Shooting Eros - The Emuna Chronicles: Complete Boxset: Books 1 - 3

by Benjamin Laskin

  Gideon, gun in hand, slid up to the scene.

  Cyrus spun and planted a fighting stance, ready to take on the new threat.

  “Whoa!” Gideon said. “It’s me.”

  Cyrus relaxed and Gideon scanned the scene. He nodded in approval. He wanted to ask Cyrus where he learned to fight like that, but he heard sirens fast approaching and figured that Cyrus didn’t want to be sticking around.

  “Go,” Gideon told him. “Sam and I will handle this.”

  Cyrus saluted and took off running. Gideon watched as Cyrus leaped into the air at a chain-linked fence, bounced off, caught a cross bar, twirled once around, and like a gymnast, flung through the air to land on top of a building and disappear.

  Amazed, Gideon muttered, “The guy’s a freaking ninja.” He turned his attention to the three groaning men on the ground.

  Gideon Baer had no way of knowing that because of the experiential knowledge Cyrus had downloaded from the Midrasha to six degrees of separation, he was capable of the same feats of agility as those of thousands of the best athletes that the world had ever known, including martial artists, gymnasts, stunt men, circus performers, and even rodeo calf ropers—all of whose lives and experiences he now contained.

  Their talents and expertise were a part of Cyrus’s being; their remarkable abilities having melded with the training and know-how that he had already acquired as a cupid commando and angel. His only limitation was his personal level of fitness, which was excellent. Cyrus wasn’t superhuman, but he was super-exceptional.

  Gideon stomped over to the man with the dislocated elbow, who was beginning to stir. He cuffed him, ignoring his agony.

  “Who ordered the hit?” Gideon demanded.

  “Fuck you,” the man snarled.

  “Why did you stab that defenseless old man?”

  The goon spat at Gideon’s feet.

  Gideon grabbed the man’s dislocated elbow and twisted it. “Who sent you?”

  “Nobody!” he yelped.

  Sam ran up huffing just as two police cars, lights flashing, approached from the other end of the alley. Sam looked about and took in the three downed assailants. “Good work,” he said, very impressed.

  “Not mine,” Gideon said.

  “Cy—?”

  Gideon put a finger to his lips and nodded.

  Sam laughed and shook his head. “You’d think that by now I’d have learned to stop being surprised.” He turned his attention back to the three figures writhing on the ground. “Why would these bastards do such a thing? That old guy couldn’t have been a threat to anyone.”

  Gideon said, “They aren’t gonna talk. They know they’ll be freed in a day or two.”

  “Not if I have anything to say about it,” Sam said.

  The police cars arrived on the scene and three cops approached them through the haze of the cars’ headlights, their hands on their holsters. A fourth stayed back, reporting in to someone.

  Sam and Gideon held up their badges. “Unfortunately, you don’t,” Gideon said.

  One of the cops said, “Did you boys do this?”

  “No,” Sam said.

  “Well, who the hell did?”

  “Dunno,” Sam replied. “But it looks like we might have a vigilante on the loose.”

  “One guy couldn’t have done this,” the cop rejoined.

  “Terrific,” another cop said. “Just what we need, vigilantes. Shit.”

  30

  Heaven Bound

  Captain Volk and I made three flying passes around the Anteros fortress. We kept in invisible mode to evade the scores of guards, watchtowers, surveillance cameras, and patrols that protected the main compound and bunkers. Afterwards, we settled on a mountaintop a safe distance away.

  “You weren’t exaggerating,” Volk said. “I was expecting a few caves and an encampment, maybe some cinder block buildings. The place is huge. I suspect that what we see is only half of what is there, that the rest is underground.”

  “Did you notice all the idols?” I said, appalled. “They actually worship wood and stone? Is that Anteros?”

  “Yes, but we’re no better. We have idols of Eros.”

  “Did you think Anteros was this numerous?”

  Volk shook his head. “Clearly, they’ve been recruiting for a long time. I thought their forces might have totaled a company or two.”

  “We saw at least enough for a brigade, Captain. And that doesn’t include those in the bunkers and caves. Plus, all those yetzers. How could the Academy not have noticed?”

  “Someone knew. Anteros is getting inside help, and it has to be coming from high up. Who handles the log books?” he asked rhetorically.

  “Celestials…like Grace.”

  “Like Grace,” he grunted.

  “But you don’t really think that Grace could be an Anteros disciple, do you?”

  “We can’t rule it out,” he said.

  I didn’t like the tone of his voice. If Grace were in on such a conspiracy, neither he nor Commander Sett would be very forgiving.

  Volk said, “This place is virtually impregnable. It would require the entire cupid army to take it. And even then, with Anteros’s trained yetzers and defenses, the outcome would be highly questionable. It would be a bloodbath.”

  “We don’t have to take it,” I said. “We just have to rescue Virgil.”

  “Any sign of him?”

  “No, but I’ve been watching the compound, and I think they might be holding him in a cave above that bunker over there.” I pointed and handed Captain Volk my binoculars.

  “What makes you think so?” he asked, putting the glasses to his eyes.

  “It’s gotten the most attention. I saw a retinue of Anteros soldiers head up there, and they seemed to be surrounding someone of importance.”

  “Hamanaeus?”

  “Maybe, but I don’t know what Hamanaeus looks like.”

  “Tall, lanky, bearded, well-coiffed, and dressed like a dandy.”

  “That was the guy,” I confirmed.

  “Good work, Kohai.”

  “So, what do we do?”

  “First we find out if Virgil’s okay. Did you try to contact him?”

  “You mean, using thought mode? I was too far away. Down here we have to be within normal talking distance.”

  “Did,” Volk said. “Not anymore. You proved that already. Cyrus and I were hundreds of miles away when you contacted us.”

  “You were? Wow. I didn’t know that.”

  “When it comes to the impossible, often not knowing is better.”

  “But doesn’t Virgil have to be receptive if he’s to hear us? He thinks it’s impossible too. He is probably tuning us out.”

  Volk put his arm around me in reassurance. “Don’t take this too hard, Kohai, but you underestimate the power of simple emuna. Virgil possesses an almost childlike faith, whereas you, Captain Cyrus and I, tend to be more intellectual about it. I’m not discounting your faith, Kohai, but it’s different than Virgil’s. Yours is as strong, but his is deeper.”

  “I understand, Captain,” I said. “I envy him that. But what are you getting at?”

  “Virgil’s emuna, his faith in HaShem, is so total and profound that he does not think anything is impossible. If you tell him to jump, he’ll say, ‘How high?’ Tell him to pray, he’ll say, ‘How long?’ Tell him that HaShem can pick up a mountain, he’ll say He can pick up a sea too, and without a drop falling between His fingers. Perfect faith. He’s not simpleminded. He’s not stupid. He trusts wholly in HaShem. And, if you tell him that he can’t communicate with you beyond a certain distance, he’ll say, ‘Says you!’”

  “That’s Virgil,” I admitted.

  “Besides, it’s two of us now. I can bump up your signal. If he’s still alive and conscious, we can bang so loudly on his cerebellum that he’ll have to answer us.”

  “Then what are we waiting for!”

  Captain Volk and I started ‘dialing’ Virgil’s number, so to speak. It ‘rang�
�� for a good minute, but Virgil didn’t pick up. I started to feel discouraged, but Volk, sensing my disappointment, gave me a mental slap on the back of the head. I redoubled my efforts.

  We heard a voice. It was distant and wispy, but we had a connection.

  “Hello…hello?”

  “Virgil! It’s me!”

  “Kohai? Is it really you?”

  “Yeah, buddy, it’s me. And Captain Volk is here too!”

  “Captain Volk?”

  “Yes, Virgil. I’m here.”

  “Baruch HaShem!” Virgil exclaimed. “I knew it! I knew you’d find me!”

  With Virgil focused now, the signal was crystal clear.

  “Are you okay?” I asked.

  “They’ve…they’ve been interrogating me,” he answered. “I haven’t told them anything, Captain Volk.”

  “I’m sure you haven’t, soldier,” Volk said.

  Virgil said gloomily, “I think they are coming back soon for more.”

  I said, “We’re outside the Anteros stronghold. It’s heavily fortified. We think you’re being held in a cave overlooking the main compound. Can you confirm that?”

  “I’m not sure where I am. I was unconscious when they brought me here. I could be in a cave. I’m in a cement room with no windows. There is nothing in here but a wooden table and three old wooden chairs. I’m tied to one of them.”

  “Virgil,” Volk said. “Did Hamanaeus come to see you?”

  “Yes, he does most of the questioning.”

  “What does he want to know?”

  “All kinds of stuff, but what he is most interested in is us.”

  “Us?” Volk said.

  “You, me, and Kohai. He wants to know how we do what we do. He thinks we have some fancy hi-tech gadgets, and he wants them.”

  “Can you spin out of there?” I asked.

  “I can’t move my arms or legs,” he said. “Someone’s coming. The door is opening… It’s him. It’s Hamanaeus.”

  “Virgil,” Volk said. “Listen up. Tell him what he wants to know.”

  “But Captain, I could never—!”

  “Don’t worry,” Volk said. “He’s not going to believe you.”

  “Then how will that help me?”

  “It won’t, but it will buy us some time. If you’re unconscious we can’t help you. Keep him interested. As long as you’re conscious we can home in on you.”

  “Yes, Sir.”

  “Hang in there, buddy,” I said. “We’re coming.”

  “Be careful,” Virgil said. “There are yetzers out there. I can smell a Mocking Yetzer right outside the door.”

  “Roger that,” I said. “Over.”

  I turned to Captain Volk. “You have a plan, right?”

  “No. Do you?”

  “Well,” I said, “I was kinda thinking that we spin down into that cave. Keep in stealth mode as long as possible. Locate Virgil’s room. Kill whoever is in there with him. Untie him, and then the three of us spin out.”

  “Just like that?” he said with a frown.

  I shrugged, embarrassed by the inanity of the plan.

  Volk smiled. “I like it. Let’s go.”

  31

  Nose Jobs

  Virgil heard the sliding of the bolt on the steel door. Hamanaeus, cane in hand, and two brawny Anteros soldiers entered the room. Virgil caught a glimpse of the mangy back of a huge Mocking Yetzer stationed outside.

  One of the soldiers pulled up a wooden chair in front of Virgil. Hamanaeus sat down imperially and palmed his manicured beard in contemplation. He smiled, but to Virgil he looked more like a dog baring his teeth.

  “I’ve given you time to ponder your situation, Cadet. I hope that you have decided to reconsider your recalcitrance.”

  Virgil, covered with bruises and welts, and his eyes swollen into slits, nodded.

  “Good,” Hamanaeus said. “If I find your cooperation satisfactory, I will put you in charge of your own platoon. After a few trials, I think I will be able to quickly promote you. I was extremely impressed by the fight that you and your friend put up during your capture. I had never seen such moves before, such speed. You boys dispatched thirteen of my soldiers and four of my fear demons. It was very costly, but a price I am happy to pay with the gaining of your allegiance. We can use cupids like you.”

  Virgil nodded again, but said nothing.

  “Now,” Hamanaeus continued, pleased by the young soldier’s apparent change of heart, “about your extraordinary skills, tell me about them.”

  “They come from HaKadosh Baruch Hu,” Virgil answered.

  “What’s that?” Hamanaeus asked. “Some new computing platform?”

  “God,” Virgil answered. “The Lord is my strength and my shield, my heart trusts in Him.”

  Hamanaeus scowled and shook his head in deep disappointment. “And here I was thinking you were ready to cooperate.”

  “I speak the truth.”

  “You mock me!” Hamanaeus said, stamping his cane on the cement floor. “If you insist on lying to me, you could at least respect my intelligence. The Academy teaches a lot of horseshit, but even the Academy has its standards. It would never teach the rubbish you just mouthed.”

  “The Academy is not my home,” Virgil replied defiantly. “Their teachings are not my studies. I learn at the feet of the disciples of the great sages. The heaven you speak of is Heaven’s backwater. We cupids are the dregs of Heaven. Worse than fallen, we are abandoned. God has turned His face from us. Unless or until we repent and seek God with all our hearts we will continue to live in our private hell and call it Heaven. Or, until the Almighty gives up on us all together, and destroys us.”

  “Not some nonexistent god,” Hamanaeus said assuredly, “but me. I will destroy your Heaven and build a new Heaven here on earth.”

  “If that be so, then it will be by God’s will, not yours.”

  “Lad,” Hamanaeus said condescendingly, “outside this cement box is an immense fortress created by my hand alone. I started with nothing but a few hundred stragglers left from the Great War. With patience and hard work, I built an army that will soon overrun your Heaven. I will bring it down to earth where it belongs.

  “The humans are on my side, son,” he continued. “They have slaughtered hundreds of millions of their fellow men in their centuries-long pursuit of Utopia, their monolithic heaven on Earth. They will gladly enslave themselves to anyone who promises them their fantasy, and I will help them. Freedom is too great a burden for the humans. They want to be ruled, so I will give them that ruler.”

  “I am not a philosopher,” Virgil rejoined. “I am a simple angel of simple faith. I won’t argue with your observations. The humans are indeed sunken and debased and clinging to the 49th level of depravity, as are my kinsmen above.

  “But this I do know: You, sir, shall be neither ruler nor savior of anything that God cherishes. My sole purpose is to be an angel of God, and not you, not man, nor my fellow cupids will keep me from my path. It is HaShem I fear, HaShem I serve. To Him I cling, and by His Name I swear.”

  Hamanaeus smirked. “Cadet, you put on a brave face and an entertaining show, but my patience is gone. I repeat my offer for the last time. Join me, bring your plucky pal with you, and together we will conquer Heaven and Earth. You will know the taste of true power. There is no point of Heaven any longer. It is a failed enterprise. You deserve better. Look how your comrades envy the humans. Like teenyboppers they ape and mimic everything the humans do. It’s pathetic, but it is also key to my return.”

  “We’re a confused and sorry lot,” Virgil agreed. “But it is our ignorance that makes us so. Once we understand our true nature we will beg the All Merciful for forgiveness and regain our status as genuine angels of God.”

  Hamanaeus sighed regretfully. “You are right, Cadet, you are not a philosopher. You are a fool, but a damn talented one. I can accomplish my mission with or without you or your friend, but I would prefer you to be at my side when I shatter Heav
en and bring glory to the name of Anteros. If, however, you waste any more of my time, I will toss your bound body into a pit of ravenous fear demons. They will devour you, and then floss with your sinews and pick their teeth with your bones. A pity, but that’s the score.”

  Hamanaeus stood and looked down on Virgil.

  “Now,” he continued, “this invisibility of yours, that is a fine technology. I would never have believed your Academy technicians capable of such a feat, but kudos to them. I want that gadget, Cadet. Are you going to help me get it, yes or no?”

  “There is no gadget. It is a gift from the Almighty, a result of my faith in Him.”

  “Enough!” Hamanaeus shouted, infuriated. He motioned to the two brutish soldiers standing behind him. “Lieutenant Phorcus, Private Arcas, take this halfwit to the demon holding tank and make a snack out of him.”

  “Yes, Sir,” the lieutenant said. The soldiers stepped forward.

  “Wait,” Virgil said. “I can prove it!”

  Hamanaeus held up his hand, signaling the soldiers to halt. “Go on.”

  “You searched me, did you not? I have nothing on me but my uniform. My arms and legs are bound. What can I do?” With that, Virgil vanished.

  Hamanaeus drew back, startled. He narrowed his eyes and jabbed at the empty chair with his walking cane.

  “Ouch,” Virgil said. “Watch the family jewels, would ya?”

  With a wag of his head, Hamanaeus ordered the lieutenant to check out the invisible captive. Phorcus reached towards the chair, his hands landing on Virgil’s shoulders. He followed the curves of Virgil’s body, outlining his form.

  “That tickles,” Virgil said.

  Phorcus replied with a hard slap across Virgil’s face. “Did that?”