Dead Sky

by Weston Ochse

  “You were going to tell me about the yazatas,” he said.

  “What do you think they are?” Rumi asked.

  “Some posit they’re demons. Evil spirits.”

  “The darkness that lurks at the edges of each civilization. Yes, we need to put a name to that which scares us. Demons. Yazatas. That could be so.”

  “Are you telling me that you don’t know?”

  “I think you have a better answer. I’ve paid for my knowledge with time. What have you paid for yours?”

  Suddenly the general raised his pistol and shot Boy Scout through the head.

  The universe flipped and Boy Scout found himself hovering outsideof the daeva and back in the astral plane.

  He willed himself to return home and hardly noticed that the entity was looking at him as he slammed home into his physical body.

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  Our Lady of Atlas in Exile

  DE CHERGE HAD given them a larger room, which they used as a common area.

  Boy Scout entered and sat roughly on the couch.

  Charlene and Preacher’s Daughter glanced at him, but were deep in conversation.

  Charlene shook her head and looked at Preacher’s Daughter. “You’re getting it wrong, girl. Demons never appeared in the Old Testament. They’re a product of the Greeks translating various versions of the Bible and the fourth century Vulgate.”

  “Nice try,” Preacher’s Daughter said. “What about Deuteronomy 32:17-17? They made Him jealous with strange gods; With abominations they provoked Him to anger. They sacrificed to demons who were not God, To gods whom they have not known, New gods who came lately, Whom your fathers did not dread.”

  “What about it? That’s the line everyone goes to when they want to argue the presence of demons. But it’s all translation issues. The original Hebrew text never really had a word for demon.”

  “Careful, Charlene,” McQueen said, an amused look on his face. “Preacher’s Daughter doesn’t like to be wrong.”

  “Easy, big boy. I’m not wrong,” Preacher’s Daughter said.

  “Oh, yes you are, dear.” Charlene took out a stick of gum. She placed the gum she’d been chewing in the wrapper and folded it up, then inserted the stick of fresh gum into her mouth. Once she’d masticated it into a snapping mess, she continued. “As I said, the original text never had a term for demons. It was the Greek use of daimoniois that was taken and translated in the Latin, which is why we are here now. For instance, the whole purpose of the Deuteronomy passage, and the later passage in Psalms 106: 36-37, was to poke fun at those worshipping gods of foreign peoples. In the first case, it was the Israelites. In the second, it was the Canaanites. Those were spiritually territorial verses designed to inform the reader that they needed to stick with the God that brung them.”

  “Whapow,” McQueen said smugly.

  “As far as devils were concerned, every reference was used to dis Baal worshipers. Again, used merely to make sure that the readers of the Bible stuck with the God in context. In summary, there are no demons or devils in the Old Testament, only idols worshipped by other people.”

  Preacher’s Daughter stared at Charlene for a moment, then shook her head. “Where did you come from?”

  “Indiana originally, but I’m in Arizona now.”

  “And here I thought you were just an above average psychic hairdresser astrologist.”

  “We’ve never met, remember? That was all in one of your dreams. But I did feel it. And the other time, too.”

  They all turned to Boy Scout.

  “You look exhausted, boss,” McQueen said.

  “Rumi says hi, by the way.”

  “You saw him? You entered The White?”

  “I did. Or at least I think I did.”

  “What did he say?” Preacher’s Daughter asked.

  “I asked him about the yazatas and he turned into a South Vietnamese general and shot me in the head. He said I need to earn the knowledge.”

  “You all live such interesting lives,” Charlene said.

  “Says a Chinese curse always,” Preacher’s Daughter said.

  “We were talking about demons,” McQueen said.

  Charlene pointed at Boy Scout. “That nasty little beast inside of you wants to come out, but it wants to do it on its own terms. It’s starting to figure out what it is.”

  “So, you can see it?” Boy Scout asked.

  “I can see it, and I can also see a woman.”

  Boy Scout shook his head. “She’s gone. I just saw the last of her.”

  “No. She’s still there. She’s just... changed. She’s now part of the yazata. She’s younger. And she knows you. I can see her smiling.”

  “Sister Renee?” he asked, air leaving him. “She’s alive... or whatever she is? I thought she’d died.”

  Charlene chewed on her thumbnail for a moment. “Nope. Not dead. Say, does anyone have any food around here?”

  McQueen straightened from where he’d been leaning against the door. “That’s what I was thinking, too. Maybe a pizza.”

  Preacher’s Daughter mouthed the word FAT at McQueen.

  “Everyone hold your horses,” Boy Scout said. “Put what you mean into context for me.” He glanced at Preacher’s Daughter and Charlene.

  Both women nodded, but it was Preacher’s Daughter who spoke first. “Sister Renee called the thing inside of you the King of Demons. One has to wonder if that’s an actual title, or a term derived from her Christian point of view. As Charlene has adequately discussed, there was no mention of demons in the Old Testament, which is the one derived from borrowed stories and ideas, especially Zoroastrianism.”

  Charlene shook her head as if it were the saddest thing and mouthed the word adequately.

  “Biblical evidence provides several theories that try and clarify what are popular beliefs,” she said out loud. “One is that demons are spirits of deceased wicked men. But Psalm 9:17, Luke 16:23, and Revelation 20:13 all indicate that these spirits would be in Hades. Another theory is that demons are spirits of a pre-Adamic race, but there’s no support in scripture for that. In Corinthians 1, the Bible declares that Adam was the first man. Another theory is that demons are the results of an unnatural union between angels and women in Genesis 6. I particularly hate this one. Not only is this pure supposition, but don’t even get me started with the fact that angels were injected into the Bible to make it more spiritual. Then there’s the theory that the word demon is simply another name for fallen angels.”

  “Thanks for the Wikipedia entry,” McQueen said. “But what does this have to do with anything? Or is it something we can talk about over pizza?”

  “What it means, dear heart,” Charlene said, “is that if there were no demons in the Bible, then there are no demons at all unless they’re something that the Europeans developed in the fourth century.”

  “Wait,” Boy Scout said. “If there are no demons then, what was all that about Kamaris and the Ars Goetia? What was in Sister Renee that made her—” No one knew what she’d been told, so he kept it to himself. “What about Sister Renee? What about the exorcism?”

  Charlene tutted. “Oh, there’s something. It’s just not a demon.”

  “Really? What’s in a name?” McQueen asked.

  “Then what is it?” Boy Scout demanded.

  Preacher’s Daughter thrust out her hip and crossed her arms. “Why don’t we see what Charlene has to say?”

  “I’ll pick what’s behind door number three,” Charlene said. “They are the spiritual remnants of a pre-Adamic race.”

  The Children of God, Boy Scout thought.

  “You believe in spirits?” McQueen asked.

  “Said the fella whose friend was stuffed with them,” Charlene said. “Yes, I believe in spirits. Newton’s Law of the Conservation of Energy said that energy can neither be created nor destroyed. The spirit is pure energy. It has to go somewhere.”

  McQueen’s eyes narrowed. “I’m not sure that’s what Newto
n meant.”

  Charlene shrugged. “Doesn’t matter what he meant. He was merely stating a universal truth.”

  “They were around before Adam, then,” Boy Scout said.

  “Lots of things were around before Adam. Animals, bugs, insects… probably even the daevas. None of which were mentioned in the Bible. Some weren’t mentioned because they were details. Others weren’t mentioned because the Biblical architects didn’t want them included.”

  Preacher’s Daughter nodded. “The daevas were first mentioned 5th century BCE. In the initial Zoroastrian gathas they weren’t evil. But as the religion progressed and became more popular, they were labeled as evil and much of what you see in the Ars Goetia regarding the names of specific demons comes from the list of daevas. Even back in the 5th century BCE, they were talking about beliefs that existed for many centuries before then. These beliefs could have been made based on actual evidence, or on superstition. What we do know is that the daeva exist. We’ve seen them in action.”

  “I remember them well.” Boy Scout sighed, images of them flashing through his head. “Where are you going with this?”

  “In addition to the daeva, there are also the yazatas. I’ve been doing some research with the material provided by the Black Dragoons care of Special Unit 77. Some have the original Persian gods as yazatas, but more research seems to say that they were extraordinarily tall humanoid beings who were worshipped and revered by man.”

  “There were giants on the earth in those days,” Boy Scout murmured.

  Charlene stuck out her tongue. “I hate that one.”

  Preacher’s Daughter broke into a smile. “Exactly. And what if those giants were the yazatas? It would explain why they have access to The White, just as the daevas do.” She raised a hand before anyone could chime in. “I also want to point out that their first appearance in comic books was in the giant-sized Conan published in 1974. What you might not know is that the time period in Conan that the events take place was fifteen thousand years BCE, during the Hyborian Age.”

  “So now we’re supposed to believe Stan Lee?” McQueen asked.

  “Robert E. Howard,” Boy Scout corrected. “He literally invented the sword and sorcery genre.” He nodded to himself and chuckled. “He also used the books of Bullfinch’s Mythology as source material for his Conan stories. The same books that mention the Zoroastrian religion.”

  “It’s in comic books now?” McQueen said, surprised.

  “Everything’s in comic books,” Boy Scout said.

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  Our Lady of Atlas in Exile

  “WE NEED TO come up with a solid plan,” Boy Scout said later, after they’d eaten.

  Sadly, the food wasn’t the pizza McQueen had been hoping for. Instead, it was a hearty beef stew with homemade bread served by the monks and nuns of the monastery. While Boy Scout had appreciated the meal, McQueen had complained bitterly about his lack of access to pepperoni.

  “How long do you think we have before Poe comes after us?” McQueen asked.

  Boy Scout looked at Charlene.

  She shook her head. “Don’t go thinking I’m in charge because I have information not available to you. That’s the problem with people once they find out I’m a psychic. They lose their interest in doing things. They stop thinking on their own and start depending on me. They stop being agents of action.”

  Boy Scout nodded, then stared into space. “Our earlier conversation about doors had me thinking. There might be a way for me to get this thing out of me. I might actually survive doing it.”

  “But,” McQueen said. “Where’s the but?”

  “But it would involve returning to Afghanistan and luring the other daeva here.”

  Both Preacher’s Daughter’s and McQueen’s jaws dropped.

  Preacher’s Daughter was the first to recover. She shook her head and laughed hollowly. “That’s a place I wouldn’t wish on my worst enemy. I’m so done with Afghanistan.”

  “Seriously?” McQueen asked. “You want us to go back?”

  Boy Scout shook his head. “Not you. Me.”

  “Don’t think you’re going to go there without me,” McQueen said, ever loyal.

  Boy Scout placed a hand on McQueen’s shoulder. “I appreciate it, man, but you can’t go the way I am.”

  “Astral projection?” McQueen asked. “Can you even do that—I mean travel somewhere?”

  Boy Scout told them about his last trip and how he’d spied on the daeva in the consulate. “If I can do that, then I can go to Afghanistan.”

  “But didn’t Charlene tell us that every moment spent on the astral plane is one where you might get attacked?” Preacher’s Daughter asked.

  “She did, but it’s the only way I know to get this thing out of me,” Boy Scout answered. “I can’t go to the consulate. It’s under surveillance. The dervishes try and move anything even remotely the size of the daeva and the FBI will pop them. So, it’s either sit here and wait for the yazata to realize I’m ripe for the taking, or become that agent of action,” he said, nodding to Charlene.

  “What are you going to do in Afghanistan?” Preacher’s Daughter asked.

  “I’m going to find the daeva and let them know where their missing brother is. I’m guessing they’re going to want him back. Then I’m going to ask if they want the yazata inside of me and offer them a way to do it.”

  “How are they going to get it out of you?” Preacher’s Daughter asked.

  “I’m still working on that, but I have a solid idea.”

  “I just love it when you build the missile in flight,” McQueen said. He whistled and added, “Yeah, in-flight missile repairman.”

  Boy Scout shrugged. “If I fail, then it’s only me.”

  McQueen frowned at him. “What if I learn to astral project? It can’t be that hard.”

  “It was at first, and it doesn’t always work out. I think I have an affinity for it. I was deeper in The White than any of you. I think by doing what I did there, it made my ability to astral project easier.”

  “But you won’t have us to protect you,” McQueen said.

  Boy Scout closed his eyes, took a breath, then opened them so he was staring alternately at McQueen and Preacher’s Daughter. “You can’t spend the rest of your life protecting me. You have lives of your own, you know?”

  Preacher’s Daughter stood and strode to the other side of the room. She whirled, fury torturing her features. “Don’t you think we know that? Don’t you think we understand we’re putting our lives on hold because of you? We could walk out anytime. There’s no one holding a gun to our heads. My contract was long over.”

  Boy Scout didn’t say a word.

  “All I ask is a little appreciation. After all, we’ve spent the better part of six months working to get you free from the effects of our last mission.”

  Boy Scout pointed behind her. “There’s the door. No one’s holding you here.”

  She glanced behind her and then back at Boy Scout. She looked at McQueen for help, but he just sat and watched with wide eyes. “Are you fucking kidding me right now? Did you really just ask me to leave? After everything I’ve done for you?”

  He stared at the ground. “I’m just saying that if you want to go then you can go. I’m not holding you back.”

  “Of all the—” Her anger dissolved for a moment as she fought tears. She slapped them away. “If that’s the way you want it, then fine.” She looked around the room, her eyes dead, but her voice mangled with emotion. “I got nothing keeping me here.”

  Then she was out the door and slamming it behind her.

  No one spoke for a full minute.

  Boy Scout merely stared at the floor. Although he’d hated saying what he had, there was a reason behind it—no, there were three reasons buried in Afghanistan and he didn’t need another one.

  “Now that was something I didn’t expect,” McQueen said. “You going to go after her?”

  “No,” Boy Scout said simpl
y.

  “What do you mean, no? Boss, I’m not sure you were paying attention, but Lore just walked out the door.”

  “I was paying attention.”

  “You were? But then why—” McQueen got to his feet. “Someone’s got to stop her. Aren’t you going to—” He cursed under his breath as he opened the door and slammed it behind him.

  All Boy Scout could do was stare at where McQueen had departed. He said to no one in particular, “That’s a damned sturdy door.”

  “You know she’s not coming back,” Charlene said.

  “I know. It’s what I was hoping for.”

  “They feel like they deserve some appreciation,” she said.

  “I’m sure they do, and they deserve for me to say something.” He turned to look at her. “But if I do, then they’re going to keep watching my back until one or both of them dies. I can’t have that.”

  “You can’t always change the future,” she said.

  “But I can change the way everyone plays the game. You said that. Listen, I’m a fucking death magnet and about to invite a squadron of demi-gods to descend on Los Angeles so they can free one of their kind. Bad shit will ensue. People will die.”

  “Then why do it? You that desperate to get the yazata out of you?”

  He sighed. “Never that desperate. If it was just me, I’d walk into the desert and take care of it myself. But this is bigger than me. I don’t like the idea of the dervishes having a superhuman entity at their disposal. They don’t deserve it. The thing is no better than a prisoner being kept to fuel their desire to live forever.” He leaned forward. “You know what Faood said? He said if I keep this thing inside of me and feed it the souls of travelers, I can live forever, too. Do you know the significance of three thousand, nine hundred and forty-two?”

  She shook her head.

  “Faood said that’s the number of graves outside of the cistern in Afghanistan. Three thousand, nine hundred and forty-two. That’s the number of people killed by the dervishes. And it doesn’t include the souls of the travelers they collect and feed to the yazatas inside of them. One thousand more? Two thousand more? I can’t reward that by inaction. You want me to be an agent of action? I’ll be a fucking agent of action.” He got to his feet. “I’ll be a fucking agent of action,” he repeated. “I’ll burn the place down. LA can take it. She’s had far worse done to her than a few demigods rampaging through a building or two in Westwood. And if every last damned dervish dies in the process, then this Earth will be better off for it.”