see a light! Coming to rescue me. A presence in the brightness. A presence of—”
It struck him! Fists of leather and spikes tore and ripped the skin from his face. The vicious beating, accompanied by a screeching and howling, drove a message into Mendal’s fading consciousness. It had come to finish the job of the complete annihilation of his existence and soul. It was the Rage of Lucifer!
“Mendal, this will not be fast. It will be long and excruciatingly painful. As painful as I can possibly make it,” snarled Rage in a deep, guttural rasp. “The more drawn-out, the better, because there is nothing I’d rather do than make sure you no longer exist. And I can make this last for eternity!”
Rage, his fingertips and eyes changing to knives and swords, stabbed and sliced Mendal. Rage laughed and poured burning acid into Mendal’s wounds. He seared and scorched his skin until it shriveled up and peeled off his body. He tore and ripped Mendal into small bits and pieces, then patched him up to keep him alive for more torture.
This continued for what Mendal perceived to be long, agonizing minutes and then hours. Finally, bored of torture, the Rage of Lucifer began to talk. “It’s a dog-eat-dog world, Mendal,” Lucifer hissed through Rage. “Man was created to fight for himself and himself only. The strong prosper and live in luxury; the weak suffer and die alone. Over and over again, life after life. The strong will always be strong; the weak will always be weak.”
“I am the one who is supposed to be God,” Lucifer raged. “Your Michael has no real power, and the Father in Paradise is just a silly dream of His. If God exists, has power and loves you as you say, then where is He? Why doesn’t your God rescue you?”
The Rage of Lucifer raised his massive arms, with fists clenched, high above his head. “Earth is mine! Your death means no decision! So no one can stop me from creating Radania in any way I desire! ‘Majorities rule’ makes me the victor, because the majority did not decide against me.”
He picked up Mendal’s tattered, torn and desecrated body and viciously squeezed the life from it. His remaining blood and bodily fluids oozed and squirted from the slashes and tears in his carcass. His eyeballs popped, his flesh ripped, and his brain matter exploded.
The Rage of Lucifer discarded him. The moment he did, his monsters appeared from the walls of the cavern and were on him with their insatiable desire to devour the last of his remains. They eagerly ripped off and ate the remaining flesh from his bones.
There was nothing left alive of Mendal, yet something spoke inside him. You must try to save yourself, no matter how impossible it looks.
“Who are you? My body is dead. How can I save myself when there is nothing left of me to save?”
You are a small piece of light hovering above your lifeless body. You’d better get away before Lucifer sees you.
His small blue light flickered, ready to burn out; but a puff of air, the breath of God, kept it glowing. From his consciousness inside the light, Mendal looked down at his lifeless form. “There is nothing left to rescue. I cannot move myself. I have no feeling or desire to live.”
Flee! Lucifer will find you. You must try!
Mendal began to surrender to his fate when a ghostly figure of white light edged in violet slowly became visible. The figure immediately engulfed Mendal’s blue light. The violet hues glowed strong and sent their healing powers into his dying spirit.
“I found you as a tiny glimmer,” said the figure, “but I cannot lift you without your help.”
Mendal, gaining some vital strength, looked up at the mysterious voice. “Zee!”
Zee grabbed him and they began to move. “Please, don’t look back, Mendal,” he whispered.
Too late. The sight of Lucifer’s monsters howling, fighting and laughing as they devoured the last of his body, even his broken bones, was too much for Mendal to handle. He cried out, drawing attention to himself and the escape.
Mendal’s blue light, now evolved into a shadowy spirit form, abruptly jerked. A black streak shot from Lucifer had entered Mendal’s psyche. “You think you can escape me, but you can’t. Ever!” Lucifer screeched. “I’ve projected a portion of myself into your soul, Mendal. You’ll never truly leave me for I am now a part of you.”
Zee lifted Mendal to a passageway where moving began to feel easier. He had to revive him into consciousness over and over as they maneuvered through the perpetual maze of passageways that intersected the interior of the planet. Mendal, infused with the healing power of violet light, gradually transformed back into his former self.
Zee, navigating a tight cavern corner, detected a scant cry for help. He listened carefully, trying to determine where the plea was coming from.
Suddenly, Mendal jerked his head upright. “Lisa!” he uttered, his mind reeling with astonishment.
Zee and Mendal, focusing all their awareness on the sobbing sound, had no problem finding Lisa. She was tucked away in a narrow crevice in the upper corner of a cavern wall, hunched in a fetal position, shaking and shivering.
“Lisa,” Zee projected to her psyche, “can you hear me?” Her body twitched in recognition of a voice. “Lisa, I’m a friend,” he projected. “I can help you. I can help you leave this place and go home.”
She let out a strangled moan and lifted her head. But she saw only the abhorrent cavern walls, walls etched with the smell of decaying bodies, dried blood, urine and human excrement. She returned to her fetal position.
A howling sound from a cavern below jolted Zee and Mendal into a stark realization. One of Lucifer’s monsters was after them! Mendal grabbed Lisa and they bolted down the cavern path.
The sounds of the monster increased in intensity. Zee and Mendal took a turn down a side tunnel and then another, the howling sound getting closer and closer. Frenzied, enraged souls, their spirit bodies trapped in the crevices of the walls, clawed and grabbed, cried and screamed.
They took another side tunnel, fleeing as fast as they could. Suddenly, they stopped and looked around. Panic washed over Mendal. They were lost and the monster was quickly gaining ground!
Mendal, back to his original size and strength, positioned himself in front of Lisa and Zee, his body a shield of protection. The monster rounded the last corner. He saw his prey. He pounced.
Mendal let out a deafening roar the moment the creature struck, then—
✶ ✶ ✶ ✶
“John, what’s wrong? Are you okay?” Leslie asked, roughly shaking him. “You screamed really loud.” John stared at Leslie with a look of numbed horror, his entire body shaking.
“John, something weird just happened. You screamed and a horrible ghost or monster or something really awful jumped out of you,” Leslie said, frantically looking around but not seeing any sign of the creatures.
John sat up; his eyes were like saucers. Matt, a hippie friend of Leslie’s from school and a witness to the entire episode, joined them.
“Matt, John took some pure LSD,” Leslie whispered, her and Matt edging out of earshot from John.
“How long ago?”
Leslie looked at her watch. “It’s been about two hours.”
“He’s on a bad acid trip, Les,” Matt said. “I’ve helped lots of friends through these, but I’ve never seen apparitions leap out of a body like that.”
“What can we do?” Leslie asked, visibly upset, on the verge of crying. After all, it was her who caused all this by giving him that terrible drug. What if it has lasting effects? What if he’s never the same?
Don’t worry yourself, Fay, you did just fine. This is what I wanted, Caligastia whispered from deep inside her psyche.
“Nothing. He has to get through this alone, by himself,” Matt said. “We’ll stay with him until he comes down, in about an hour . . . two at the most.”
Leslie nodded. Her and Matt gently rested John against a small mound of dirt by a tree, away from everybody, being especially careful not to frighten or upset him in any way. “Are you comfortable, John?” Leslie whispered in his ear.
John slowly nodded, then—
✶ ✶ ✶ ✶
“Mendal, you’re back!” Zee shrieked, astonished.
“What . . . what happened, Zee?” Mendal asked, shaking his head, trying to clear his thoughts. Everything was fuzzy.
“You and the monsters disappeared the moment they struck you,” Zee said.
“Lisa?” Mendal said, looking around in a panic. “Where’s Lisa?”
“She’s not conscious, Mendal. It looks like she’s been through a horrible ordeal.”
Mendal went to her and gently lifted her in his arms. She let out a cry. “They’re gone, Lisa.” She opened her eyes for a moment and managed a weak smile before she passed out.
Zee engulfed Lisa in his healing violet light and they continued the journey, quickly reaching the surface of the planet without interruption. Without Zee’s assistance, the journey would have been futile, for many spirits spend eternity traveling Lucifer’s caverns, in a desperate search for a way out.
Jagged scars of Mendal’s encounter with Lucifer crisscrossed his face, arms and body. The burned flesh remained discolored. The physical body would heal eventually, but his psyche would be scarred forever.
Mendal and Lisa, her body rapidly healing, embraced. “How did you get inside Lucifer’s planet,” Mendal asked her, gently pulling away.
She clung to him, refusing to let go. “I went to his planet for . . . for a conference. He took me, Mendal. He took me in every way possible. He abused me, tortured me, used me in ways I will never be able to talk about. He told me I was his forever. But when he was done with me, he discarded me.” She burst into tears, still clinging to Mendal. “I wandered cavern tunnels. It seemed forever, Mendal, and all I could think about was you. I’m so sorry.”
“You have nothing to be sorry for, Lisa,” Mendal whispered.
Zee, having difficulty staying focused on the planet, put a hand on Mendal’s shoulder. “I can take only Lisa with me. You have to stay . . . I’m losing focus . . . We must leave.” He lifted Lisa in his arms. She clutched Mendal as long as possible.
“How, my friend, did you ever find me?” Mendal asked Zee, tears of gratitude welling up in his eyes.
“I was traveling through the frequency energy circuits, trying to establish a communication link with Michael, when I chanced upon Lucifer’s frequency,” Zee, quickly fading away, mentally communicated to Mendal. “I entered, aware of the danger he posed to you.”
Mendal sighed. “I know a part of me is left inside this planet, gripped tightly by Lucifer, and a part of Lucifer is in me. I will never be free as long as he lives.”
Mendal gave Lisa a passionate kiss on the lips. “I love you, Mendal,” she cried. “I’ll wait for you forever.” Zee and Lisa vanished.
Mendal scanned the landscape of the surface of the planet. Through the windswept sagebrush and gnarled tree stumps of this sun-scorched wasteland, he saw a town. Transparent, shadowy figures were engaged in what appeared to be a gunfight on the town’s main street. One person stepped toward the other, drew and, in the instant before he fired his gun, was shot in the back by another who materialized directly behind him.
As Mendal walked toward the fight, the decaying, dilapidated town faded in and out. The western cowboy facade was melting in the unbearable heat of the planet. Mendal muttered under his breath as the structures slowly evaporated in the heat of the three scalding suns, “Ghost town?”
✶ ✶ ✶ ✶
Suddenly, John realized he was resting against a small mound of dirt behind a tree. The kegger was winding down. He looked at his watch and whispered to Leslie lying next to him. “It’s been four hours since I took that stuff. I don’t remember anything, but I know God wasn’t there. Never again!”
Chapter 27
John’s Ford rumbled down Interstate 90, barely able to sustain the 55 mile-per-hour speed limit. He adjusted the wide brimmed leather hat he was wearing and leaned back in the oversized seat of the ’50 coupe. “I can’t believe we made it over the Bozeman pass,” John muttered.
“Me neither,” said the two passengers in unison. Leslie sat in the front. Her friend April, with carrot colored hair, burnt almond eyes and a freckled doll face, sat in the back, her long knock-kneed legs stretched out across the seat.
“Next obstacle is the butt hole of Montana,” John said with a guarded smile. “Butte pass could be a nightmare for old Betsy here. Luckily there’s no traffic on the roads tonight.” He affectionately patted her dashboard. “You can do it, babe.”
“I really appreciate you taking April and I to Missoula with you, John,” Les said with true feeling, gently squeezing his thigh through faded denim. She scooted closer.
“This old clunker is scary enough to ride in without you distracting our driver, Les,” April said with a giggle. “I didn’t know cars this old were still allowed on the highway.” She leaned her head back against the overstuffed seat cushion and closed her eyes. Leslie chuckled and moved over to her side of the front seat.
John felt good today. More and more, though, that was unusual, definitely not his normal state. Ever since the acid trip a few months back, he found himself gripped by gut-wrenching anxiety. He remembered virtually nothing about the experience but couldn’t help but feel as though it had something to do with these weird feelings of impending doom.
“Can you believe we’re going to see Heart tomorrow,” Leslie whispered twenty minutes later, obviously not wanting to disturb April’s catnap.
“Yeah, and The Mission Mountain Wood Band. I can’t wait.” John really enjoyed these excursions to Missoula. Deep down, he wished he had gone to college up there like most of his friends had. He got good enough grades in high school, but four more years of school? It just wasn’t worth the effort. At least it wasn’t after he started drinking. But that was something he didn’t like to think about.
“I heard they’re guaranteeing two hundred kegs of beer this year,” Les said. She leaned back and closed her eyes.
John nodded. “Drinking’s all we think about anymore,” he mumbled to himself.
What the hell is that? John thought as the blinking “star” he was watching split into two parts, one half traveling northward, then curving back in a northwesterly direction, the other half continuing its journey eastward.
John, vigilantly watching the “stars” make their way across the sky, slowed down the car. The easterly traveling object at times almost decelerated to a stop, then sped up. Its companion vanished.
The object continued its stop and go journey while John pulled off to the side of the highway. He knew this wasn’t an airplane or satellite. What could it possibly be?
It’s a UFO! he thought frantically. Shit, I’ve got to get out and take a look at that!
“Why are we stopping,” Les asked through a yawn. “Do you gotta take a piss or something?” April stretched and sat up.
John kept his eyes on the object as Betsy gently rolled to a stop. “Look through the windshield, to the right above the hill. What do you see, Les?”
Les gasped. “Is that what I think it is?”
John said nothing; words were not needed. They both knew what it was. The object pulsated in the sky, then grew brighter. Suddenly, it was gone.
“What’s that on the other side of the highway?” John asked incredulously.
A triangular formation of red, blue and green alternately flashing lights, approximately thirty feet from the ground, were slowly maneuvering their way across the road, headed directly towards Betsy.
John, his eyes transfixed on the glowing object, opened the car door.
April let out a strangled cry.
“You’re not getting out, John!” Les screamed.
“No, John, please don’t,” April shrieked in a voice raw with terror.
Leslie tried to grab his arm, but it was too late. He was out and the car door slammed shut.
John immediately bolted to the front of the car. Don’t leave! Don’t leave! He projected his thoughts as hard as he could. Beam me up, Scotty!
The next instant—
✶ ✶ ✶ ✶
“Welcome.” The voice was calm, masculine and, oddly enough, even familiar to John. He could also feel the presence of two females and their energy was very strong.
It took him a few moments to organize his thoughts. A face came into focus for an instant, then disappeared. John instinctively knew he was in the UFO, but he was not afraid. His body felt peculiar, peculiar in a very good way.
“The sensations your body is experiencing, John, are those of your natural state of being,” the voice projected. “When humans leave Earth in death, they return to this state.”
“What! Am I dead?”
John could feel the smile. “No, John, you are not dead. You will return to Earth shortly. We need to have a talk.”
John couldn’t believe how wonderful he felt. “Who are you?”
“In a very definitive way, I am you and you are me. I know this doesn’t make sense to you, but it is true.”
“Are you God? We’re the same because you are God and God is in everyone?”
Again, John could feel the smile. “No, I am not God.”
John could feel the being’s power expand around him.
“You are in a situation that, as probabilities have unfolded, could not have been avoided. This leaves you in an unfortunate state, John, that will worsen for the next few years.”
John attempted to talk, but he was unable to form thoughts into words. “Be silent,” Mendal projected to his earthly counterpart.
“Evil resides within you, John, and it will need to be extracted. Probabilities indicate that this will be successful, but the only future any being can see is the probable future. Nothing is for certain.”
John understood. He didn’t know how he understood, but he did.
“Know in your heart, John, that I am always with you in loving support. Know that, no matter how bad your life becomes, it will only be temporary. This is something you must experience.” John nodded.
“Go back, John. You will not remember our talk, but you will remember this: when the time comes, ask for my help. Together, we can extract the evil that resides within you.”
✶ ✶ ✶ ✶
The moment John reached the front of his car, the craft, with its brilliant, multicolored flashing lights, appeared directly above Betsy. Les and April were paralyzed with fear. The blinding lights were everywhere! The object tilted up and revealed a perfect saucer shaped disk that was silhouetted against white luminous light.
Suddenly, the lights were gone and everything was calm. John opened the car door and got in. He started the car.
Les and April looked at each other. “What happened out there, John?”
“What do you mean?”
Again, the two girls exchanged questioning glances. The drive to Missoula was very quiet.
Chapter 28
“Put down the beer and get over here, John. It’s your shot,” John’s burly, leather-necked pool partner bellowed with a scowl, his grimy fatigues bursting at the seams. “Just make the damn eight-ball shot. We got quarters waitin’.”
John threw two one-dollar bills on the bar, picked up his beer, took a deep breath and focused. His head was spinning. Two years after graduating high school and this is where he’d ended up, drinking in the town’s sleaziest tavern, one of the few he wasn’t banned from.
It took all his concentration not to bump into anyone or spill his beer on his way back to the pool game. He slammed down his glass, beer spilling on the already soaked table, eyeballed the easy bank shot and smashed the eight ball into the side pocket.
The sound grabbed the attention of the leather-clad bikers in the smoke-filled room, as he had intended. He howled “Born to be wild” with the song blaring from the jukebox.
“Shut the fuck up!” shouted half the bar patrons. The room was draped in biker paraphernalia and, as the central attraction, a Harley was hanging from the ceiling. John strolled over to his barroom companion, gave him a “high five,” and shouted to the barmaid, “Another pitcher of Bud on these guys.”
“Yeah, another pitcher is just what you need,” said Steve, walking up and giving John a sharp jab in the arm.
“Well, you finally got here,” said John. “What took you so long?”
“Some of us have jobs,” Steve said, shaking his head in disgust. “You had one of those once, remember?”
John ignored the ribbing and smiled defiantly, chin thrust forward. “Did you see me kick the shit out of these losers?” he said with booze induced belligerence.
“Watch it. We’re in their tavern,” Steve warned. The remark turned the heads of three bearded, longhaired, leather-clad bikers sitting at a table a few feet away.
“Yeah? Well, I can take care of myself!” John slurred, posturing tall and tough.
Steve grabbed him by the arm. “Yeah, like you know how to fight,” he laughed nervously, quickly edging him away from the pool table.
“You drunk motherfucker,” growled one of the bikers under his breath. With bloodshot eyes blazing and fists convulsing in anger, he kicked away his chair as he rose.
“Another fight, Hernandez, and you’re outta here for a month,” the three-hundred-pound bouncer said bluntly, his two backups nodding in agreement.
After a few tense moments, the biker dropped back down and guzzled the remaining half-pitcher on the table. He belched and directed an intimidating scowl toward John. The table cracked up in delirious laughter.
Steve hustled John to the other side of the bar and shoved him into a chair at a small table in the corner. John ordered a pitcher of beer and two glasses.
John and Steve exchanged mindless chatter for another fifteen minutes, Steve keeping an eye open for trouble. John’s life had been spiraling out of control for a long time now. Steve knew his friend was heading for something bad. “When are you ever going to grow up, man?” he said.
“Screw you, that’s when,” John snapped, slurring his words.
Soon the pitcher was empty. Steve got up, grabbed John by the arm and headed for the exit. Before leaving, John broke free and rushed back into the bar and bought a six-pack to go.
Steve climbed into the driver’s side of John’s car. “Whose are do you think you’re getting into, big guy?” John laughed, pushing Steve aside.
“Don’t drive tonight, John. You’re too damn drunk!” Steve said. “I’ll get you home.”
“I’m never too drunk to drive!” John declared.
Steve thought about challenging him, but John could get pretty nasty when had a load on. Besides, Steve wasn’t feeling too much pain himself. “You get me killed, I’ll never speak to you again,” he quipped.
John fumbled with his keys and finally managed to find the ignition. He revved the engine and squealed the tires, spraying gravel over the semi-dirt parking lot as he careened into the street. The car bounced over the curb and then slammed back into the street hard, zigzagging as he floored it.
“Yeah, that’s right,” Steve said, almost closing his eyes. “Make sure the cops know a drunk’s out tonight.” He sighed, shaking his head. “You can be such an asshole, John.”
Unperturbed, John just laughed but not with any mirth. “Takes one to know one, buddy,” he muttered.
“Wait a minute! Where the hell are you going?” Steve yelled, realizing they were in unfamiliar territory. “This isn’t the way to your place!”
“I just want to drive for a while,” John stammered. “I’m fine. Really, dude, I’m okay.”
After a few minutes, John opened up to his best friend, “I can’t do it anymore. I just want to be shitfaced all the time. It’s like something inside is stopping me from believing in God . . . something or someone!” Unable to focus on the road, John slowed to a near stop.
“Someone?” said Steve. His concern was genuine, and even though he was a bit tipsy himself, it showed in his voice. “Talk to me, man. I’m here for you, dude.”
“I’m having these bad dreams every night. The devil’s standing in front of me and laughing,” John whimpered. “He just won’t stop. I want to grab him and kill him, but I can’t reach him. Finally, I get him around the neck and I squeeze and squeeze until he’s dead. Then I lift his head and look at his face, and it’s me! I killed myself!”
John suddenly slammed on the gas in anger, squealing the tires through a stop sign. A porch light came on.
“Watch it, John!” Steve shouted, his eyes wide as his drunken friend roared down the quiet street.
“Too much, dude!” Steve was intrigued by the story but terrified by his friend’s erratic driving. Not only was he speeding, but he was weaving in out of his lane, repeatedly crossing the center yellow line. “But slow down, man, before you get us killed!”
John did slow down, but seemed lost in another world, completely unaware, as he drove without consciously realizing what was going on around him. He saw the speeding van with the corner of his eye, but nothing registered.
“The van!” shouted Steve.
He had a green light. Damn if he was going to stop. Fuckin’ drivers!
The van, going 60 mph in this residential neighborhood, ran the red light and slammed into John’s car.
✶ ✶ ✶ ✶
“He’s not breathing!” the paramedic shouted to his partner. John’s face was slashed from ear-to-ear, his front teeth missing. “Get his heart going. Now! We’re losing him!”
Steve, broken bones protruding through his jeans, screamed when the paramedics lifted the stretcher. They whisked him into one of the two ambulances at the scene. His face and upper body were uninjured, but both his legs were a mangled mess of exposed muscle and bone.
Flashing lights from four emergency vehicles illuminated the midnight sky. John’s car was crushed by the weight of a telephone pole. The other vehicle had careened between two parked cars, finally resting a foot into the side of a house. People, roused from their beds, pointed and gawked at the mayhem.
Two policemen handcuffed the uninjured driver of the van and jerked him up from the wet grass. “Jim, it’s that hippie bastard from Chicago,” the police officer yelled to his partner. “Look what you’ve done now, you dope smokin’ son of a bitch!” The cop dragged Dean to the squad car and brutally forced him into the back seat, his head cracking into unyielding metal. The ambulances left with a blast of sirens.
✶ ✶ ✶ ✶
The intensive care unit’s overhead fluorescent lights glared upon John’s nearly lifeless body. Two elderly nurses and one young aide monitored the life-support machines and managed the tubes that seemed to come out of every part of him.
A doctor, dressed in surgical scrubs, entered the room. He looked at John’s mangled face and shook his head. Tears rolled down the cheeks of the young aide. “I went to school with him,” she sobbed. “He’s the nicest guy.”
“I’ve done all I can,” said the doctor, holding the hand of the sobbing aide. “It’s out of our hands now,” he whispered to her.
An angel of mercy appeared to the distraught nurse and gave her in an instant of relief with the innate knowledge that John will survive his death.
The young aide stayed; the others left. She stroked John’s forehead, her face etched with sorrow. The steady beep of the life-support machine was the only sound that broke the eerie silence of the early morning . . . until the beep faded away.
John heard a calm, yet forceful, masculine voice. “Reach inside yourself and pull him out.”
He opened his eyes as wide as he could but saw no one. The ceiling tiles were out of focus and the lights were dim. He felt peculiar, as if he were floating or drifting. He turned his head and found himself looking down at his own body. He sensed frantic activity in the room but could see nothing but his own body lying on the hospital bed.
What’s happening to me? Please God, what’s happening to me?
“Reach inside yourself and pull him out,” the voice repeated.
Be calm. I’m not dead. Do what the voice says. John reached his hand into his chest. He clutched at something buried deep inside him.
“Grab him and pull; pull hard. This is very important, John.”
John grabbed hold of whatever was inside him and yanked. It wouldn’t budge. It was firmly implanted and determined to stay.
“You’ve got him. Pull hard. This is important, John. PULL NOW!” John pulled with all his strength. Nothing happened.
Please, my friend from the sky, please help me! John asked instinctively. Suddenly, he felt a hundred times stronger. He pulled again.
With a loud pop, he ripped what looked like a skeleton out of his soul. The skeleton instantly transformed into a towering figure. The men glared at each other; their eyes filled with animosity.
John was face to face with Lucifer!
“Your life as John is over,” said the voice. “It’s time to make your decision.”
Chapter 29
Three suns, ablaze as one enormous inferno in the sky, ignited electrical flames that sizzled and hissed through the moisture less air in lightning like patterns. Mendal, standing alone, looked up into the deep violet hue of the shimmering atmosphere of the planet.
Where was he? The desolate surface consisted of only sandy dirt and rock, with occasional pieces of dying sagebrush and dead tree stumps littering the landscape. Mendal felt the sting of sand bite into his skin and tasted the dust on his lips.
He slowly turned and scanned the vacant street directly ahead of him. Wind-driven dirt devils swirled out of control. Broken shutters slammed against rotting window frames. Rusted hinges creaked. Ghost-like figures appeared, peering out of broken windows and door-less entryways, then vanished. He felt a chill sweep through his body and up his spine. His soul filled with dread, ameliorated only by a tinge of hope that somehow all that had been so murky would soon become clear as crystal.
Recognition flashed over his face as he recalled this decaying, frontier ghost town. He was back on Lucifer’s planet! A rush of power and confidence surged through his body and soul; confidence brought forth from his struggle to survive on Earth, a planet dominated by the rebellion of Lucifer. He steeled his will for the confrontation that he was certain would be inevitable.
“Show yourself, Lucifer, if you have the courage!” Mendal shouted. “Your reign on Earth is over. You and your followers will never again deceive innocent people.”
Eyes peered through windows. Shadowy figures lurked at every doorway, alleyway and rooftop. The murmur of a gathering crowd penetrated the thin, fiery air.
The suns made Mendal squint. Blood flowed from his cracked lips. The heat blistered his face. He pulled down his cowboy hat to block the merciless rays. He adjusted the holster he found himself wearing. The .45’s seemed to fit as though they were made for him. He waited.
Wind whipped around his body, forming a spiral of swirling dust. He took the bandanna tied around his neck and lifted it to his face. The excruciating pain of pressure on heat blisters made him cringe. He took a deep breath. He had to remain conscious. If this was to be his defining moment, he wasn’t about to fail.
Mendal glanced upward to the heavens. He knew he needed help to survive, and he prayed. He prayed to God. He prayed to Michael. He prayed to survive this hell he was in.
Mendal fully remembered his just-ended life as John. He remembered the years in Dalamatia, Fay, Lisa and—
Zee! This is Zee, Mendal. Remember what you saw the last time you were here! Watch your back!
Fifty feet away, a figure slowly materialized in a swirl of dirt and dust. Mendal felt a cold chill. He glanced up to the heavens, smiled at the spirits he knew were watching, and prepared to make his decision.
“No!” shouted a voice from behind him.
Mendal froze. A sickening wave of terror surged through his body. The intense hatred he felt all around could mean the presence of only one being: Lucifer!
“Do you really think I’d let you destroy me?” Lucifer said. His voice was seething with vitriol, his every word fiendishly devised to mock, humiliate and terrorize. The grotesque power of evil filled the air as he spoke. “You want me, Mendal? Well, here I am.” Lucifer’s arms rose and engulfed Mendal in a surge of his power. “What do you think you can do to me, all alone and by yourself? Do you really think I’m that weak and vulnerable?”
The evil of Lucifer sucked Mendal back into the interior of the planet. He was flung onto the hard, red-rock cavern floor. Dark amber hues glowed from the rock walls; walls that radiated an excruciating heat and unbearable odor.
Mendal picked himself up, then recoiled in horror; Rage was waiting for him!
“That’s right, Mendal, you’re back,” the Rage of Lucifer said with demented amusement. “And this time I won’t quit until I know you’re dead!” Rage’s fingertips and eyes changed to knives and swords.
Fear overtook Mendal, a fear that told him he must remain here for eternity, for Lucifer never loses a battle. His mind agonized in torment as he contemplated the endless future that awaited him.
“You underestimate me, Mendal!”
Suddenly, an overwhelmingly powerful spiritual essence, something indescribable in intensity, something stronger than Mendal ever imagined existed, something dominant, yet comforting in His presence, blanketed Lucifer’s planet with the righteousness of His love. Mendal felt his fear evaporate in an instant, faster than the twinkling of an eye.
The Creator Son, Christ Michael of Nebadon, shattering the boundaries of time and reality as known in this universe, spoke.
“NO, LUCIFER, YOU UNDERESTIMATE ME!”
Suddenly, Mendal was back to where he had been before Lucifer’s interruption. Again, just as the gunfighter became physical, Mendal glanced upward to the heavens, smiled at the ghostly spirit forms watching and made his decision.
Mendal drew and fired with his right hand. The bullet entered the Prince’s skull between the eyes and lodging in his brain. Caligastia staggered.
Zee’s warning lodged in his subconscious, Mendal instinctively spun, dropped to his knees and shot with his left. Lucifer fired simultaneously. Mendal’s head, pushed by an intervening hand, jerked to the right. Lead skimmed his left ear.
Mendal’s bullet struck its mark and anchored deep in the System Sovereign’s heart. Both Lucifer and Caligastia crumpled to the ground.
Cheers, coming from all directions and locations, broke the eerie silence. Mendal slowly stood and scanned the street. The cheers became a deafening roar.
Mendal raised his arms in triumphant victory. He had defeated his enemies. With fists clenched high above his head, he mouthed, “Thank you.”
Previously hidden in the planet’s atmospheric inferno, a seraphic transport became visible. At that exact moment, Mendal found himself aboard the vessel. He looked around, expecting to see angelic transporters, the pilots of these heavenly craft. To his surprise, he saw no one.
“Mendal,” whispered a voice from an adjoining room.
What? he thought, smiling, that sounds like . . . Mendal stepped toward the portal, his heart hammering in anticipation.
Lisa, her long blonde hair in braids down her back, met him as he entered the ship’s bridge, her arms wide open. They embraced and gently kissed. For a moment he thought this was all an illusion, a fantasy formed by his mind. But he quickly came to understand that what was happening to him now was more real, more truly substantive, than anything he had ever experienced before.
“I said I’d wait for you, Mendal,” Lisa said, taking him by the hand and leading him to the craft’s control center. “And look what I brought with me.”
Mendal smiled and nodded. She really was one of a kind and never ceased to amaze him. “Nice, Lisa, a custom transport. Where’d you get it?”
“On loan from Gabriel. A small gift to help make up for what we’ve been through, Mendal. And Luna was kind enough to agree to be captain for us. She’s been great helping me through my physical and mental therapy.” Lisa gave Luna a gentle hug.
Suddenly, the seraphic transport vanished. Destination: Earth, circa 1974. It was time to help a friend.
Chapter 30
A luxuriously decorated bedroom was the scene for a nightly ritual between two lovers. The sound of passion filled the air. Fay, using her body to frantically slam the man to orgasm, screamed as she, too, reached the peak of passion. Her head tilted in wonder at a barely discernible sound coming from the hallway.
The double doors were violently kicked off their hinges. Two massive storm troopers entered the room. Their bodies were completely encased in a white metallic shell, giving the impression of machine, not man. Although they were carrying no weapons, invincibility came to mind as the only applicable description of these creatures.
Fay shrieked in terror. She leaped from the bed and, realizing she couldn’t escape, cowered in a corner of the room, her arms covering her naked breasts.
The man just lay there, knowing and accepting what he had feared and dreaded for years. The glorious honor and esteem once bestowed upon this prince of Earth had degenerated into disgrace and humiliation.
“Caligastia, in the name of Christ Michael, we have been sent to deliver you to the Ancients of Days. The decision of the last personality has been made and I am proud to be the one to inform you of the verdict.”
Caligastia’s naked body rose from the bed in shame. Being stripped of all pride and dignity somehow seemed an appropriate ending for the man who instigated the rape and pillaging of the souls of Earth.
“The Lucifer rebellion has failed to poison the minds of a majority of the personalities detained on Earth.” This voice of justice, this voice of righteousness, this voice of God, was heard not only through the room, but through the entire universe as well.
“Lucifer’s stipulation of ‘majority rules’ has now ended this outrage against the government of Michael of Nebadon. Loyalty to Michael and the reverent belief in the Universal Father in Paradise is the majority decision.”
The two stormtroopers yanked Caligastia up from his kneeling position on the floor and encased him in an impenetrable force field. They looked upward, nodded a signal and were beamed from Earth to the seraphic transport above.
Chapter 31
Several of Caligastia’s remaining staff gathered around the sign posted on the front door of Caligastia’s administrative headquarters. “Meeting at sunrise, outside headquarters. Everyone must attend. No exceptions,” read staff associate Nod aloud to the others.
“Maybe this will explain Caligastia’s sudden disappearance,” said Berg, one of the Andonite assistants, with a disconcerted look.
Nod turned and faced the crowd, now twenty in number and growing larger by the second. His lips pursed with suppressed fury. He opened his mouth to speak, then hesitated. All eyes were on him. “Mendal!” was all he could say. He stormed through the crowd, hands thrown up in disgusted resignation.
The crowd broke into small groups to discuss tomorrow’s meeting. “Like we don’t know what happened,” Cyril, a staff associate, said bitterly. “Obviously Mendal made his decision and it wasn’t what we hoped for.”
“I heard Michael intervened on Mendal’s behalf,” said staff associate Rena.
“That’s not possible,” said Cyril. “Michael has a policy of non-interference in matters concerning the local systems.”
“He made an exception,” said staff associate Smit, walking up to join the discussion. Smit was known for his intellect and logical reasoning. They all turned to listen. “Gabriel saw Lucifer and Satan interfere with Mendal’s decision on twentieth-century Earth. In his mind, this was a clear violation of the guidelines, so he petitioned the Uversa courts.” Smit paused to let the others gather around. “The courts agreed and decided to allow Michael a single disruption in the time-reality of Nebadon. Because of Earth’s quarantine, it could happen only on Lucifer’s planet.”
“Lucifer will argue in the courts to the end of his days that Michael violated the guidelines set by the Ancients of Days,” said Cyril, “and I agree with him. He should be vindicated.”
“But we all know that Lucifer broke the quarantine many times,” argued Rena, “and interfered with Mendal’s decision.”
Smit nodded. “Because of those violations, the courts, after careful consideration, decided Michael could intervene, if He so desired. When Michael saw what Lucifer had planned for Mendal, He stepped in. He wanted to make sure Mendal was allowed to make his decision without any undue pressure.”
“And, as we all know now, Mendal decided for Michael,” said Berg, “essentially killing both Lucifer and Caligastia.”
“Of course, not literally. Only symbolically. No one has the literal power to end a spiritual existence, except the Ancients of Days,” said Rena, shaking her head, “and then only after proper hearings.”
A tall, lean, light-haired man cleared his throat to speak. The crowd quieted. “I have been sent to speak a few words of encouragement,” said the man with a look of rapture. “It is not too late to join the ways of God. He will forgive all who sincerely repent the rebellion and the evil ways of Lucifer.”
“I don’t recognize you,” said Smit, his eyes narrowed with suspicion.
“What do you know about the rebellion?”
“The rebellion has ended,” he said solemnly.
“What will become of Lucifer and Caligastia?” asked Rena and Cyril in unison.
“We believe that all rebels who will ever accept mercy have done so. We await the flashing broadcast that will deprive these traitors of personality existence. We anticipate the verdict of Uversa will be announced by the executionary broadcast that will effect the annihilation of these interned rebels. Then will you look for their places, but they shall not be found. ‘And they who know you among the worlds will be astonished at you; you have been a terror, but never shall you be any more.’ And thus shall all of these unworthy traitors ‘become as though they had not been.’ All await the Uversa decree.
Chapter 32
The sixty members of the planetary staff who went into rebellion worked wholeheartedly for the rebel Prince but soon discovered that they were deprived of the sustenance of the life circuits. They awakened to the fact that they had been degraded to the status of mortal beings. They were indeed superhuman but, at the same time, material and mortal.
Very soon after Mendal’s decision, the entire staff was engaged in energetic defense of the city against Almed and his horde of semi-savages. In an effort to increase their numbers, Hammone ordered immediate resort to sexual reproduction with the tribespeople, knowing full well that the original sixty and their thirty-nine modified Andonite associates were doomed to suffer extinction by death, sooner or later.
The presence of Hammone and these extraordinary supermen and superwomen, stranded by rebellion and presently mating with the sons and daughters of Earth, easily gave origin to those traditional stories of the gods coming down to mate with mortals. And thus originated the thousand and one legends of a mythical nature, but founded on the facts of the postrebellion days, which later found a place in the folk tales and traditions of the various peoples whose ancestors had participated in these contacts with Caligastia’s staff and their descendants.
Years before the beautiful headquarters went down beneath the southern waves, Almed and the tribes of the Dalamatia hinterland had already swept down in semi-savage assault on the splendid city. After the Dalamatia’s fall, Nod and his followers migrated to the north and the east. Their descendants were long known as Nodites, and their dwelling place as ‘land of Nod.’
The previously impenetrable forty-foot high walls of Dalamatia were soon in shambles. Small fires burned throughout the city while primitive tribespeople rummaged around in the ruins of the first capital of Earth.
One hundred and sixty-two years after the rebellion a tidal wave swept up over Dalamatia, and the planetary headquarters sank beneath the waters of the sea, and this land did not again emerge until almost every vestige of the noble culture of those splendid ages had been obliterated.
The followers of Van withdrew to the highlands west of India, where they were exempt from attacks by the confused races of the lowlands.
Chapter 33
The long, narrow peninsula, almost an island, projected from the eastern shores of the Mediterranean Sea. The neck to the mainland was only twenty-seven miles wide at its narrowest point. The climate was ideal, due to the encircling mountains and the fact that this area was virtually an island in an inland sea. The coastline landmass was significantly elevated. The great river that watered the Garden, as they called it, came down from the higher lands of the peninsula and flowed east through the peninsular neck to the mainland.
Van and his followers arrived at the site chosen as the new world headquarters. The site was the most beautiful spot of its kind in the world. It was the one bright spot on Earth, for the world beyond was engulfed in darkness, ignorance and savagery.
Van took a break from the construction of dwellings when Amadon, his Andonite assistant, pulled him aside. “Van, something’s been bothering me. I know you don’t like to talk about the Lucifer rebellion, but I really need a few answers.”
Van wiped the sweat off his brow and sat on a nearby stump. “Go ahead,” said Van, “this one time. I don’t want to be caught up in the past. The Tree of Life has arrived and the Garden of Eden must be ready when Adam and Eve make their appearance.”
“Are the rumors about Mendal true?” asked Amadon, using his shovel as a leaning post. “Did he really fight and defeat Lucifer?”
“Yes, he really did,” Van nodded. “And his decision was never in doubt.”
Amadon looked at Van, his eyes narrowed with suspicion. “Then why did he wait so long to announce it?”
Van stood and stretched. He tipped down his hat to block the rays of the sun. “Before Mendal was stationed on Earth as a member of Caligastia’s staff, he got the urge to take a glimpse at Earth’s probable future. During a break, he viewed Earth’s history on a quantum probability computer.”
“Probable future?”
“Its future at that moment,” Van explained. “The quantum probability computer forecasts the future based on events it projects should occur. It was against the rules, but he accessed it anyway.”
“What did he see?” asked Amadon anxiously.
“Earth had no future. Lucifer destroyed it.”
“What!”
“In Earth’s probable future, Lucifer destroyed Earth when Mendal announced his decision to support Michael.” Van walked a few feet to the water well. He took a drink and rinsed his face in the cool, clear liquid. “Because of the system circuit shutdown, Jerusem officials were unable to prevent Lucifer from taking revenge on the planet that caused his downfall.”
“So when Mendal saw Lucifer destroy Earth, he didn’t know why,” said Amadon, beginning to see the wisdom and courage in Mendal. “But when the rebellion was announced, Mendal knew Lucifer would destroy Earth for siding with Michael.” Amadon rested on one knee next to Van. “In Earth’s probable future, anyway.”
“Yes, its probable future at that moment,” Van nodded. “The only way Mendal could stop Earth’s destruction was to change the probabilities, by making a life-altering decision.”
“So Mendal decided not to decide.” Amadon smiled at Mendal’s extraordinary act.
“Because Mendal had viewed Earth’s probable future without permission,” Van explained, sitting back down on the stump, “he had to live as though he hadn’t. He could tell no one.”
“I see.” Amadon thought for a moment. “Knowledge of the future by the wrong person could have affected the probabilities and resulted in disastrous consequences,” Amadon surmised. “And Mendal kept his secret.”
“Yes,” Van said, “and he delayed his decision as long as possible.
Lucifer had to believe Mendal was truly undecided for the plan to work.”
“But no decision would have meant a victory for Lucifer,” said Amadon.
“No decision was not an option,” Van replied. “Mendal knew the authorities would force the issue. He believed in God and he had faith in Michael. He knew that was enough to get through anything.”
Van smiled and got up off the stump. “Time to get back to work.”
“Please, just one more question,” Amadon pleaded. “When the rebellion failed, why weren’t the system circuits restored to Radania and Earth? And what has happened to Caligastia, Satan and Lucifer?”
“The system circuits will not be reinstated so long as Lucifer lives,” Van said. “We are waiting for the Uversa courts to hand down a decision in the matter of Gabriel vs. Lucifer. Lucifer was taken into custody by the agents of the Uversa Ancients of Days and has since been a prisoner on a transition sphere of Jerusem. Satan is also detained on a Jerusem prison world.”
“What about Caligastia?” asked Amadon.
“He is free to roam Earth until the expected annihilation verdict is issued,” Van replied. “But he has absolutely no power to enter the minds of men, nor can he draw near to their souls to tempt or corrupt them unless they really desire to be cursed with his wicked presence.
“It is true: ‘He who is born of God keeps himself, and the wicked one touches him not.’”
The End
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