Eternity Gate

by Traci Harding

  ‘Well, he’s got a lot on his mind right now.’ Sammael noted a precarious situation unfolding with the deconstruction. ‘Watch out!’ he yelled in warning to the crew at ground level as a heavy metal gun shaft slipped from its casing and slid toward the edge of the craft, stopping short of falling on the Grigori beneath. ‘What part of “be careful” do you not understand?’ he yelled at the demolition crew on top of the vessel.

  ‘Sorry, boss!’ Bezaliel shouted back, somewhat sarcastically, standing up to pull his unruly black mop of hair off his face — something he only did when he was preparing for a flight. Bezaliel may not have been much taller than Sammael, and lacked his musclebound physique, but what he lacked in stature he more than made up for with pure aggression. ‘If you can do a better job, you are welcome up here.’

  Bezaliel was about as obnoxious and inconsiderate as the Grigori came, but he and Sammael made sport of feuding with each other, which aided both of them to let off steam.

  ‘I’m trying to have a conversation here,’ Sammael motioned to Armaros beside him, ‘if you’d be so kind as to just handle this shit until I’m done.’

  Bezaliel forced a grin and served Sammael the finger.

  ‘Appreciated!’ Sammael looked back to Armaros. ‘You were saying?’

  Armaros frowned. ‘I mean, why will he not tell us what has happened to Araqiel? Why will our brother not be joining us, when he promised me we would be going together?’

  Sammael seemed to agree this was a little odd. ‘Maybe Araqiel got infected?’

  ‘I think it more likely that Azazèl has been infected,’ Armaros fronted up with what was really on his mind.

  ‘Steady on,’ Sammael rejected the premise at first.

  ‘He hasn’t been right since he returned from that audience without Araqiel.’ Armaros pushed his point in a whisper. ‘He’s despondent, looking ill, and smelling poorly.’

  ‘I hadn’t noticed,’ said Sammael, then recanted that statement in part. ‘I just thought him a little more pissed off than usual.’

  ‘Well take notice,’ Armaros suggested. ‘Because if I am right, we have a very big problem on our hands.’

  Sammael stood back and considered the premise more carefully. ‘I guess there would be no better way for the emperor to sneak one of his new etheric pets on board than to conceal it in our commander. But it’s really not safe to discuss this here.’

  ‘Just be alert,’ Armaros took the hint and dropped the subject for the moment.

  ‘I will investigate.’ Sammael assured him.

  I was appeased to note that the caution had got Sammael thinking, and Araqiel and I trailed him to my office where Sammael passed right through the closed door to find my possessed body sitting out the commotion.

  ‘It’s not like you not to be out there directing traffic,’ Sammael commented as he entered and made his presence known.

  ‘It is customary to knock.’ The mind-eater was most displeased.

  Holding his fist up, Sammael played out the hand gesture. ‘Knock, knock.’

  ‘Go away,’ it retorted.

  ‘It is customary to say “come in”.’ Sammael lampooned.

  ‘I give the commands,’ it answered, ‘and I did not request your presence.’

  ‘Do you ever?’ Sammael asked, which seemed to confuse it.

  ‘If you wish to be smart, I can have you flogged,’ it threatened, deadpan.

  ‘Yeah, good one.’ Sammael laughed off the idea, as he came to stand before it, arms folded.

  ‘You wish to be flogged?’ it assumed.

  ‘You’ve never flogged anyone.’ Sammael informed it.

  ‘There’s always a first time.’ It forced a grin. This strain of mind-eater was smarter than the previous ones and better at adapting to conceal its presence.

  ‘But seriously,’ Sammael must have smelled a rat, as he appeared very determined, ‘I wanted to talk to you about what you said in Lux.’

  ‘Where is Lux?’ It obviously couldn’t find a reference for such a place.

  ‘You know, the place of light that we discovered over in the Maviclon system.’ Sammael replied; he was lying about the location of Lux, but it was a clever lie that covered our bases in case Bael was lurking about or this mind-eater was reporting back to the emperor.

  ‘Oh yes,’ it replied. ‘What of it?’

  ‘Well, you promised the Grigori that if we left this universe we would do so together,’ Sammael continued. ‘So where is Araqiel?’

  ‘I told you.’ It stood to confront Sammael, and he took a step back and held his breath, appearing not fearful but repulsed. ‘Araqiel is no longer a factor in this mission! The emperor has decided to keep him as collateral. The matter is out of my hands, so drop it!’

  ‘But, Commander —’ Sammael pushed his luck and it moved to belt him, as it had Bael.

  ‘Don’t you dare!’ I commanded the beast within my body, and it refrained. ‘No more questions.’ It seethed in warning.

  ‘As you wish.’ Sammael, having found his answers, backed up and headed out the doors to find Armaros.

  ‘You agree,’ the scribe assumed, seeing the look of loathing and concern on Sammael’s face as he approached.

  ‘Inside,’ the warrior uttered as he passed Armaros and headed into the spacecraft being loaded for their voyage.

  ‘I’ll take that as a yes,’ he commented, as he gave pursuit.

  ‘Announce if the commander comes on board,’ Sammael instructed Penemue, who was standing by the outer hatch doors. He opened his mouth to query the request. ‘No questions, little shadow, just do it.’

  Penemue frowned curiously at Armaros in pursuit. ‘Best comply, he’s in a mood,’ Armaros advised and kept moving, until Sammael led him into the flight deck that was currently unoccupied.

  ‘He reeks of mind-eater, quite literally!’ Sammael was panicked.

  ‘Calm yourself,’ Armaros suggested, seating himself and motioning his companion to another seat. ‘Shall we meditate upon this development?’

  ‘What?’ Sammael was confused, but Armaros closed his eyes to hint at his meaning. ‘Oh.’ Sammael realised that the scholar was inviting him to a meeting in Lux. ‘Good call.’ He sat down and closed his eyes.

  This was well done, as I spied a translucent form entering the room which could only mean one thing: Bael was still spying on us.

  He would wonder at these two Grigori taking their repose, but he would not expose himself to query them. Bael would merely observe and discover nothing, for I could warn them of his presence before they returned to their forms.

  This was just the opportunity I had been waiting for, and Araqiel and I joined our brothers in the light-field.

  ‘Araqiel, Commander, you are here?’ Sammael was pleasantly surprised to see us. ‘What is going on?’

  ‘We suspect —’ Armaros began.

  ‘I know your fears,’ I placed a hand on his shoulder, to show my pride in him, ‘And unfortunately, they are completely justified.’

  ‘What?’ Sammael looked me up and down and Armaros took a step backward. ‘How can you be infected? You look perfectly fine to me?’

  ‘What happened at that meeting?’ Armaros observed Araqiel and then looked back to me for answers, which I was more than happy to supply.

  When my account of events was done, my audience was stunned speechless.

  ‘What would you have us do, Commander?’ Armaros asked, wary of the answer.

  ‘My body must be left behind,’ I concluded sadly.

  ‘No, that is not the way for you,’ Araqiel insisted. ‘The human forewarned me this would occur, but it advised that you are going to need that form for a while yet.’

  ‘You never said so?’ This was the first time he’d mentioned this to me. ‘You said I wouldn’t need that body where we were going.’

  ‘In the long term, that is true,’ Araqiel warranted, ‘but in the short term, you will.’

  ‘And yet you are prepared to leave your body behind?�
�� I thought this rather odd.

  ‘I have a different path to follow,’ he reminded me, ‘and that is really of no concern to you. For now we need to focus on preserving as much of your body as we can.’

  ‘I am not carrying that creature into the next universe!’ I insisted.

  ‘The next universe is more advanced than this one; there are ways and means unknown to us here,’ he suggested.

  ‘Are you guessing again?’ I confronted him for I needed facts not theory.

  ‘I only know what I was told by the Logos, and I trust that our divine brother is far more knowledgeable than I,’ Araqiel confessed.

  ‘I know it would cause me much remorse if we were to leave you behind in this eternal darkness to perish to a mind-eater, and then arrived in the next universe to discover that we could have saved you from that torment,’ Armaros appealed.

  ‘Do you have any idea how much damage I could cause before then?’ I reasoned. ‘The mind-eater I carry has all the information it needs to summon Samyaza into the next universe.’

  ‘Then we must ensure you do not enter the next universe in a conscious state,’ Sammael put forward.

  ‘How do you mean?’ I queried the objective. ‘Araqiel is the first of the Grigori I have ever seen sedated.’

  ‘I don’t mean sedate you,’ Sammael enlightened. ‘I mean to cryogenically freeze you — like we do humans for long voyages.’

  ‘Will that work?’ Armaros queried. ‘No one has attempted to put a Grigorian in stasis before.’

  Sammael shrugged. ‘I guess we will find out … and if it does work, we’ll just leave you frozen until such time as we find a cure for the mind-eater virus.’

  ‘A splendid plan!’ Araqiel awarded Sammael his due — it was not often he solved a problem with brain power rather than brute force. ‘But the containment must take place as soon after lift-off as possible. You must not enter the gate until the virus has been subdued.’

  ‘That could be easier said than done,’ Armaros warned, ‘as our commander is rather unaccommodating at present. No offence.’

  ‘None taken,’ I granted, sorry for the predicament I was leaving them in. ‘But I am not without some influence over my body, so I shall aid you to trap me as much as I am able.’

  ‘I too may know of something that may help you in this, but I’ll need your assistance, Armaros,’ Araqiel propositioned the scholar.

  ‘Anything I can do, just ask,’ he assured.

  ‘Best we keep it between you and me —’ my counsel eyed me over ‘— for we do not know how much of a conscious connection our mind-eater friend has with our commander.’

  ‘You don’t think it could be perceiving us now, do you?’ Sammael was on guard.

  ‘This state of consciousness would be way beyond its vibrational frequency,’ he explained to the warrior, who only appeared more perplexed. ‘But as to how much it perceives from Azazèl on a regular mental level, I can’t say. So, better to be safe than sorry.’

  I nodded to concur with his reasoning.

  ‘And what of your body, Araqiel?’ Sammael queried. ‘I’ll be more than happy to go snatch it back from your captors, just say the word.’

  ‘It is just a vessel and this soul will find another,’ he advised. ‘We don’t want to alert the other fallen to our scheme, or give them any reason to oppose our exit from this universe. Best let Samyaza have my body, if that makes him feel more secure in our deal.’

  ‘But do you not fear his torture and retribution once he realises his plan has failed?’ Armaros appealed for him to reconsider.

  ‘Not at all,’ he assured the scribe. ‘For once my soul passes through that gate I will be severed from that body forever more.’

  ‘Then let’s do this thing!’ Sammael was inspired now.

  ‘Indeed,’ I seconded the motion. ‘But watch your backs as Bael is snooping around and probably will be until we take off. No one must get wise to our intentions before we depart from Tartarus.’

  All present gave a firm nod of acknowledgement.

  Before the Grigori were due to depart, Azazèl was summoned to a meeting with the emperor. As Araqiel and I followed my diseased form into the imperial chamber to ensure my last face-to-face with Samyaza went according to plan, my spiritual companion seemed to be having more difficulty keeping pace with me than usual, for he was leaning heavily on his staff.

  ‘What is the matter Araqiel?’ I queried his strange laboured walk. ‘Are you feeling poorly?’ The query seemed absurd as we Grigori were never unwell.

  ‘I’ve seen better days.’ He directed my attention to one of the inner walls of the throne room.

  There was a new ornamental feature in the chamber this day and it was an affront to my sensibilities to see the body of my fellow Grigorian, still unconscious, bolted onto a large metal frame and hung on the wall — I could scarce imagine how it made the victim feel to see himself thus.

  ‘You can feel that?’ I rasped, and I felt the same pain in my chest that I had felt upon realising I had beheaded the most beautiful vision I had ever seen. This was also a far greater discomfort than the obnoxious ache I felt all through me since being exposed to the virus.

  Pain was a new sensation for us, and it was abundantly clear that the subtle pain of emotion was even more inhibitive than physical torture; but then, I had yet to rejoin my body and feel the full impact of the virus on my being.

  My companion removed one hand from his staff, to show me the hole from the bolt that went right through his hand.

  ‘I’m not going to stand by and —’

  ‘The gesture was meant to bait you. Do not be so eager to jump into the trap,’ Araqiel warned me. ‘You too are suffering, and your pain will not be so easily severed as mine. My pain is only temporary, as once we pass through the Eternity Gate I will feel it no more.’

  ‘That is why you didn’t want Sammael to rescue your form,’ I realised. ‘How long have you been like this?’

  ‘It is no matter,’ he insisted. ‘But if any of the other Grigori knew about this, we’d have a rebellion on our hands and none would escape the virus.’

  As always, his reasoning could not be argued. ‘Then leave this to me and go rest yourself.’

  He looked confused by my lack of understanding. ‘The pain is the same whether I am still or not. And you need some counsel through this trying time.’ His eyes reverted to his body on the wall. ‘Who knows what other nasty surprises Samyaza wishes to spring on you to test your readiness to fulfil his cause.’

  ‘Point taken.’ Clearly, if he had not been present to stop me, I might have sought to protest my brother’s use as a decoration. ‘I appreciate your counsel and your commitment, Araqiel.’

  ‘I appreciate that you appreciate it,’ he replied.

  I looked back to my form advancing down the long aisle towards the throne. ‘Let us get this meeting over with, and leave this infernal existence.’

  ‘Amen.’

  The emperor and my zombie self were seemingly alone in the chamber today, although I spied Bael lurking about the throne.

  Once kneeling on the insignia of the Fallen, my personage was addressed by the emperor.

  ‘Do you like our new adornment?’ He motioned his creature to it, for it had failed to look sideways upon entering.

  It glanced where instructed and then returned its dark hollowed eyes to its master. ‘What is not to like?’

  Samyaza grinned, for this response no doubt confirmed to him that his mind-eater had firm control of me. ‘Can you enlighten me as to his means of maintaining this strange unconscious state?’

  I was alarmed by the query, for I had not joined with my body and thus had not given the mind-eater access to my thoughts. ‘It must have been caused by the emperor’s new technology,’ I advised it.

  ‘I do not know,’ it replied.

  Samyaza frowned and sat forwards in his throne, concerned by the response and so was I.

  ‘Perhaps your new restraining device work
ed a little too well,’ it added to appease its master, and I was relieved not to have lost what little influence over myself I had left.

  At this point I noted Bael’s shadow form move in closer to the emperor to have a quiet word.

  Samyaza heard him out, then continued his interrogation. ‘We have observed other Grigori performing this odd practice as well … it must serve some purpose?’

  ‘It is how we sort our thoughts. We find it refreshes the body and the mind between missions,’ I advised my body and it conveyed my thoughts to Samyaza.

  ‘Why rest when you never tire?’ He found this very suspicious.

  ‘We find it pleasurable,’ it concluded on my behalf.

  Samyaza looked back to Araqiel’s unconscious form on the wall and appeared most displeased. ‘So your brother mocks my intention to make him suffer, does he? How do we wake him from his pleasurable state?’

  ‘The Grigori are awoken from their repose easily,’ I commanded my form to convey. ‘Araqiel’s current state is beyond my understanding, which is why I suggest the emperor’s new technology could be the cause.’

  It delivered the message, but this only infuriated the emperor all the more. ‘I don’t care about the cause! Get it through that Grigorian skull that unless Araqiel is conscious and in pain, none of the Grigori will set foot out of Tartarus!’

  ‘Then how am I to summon you forth into the next universe?’ The directive did not make any sense to the emotionless creature.

  ‘I shall pin ten more of your brothers to these walls to hold as hostages, Araqiel!’ he shouted out to nowhere in particular. ‘Do you hear me?’

  ‘What difference does it make when I am your humble servant?’ I suggested as a comeback. Yet there was a sinking feeling in my gut that Samyaza really did know more about the Grigori than we had ourselves, until recently. Still, the entity carrying my form was completely indifferent to Samyaza’s threat or my instruction. ‘Whatever pleases, my emperor,’ it said.

  ‘Shut up,’ I insisted, ‘you’re making this worse!’

  ‘Do not risk the mission and do not wait for me,’ Araqiel advised, and by the time I looked to him to argue his instruction, his spiritual presence was gone.