Fantasy The Best of 2001

by Robert Silverberg

  Pilgrims traveled great distances to visit the holy sites and wait for a visitation, hoping for a miracle cure. Whereas in most of the world one could wait an entire lifetime and never experience a visitation, at a holy site one might only wait months, sometimes weeks. Pilgrims knew that the odds of being cured were still poor; of those who stayed long enough to witness a visitation, the majority did not receive a cure. But they were often happy just to have seen an angel, and they returned home better able to face what awaited them, whether it be imminent death or life with a crippling disability. And of course, just living through a visitation made many people appreciate their situations; invariably, a small number of pilgrims were killed during each visitation.

  Janice was willing to accept the outcome whatever it was. If God saw fit to take her, she was ready. If God removed her legs again, she would resume the work she’d always done. If God let her legs remain, she hoped she would receive the epiphany she needed to speak with conviction about her gift.

  She hoped, however, that her miracle would be taken back and given to someone who truly needed it. She didn’t suggest to anyone that they accompany her in hopes of receiving the miracle she was returning, feeling that that would’ve been presumptuous, but she privately considered her pilgrimage a request on behalf of those who were in need.

  Her friends and family were confused at Janice’s de­cision, seeing it as questioning God. As word spread, she received many letters from followers, variously express­ing dismay, bafflement, or admiration for her willing­ness to make such a sacrifice.

  As for Ethan, he was completely supportive of Jan­ice’s decision, and excited for himself. He now understood the significance of Rashiel’s visitation for him: it indicated that the time for him to act had come. His wife Claire strenuously opposed his leaving, pointing out that he had no idea how long he might be away, and that she and their children needed him too. It grieved him to go without her support, but he had no choice. Ethan would go on a pilgrimage, and at the next visitation, he would learn what God intended for him.

  Neil’s visit to Sarah’s parents caused him to give further thought to his conversation with Benny Vasquez. While he hadn’t gotten a lot out of Benny’s words, he’d been impressed by the absoluteness of Benny’s devotion. No matter what misfortune befell him in the future, Benny’s love of God would never waver, and he would ascend to Heaven when he died. That fact offered Neil a very slim opportunity, one that had seemed so unattractive he hadn’t considered it before; but now, as he was grow­ing more desperate, it was beginning to look expedient.

  Every holy site had its pilgrims who, rather than looking for a miracle cure, deliberately sought out Heaven’s light. Those who saw it were always accepted into Heaven when they died, no matter how selfish their motives had been; there were some who wished to have their ambivalence removed so they could be reunited with their loved ones, and others who’d always lived a sinful life and wanted to escape the consequences.

  In the past there’d been some doubt as to whether Heaven’s light could indeed overcome all the spiritual obstacles to becoming saved. The debate ended after the case of Barry Larsen, a serial rapist and murderer who, while disposing of the body of his latest victim, wit­nessed an angel’s visitation and saw Heaven’s light. At Larsen’s execution, his soul was seen ascending to Heaven, much to the outrage of his victims’ families. Priests tried to console them, assuring them—on the basis of no evidence whatsoever—that Heaven’s light must have subjected Larsen to many lifetimes worth of pen­ance in a moment, but their words provided little comfort.

  For Neil this offered a loophole, an answer to Phil Soames’ objection; it was the one way that he could love Sarah more than he loved God, and still be reunited with her. It was how he could be selfish and still get into Heaven. Others had done it; perhaps he could too. It might not be just, but at least it was predictable.

  At an instinctual level, Neil was averse to the idea: it sounded like undergoing brainwashing as a cure for depression. He couldn’t help but think that it would change his personality so drastically that he’d cease to be himself. Then he remembered that everyone in Heaven had undergone a similar transformation; the saved were just like the eyeless except that they no longer had bodies. This gave Neil a clearer image of what he was working toward: no matter whether he became devout by seeing Heaven’s light or by a lifetime of effort, any ultimate reunion with Sarah couldn’t recreate what they’d shared in the mortal plane. In Heaven, they would both be different, and their love for each other would be mixed with the love that all the saved felt for everything.

  This realization didn’t diminish Neil’s longing for a reunion with Sarah. In fact it sharpened his desire, because it meant that the reward would be the same no matter what means he used to achieve it; the shortcut led to precisely the same destination as the conventional path.

  On the other hand, seeking Heaven’s light was far more difficult than an ordinary pilgrimage, and far more dangerous. Heaven’s light leaked through only when an angel entered or left the mortal plane, and since there was no way to predict where an angel would first ap­pear, light-seekers had to converge on the angel after its arrival and follow it until its departure. To maximize their chances of being in the narrow shaft of Heaven’s light, they followed the angel as closely as possible dur­ing its visitation; depending on the angel involved, this might mean staying alongside the funnel of a tornado, the wavefront of a flash flood, or the expanding tip of a chasm as it split apart the landscape. Far more light-seekers were killed in the attempt than succeeded.

  Statistics about the souls of failed light-seekers were difficult to compile, since there were few witnesses to such expeditions, but the numbers so far were not en­couraging. In sharp contrast to ordinary pilgrims who died without receiving their sought-after cure, of which roughly half were admitted into Heaven, every single failed light-seeker had descended to Hell. Perhaps only people who were already lost ever considered seeking Heaven’s light, or perhaps death in such circumstances was considered suicide. In any case, it was clear to Neil that he needed to be ready to accept the consequences of embarking on such an attempt.

  The entire idea had an all-or-nothing quality to it that Neil found both frightening and attractive. He found the prospect of going on with his life, trying to love God, increasingly maddening. He might try for de­cades and not succeed. He might not even have that long; as he’d been reminded so often lately, visitations served as a warning to prepare one’s soul, because death might come at any time. He could die tomorrow, and there was no chance of his becoming devout in the near future by conventional means.

  It’s perhaps ironic that, given his history of not fol­lowing Janice Reilly’s example, Neil took notice when she reversed her position. He was eating breakfast when he happened to see an item in the newspaper about her plans for a pilgrimage, and his immediate reaction was anger: how many blessings would it take to satisfy that woman? After considering it more, he decided that if she, having received a blessing, deemed it appropriate to seek God’s assistance in coming to terms with it, then there was no reason he, having received such terrible misfortune, shouldn’t do the same. And that was enough to tip him over the edge.

  Holy sites were invariably in inhospitable places: one was an atoll in the middle of the ocean, while another was in the mountains at an elevation of 20,000 ft. The one that Neil traveled to was in a desert, an expanse of cracked mud reaching miles in every direction; it was desolate, but it was relatively accessible and thus pop­ular among pilgrims. The appearance of the holy site was an object lesson in what happened when the celes­tial and terrestrial realms touched: the landscape was variously scarred by lava flows, gaping fissures, and im­pact craters. Vegetation was scarce and ephemeral, re­stricted to growing in the interval after soil was deposited by floodwaters or whirlwinds and before it was scoured away again.

  Pilgrims took up residence all over the site, forming temporary villages with their ten
ts and camper vans; they all made guesses as to what location would maxi­mize their chances of seeing the angel while minimizing the risk of injury or death. Some protection was offered by curved banks of sandbags, left over from years past and rebuilt as needed. A site-specific paramedic and fire department ensured that paths were kept clear so rescue vehicles could go where they were needed. Pilgrims ei­ther brought their own food and water or purchased them from vendors charging exorbitant prices; everyone paid a fee to cover the cost of waste removal.

  Light-seekers always had off-road vehicles to better cross rough terrain when it came time to follow the angel. Those who could afford it drove alone; those who couldn’t formed groups of two or three or four. Neil didn’t want to be a passenger reliant on another person, nor did he want the responsibility of driving anyone else. This might be his final act on earth, and he felt he should do it alone. The cost of Sarah’s funeral had de­pleted their savings, so Neil sold all his possessions in order to purchase a suitable vehicle: a pickup truck equipped with aggressively knurled tires and heavyduty shock absorbers.

  As soon as he arrived, Neil started doing what all the other light-seekers did: criss-crossing the site in his ve­hicle, trying to familiarize himself with its topography. It was on one of his drives around the site’s perimeter that he met Ethan; Ethan flagged him down after his own car had stalled on his return from the nearest gro­cery story, 80 miles away. Neil helped him get his car started again, and then, at Ethan’s insistence, followed him back to his campsite for dinner. Janice wasn’t there when they arrived, having gone to visit some pilgrims several tents over; Neil listened politely while Ethan—heating prepackaged meals over a bottle of propane—began describing the events that had brought him to the holy site.

  When Ethan mentioned Janice Reilly’s name, Neil couldn’t mask his surprise. He had no desire to speak with her again, and immediately excused himself to leave. He was explaining to a puzzled Ethan that he’d forgotten a previous engagement when Janice arrived.

  She was startled to see Neil there, but asked him to stay. Ethan explained why he’d invited Neil to dinner, and Janice told him where she and Neil had met. Then she asked Neil what had brought him to the holy site. When he told them he was a light-seeker, Ethan and Janice immediately tried to persuade him to reconsider his plans. He might be committing suicide, said Ethan, and there were always better alternatives than suicide. Seeing Heaven’s light was not the answer, said Janice; that wasn’t what God wanted. Neil stiffly thanked them for their concern, and left.

  During the weeks of waiting, Neil spent every day driving around the site; maps were available, and were updated after each visitation, but they were no substitute for driving the terrain yourself. On occasion he would see a light-seeker who was obviously experienced in off-road driving, and ask him—the vast majority of the light-seekers were men—for tips on negotiating a specific type of terrain. Some had been at the site for several visitations, having neither succeeded or failed at their previous attempts. They were glad to share tips on how best to pursue an angel, but never offered any per­sonal information about themselves. Neil found the tone of their conversation peculiar, simultaneously hopeful and hopeless, and wondered if he sounded the same.

  Ethan and Janice passed the time by getting to know some of the other pilgrims. Their reactions to Janice’s situation were mixed: some thought her ungrateful, while others thought her generous. Most found Ethan’s story interesting, since he was one of the very few pil­grims seeking something other than a miracle cure. For the most part, there was a feeling of camaraderie that sustained them during the long wait.

  Neil was driving around in his truck when dark clouds began coalescing in the southeast, and the word came over the CB radio that a visitation had begun. He stopped the vehicle to insert earplugs into his ears and don his helmet; by the time he was finished, flashes of lightning were visible, and a light-seeker near the angel reported that it was Barakiel, and it appeared to be mov­ing due north. Neil turned his truck east in anticipation and began driving at full speed.

  There was no rain or wind, only dark clouds from which lightning emerged. Over the radio other light-seekers relayed estimates of the angel’s direction and speed, and Neil headed northeast to get in front of it. At first he could gauge his distance from the storm by counting how long it took for the thunder to arrive, but soon the lightning bolts were striking so frequently that he couldn’t match up the sounds with the individual strikes.

  He saw the vehicles of two other light-seekers converging. They began driving in parallel, heading north, over a heavily cratered section of ground, bouncing over small ones and swerving to avoid the larger ones. Bolts of lightning were striking the ground everywhere, but they appeared to be radiating from a point south of Neil’s position; the angel was directly behind him, and closing.

  Even through his earplugs, the roar was deafening. Neil could feel his hair rising from his skin as the electric charge built up around him. He kept glancing in his rearview mirror, trying to ascertain where the angel was while wondering how close he ought to get.

  His vision grew so crowded with afterimages that it became difficult to distinguish actual bolts of lightning among them. Squinting at the dazzle in his mirror, he realized he was looking at a continuous bolt of light­ning, undulating but uninterrupted. He tilted the driver’s-side mirror upward to get a better look, and saw the source of the lightning bolt, a seething, writhing mass of flames, silver against the dusky clouds: the angel Barakiel.

  It was then, while Neil was transfixed and paralyzed by what he saw, that his pickup truck crested a sharp outcropping of rock and became airborne. The truck smashed into a boulder, the entire force of the impact concentrated on the vehicle’s left front end, crumpling it like foil. The intrusion into the driver’s compartment fractured both of Neil’s legs and nicked his left femoral artery. Neil began, slowly but surely, bleeding to death.

  He didn’t try to move; he wasn’t in physical pain at the moment, but he somehow knew that the slightest movement would be excruciating. It was obvious that he was pinned in the truck, and there was no way he could pursue Barakiel even if he weren’t. Helplessly, he watched the lightning storm move further and further away.

  As he watched it, Neil began crying. He was filled with a mixture of regret and selfcontempt, cursing himself for ever thinking that such a scheme could succeed. He would have begged for the opportunity to do it over again, promised to spend the rest of his days learning to love God, if only he could live, but he knew that no bargaining was possible and he had only himself to blame. He apologized to Sarah for losing his chance at being reunited with her, for throwing his life away on a gamble instead of playing it safe. He prayed that she understood that he’d been motivated by his love for her, and that she would forgive him.

  Through his tears he saw a woman running toward him, and recognized her as Janice Reilly. He realized his truck had crashed no more than a hundred yards from her and Ethan’s campsite. There was nothing she could do, though; he could feel the blood draining out of him, and knew that he wouldn’t live long enough for a rescue vehicle to arrive. He thought Janice was calling to him, but his ears were ringing too badly for him to hear anything. He could see Ethan Mead behind her, also starting to run towards him.

  Then there was a flash of light and Janice was knocked off her feet as if she’d been struck by a sledge-hammer. At first he thought she’d been hit by lightning, but then he realized that the lightning had already ceased. It was when she stood up again that he saw her face, steam rising from newly featureless skin, and he realized that Janice had been struck by Heaven’s light.

  Neil looked up, but all he saw were clouds; the shaft of light was gone. It seemed as if God was taunting him, not only by showing him the prize he’d lost his life try­ing to acquire while still holding it out of reach, but also by giving it to someone who didn’t need it or even want it. God had already wasted a miracle on Janice, and now He was doin
g it again.

  It was at that moment that another beam of Heaven’s light penetrated the cloud cover and struck Neil, trapped in his vehicle.

  Like a thousand hypodermic needles the light punc­tured his flesh and scraped across his bones. The light unmade his eyes, turning him into not a formerly sighted being, but a being never intended to possess vi­sion. And in doing so the light revealed to Neil all the reasons he should love God.

  He loved Him with an utterness beyond what humans can experience for one another. To say it was uncon­ditional was inadequate, because even the word “uncon­ditional” required the concept of a condition and such an idea was no longer comprehensible to him: every phenomenon in the universe was nothing less than an explicit reason to love Him. No circumstance could be an obstacle or even an irrelevancy, but only another reason to be grateful, a further inducement to love. Neil thought of the grief that had driven him to suicidal reck­lessness, and the pain and terror that Sarah had expe­rienced before she died, and still he loved God, not in spite of their suffering, but because of it.

  He renounced all his previous anger and ambivalence and desire for answers. He was grateful for all the pain he’d endured, contrite for not previously recognizing it as the gift it was, euphoric that he was now being granted this insight into his true purpose. He understood how life was an undeserved bounty, how even the most virtuous were not worthy of the glories of the mortal plane.

  For him the mystery was solved, because he understood that everything in life is love, even pain, especially pain.

  So minutes later, when Neil finally bled to death, he was truly worthy of salvation.

  And God sent him to Hell anyway.

  Ethan saw all of this. He saw Neil and Janice remade by Heaven’s light, and he saw the pious love on their eyeless faces. He saw the skies become clear and the sunlight return. He was holding Neil’s hand, waiting for the paramedics, when Neil died, and he saw Neil’s soul leave his body and rise toward Heaven, only to descend into Hell.