Uriel never stood a chance of evading the RIM-156 missiles that were streaking down upon him from above. They had tipped over at 150,000 feet and were now heading down in a Mach 6 dive . Their radar sets were fully active and they had locked on to the figure below them. They didn’t need designation any more, They had Uriel in their sights and they were going to blow him up. Uriel barely had a chance to register their presence before they exploded around him.
The only thing that saved Uriel’s life was that the missiles had proximity fuzes. He was a big angel and the computers in the fuzes calculated distances based on that. He also had a large radar image and that increased the distance away from him that the missiles detonated. Finally, he was slow, and the RIM-156 was designed to handle supersonic and hypersonic targets. The fuze simply wasn’t programmed for a target that moved at Uriel’s speed. None of those factors would have saved Uriel on their own, but put together, they just about made the difference between a living angel and a dead one.
Uriel screamed as the tungsten carbide fragments slashed into his body. They ripped into his skin, splattering silver blood into the air, tore at his wings, shredding the flying surfaces and cracking the bones open. His vision suddenly shrank as fragments tore out one of his eyes and scoured across his body. He staggered in the air, hurt worse than had ever happened to him before. Not even in the Great Celestial War had he taken punishment like this. He started to drop, frantically beating the sky with his injured wings in an effort to avoid plummeting to the ground. He knew that his attack on the people below had ended, that those that had not died would live. He had used too much of his strength, he was too badly injured to start the assault again. He would have to escape, retreat to heaven and heal his wounds. Above all, he would have to speak with his friend Michael-Lan who knew humans better than any other angel. Michael-Lan would help him, Michael-Lan would give him wise counsel. He desperately tried to form the portal that would allow him to escape but something disrupted his efforts. The air itself seemed to be crackling round him, swamping his efforts to open an escape route.
That was when something happened that was far beyond his comprehension. He was used to the burning pain of the humans, used to it inflaming and irritating his skin but what happened next was truly horrifying. The pain suddenly soared up, far beyond anything he had experienced to date. He looked down and to his horror saw the skin on his chest and side was burning. Then, he realized, that was wrong, he wasn’t burning, he was being roasted alive in mid-air. His skin was bubbling and peeling, the flesh beneath it turning brown, the fat running down his body as it melted. Uriel screamed and twisted, howling in demented agony, knowing that with this weapon, whatever it was, humans had finally far surpassed the late and unlamented Satan in the ability to create sheer, undiluted horror. Uriel lost his battle to stay airborne and fell out of the sky.
USS Normandy, CG-60, Off San Diego, California, Earth
“We got him!” Serafina’s triumphant cheer swept through the Pit, bringing the AAW crew to their feet, howling with delight. “All four 156s, they went off all around him. He’s toast!” The Pit descended into a chaos of backslapping and high-fives.
“Can we confirm that?” Pelranius was loath to put a damper on the celebrations but he had done a tour in Hell and he knew how hard these Netherworld creatures were to kill. If the stories were true, Uriel was one of the top-ranking Archangels in Heaven. If they were anything like as tough as the Archdukes... Asmodeus had been blown up by a ton of C4, his head riddled with bullets from a .50 rifle and he had still needed a salvo of AT-4 anti-tank rockets to finish him. Beelzebub, hit by two Mavericks and riddled with 30mm fire from two Warthogs, Deumos, her brains scrambled and her body fried by rocket exhausts, Satan himself, two massive shaped charges to the chest and head. Uriel was in that league and Pelranius really doubted if four RIM-156s would be enough to do the job.
“Damn, no!” The cry of disappointment was heart-felt. “He’s still flying. Designating with SPY-1 now.”
Serafina flipped the designation beam she had formed up to maximum power, sub-consciously noting the rumbling turbines below her, and locked it in on Uriel. Almost immediately the creature started to writhe in mid-air then lost control of itself and started to fall. The pencil-beam tracked him down to where the ridgeline provided a radar horizon with dead ground beyond it. Serafina thumped in the control inputs and four RIM-174s exploded from the aft launch silo, heading out for the location Uriel was heading into. They were faster and longer-ranged than the RIM-156s and their terminal radar homing was optimized to pick up and track low-flying targets in highly-cluttered backgrounds. As Uriel fell, the SPY-1 beam tracked him down. On the way, it intercepted some power lines stretched along the ridge and destroyed them in a spectacular display of electrical flashes and the showering cascade caused by melting wire and blown insulators.
Home of Caroline Howarth, Eucalyptus Hills, California.
It was gone, it was over. She and Rex had survived. The blackness had vanished with the rolling thunder of the explosions overhead. They had to be missiles, just had to be. Either the Army or the Navy had come to the rescue and driven Uriel away. Air was flowing into her lungs again, without the dreadful effort to suck it in and force it out. She could sense blood flowing through her arteries and veins, bringing oxygen and life back to her body. Slowly, shakily, she got up, her legs reluctant to support her, and looked around her room. Then, she lost her balance and fell as there were another series of explosions from north of the township. They shook the floor, sending dust falling from the ceiling. A moment later there was a screaming noise that she guessed was the sound of the inbound missiles.
She turned around, fearing that Rex hadn’t made it, but the dog was stretched out on the floor, panting for air. Alive. She took a closer look, there was blood around his muzzle but he seemed to be all right. Then she looked closer, some of the brown and black hairs had turned gray. She stood up and went over to the silver foil that lined the walls. It wasn’t a good mirror but she could see there were thin lines, crow’s feet, around her eyes and mouth that hadn’t been there before and the luster of her black hair had dulled and been tinged with gray.
She was alive, and it seemed that the scars of the battle were a small price to pay for that. She decided what she did need was a cup of tea. “Hey, Rex, you want a nice steak?” He deserved a treat.
Rex thought about that carefully. He knew that there was a leg of lamb in the refrigerator and that was what he really wanted – and had intended to steal as soon as he could work out a way to do it. But, a steak would do just fine until his human was careless enough to leave the kitchen door open.
USS Normandy, CG-60, Off San Diego, California, Earth
“He’s down, behind the ridgeline.” Serafina was reading the displays and her fingers danced over the controls. “This is Axehorn calling all aircraft. We have Uriel down behind the ridgeline north of Eucalyptus Hills, he’s hurt bad but still living we think. All aircraft converge and search.”
“We’ve got word from the DIMO(N) net. No dropped frames so no portal formed, he’s still here.”
“Wonder why he doesn’t portal out?” Pelranius was intrigued.
“Sir, have you any idea how much energy we’re pumping out? I doubt if there’s a television left unexploded in South California. Just a guess, but I think we’re jamming him.”
“What about the aircraft closing in? Won’t they be at risk?”
“Not on surveillance mode and I’ve got the designation beams turned off. We can flip back to war mode in seconds if we need it.”
“Axehorn, this is CAP-Three- One-One I’m heading for Eucalyptus Hills now. Intend to stay below flight level ten. Please advise fast movers to stay above that.”
“Will do CAP-Three-One-One.”
There was a bleep and the special channel activated. “Axehorn, this is Habu-zero-one. I’m turning round to come back in. Require clearance on flight and speed.”
“Habu-zero-on
e, your choice, up where you are, nobody else can go.”
“Nice of you to say so Axehorn. Be advised I’ll have sideways-looking radar on. If something’s big and nasty down there I’ll spot it. What did you do to Uriel?”
“Whacked him with four RIM-156s and four 174s then fried him with a full-power designation beam.”
“Ohhh nasty. Well done Axehorn. Habu-Zero-One out.”
“Another conversation that never happened.” Pelranius spoke heavily.
“Exactly.” Serafina smiled at him and mouthed very quietly, “Aurora.”
Home of Caroline Howarth, Eucalyptus Hills, California.
Everything was out, radio, television, cellphones. Caroline Howarth had given up her landline telephone and used a cell phone for all her calls, now she bitterly regretted doing so. Her computer was down as well, and, looking out of the window she could see that Santee was blacked out. North of the town, helicopters were already searching the ridges and valleys while a light aircraft circled, hunting further out.
There was a banging at the door. Rex ran across and barked at the intruder, itching for a fight he could get his teeth into. She grabbed his collar and opened the door. A National Guard soldier was standing there, a clipboard in his hands.
“Whoa, old feller, I’m a friend. Miss Caroline Howarth?” He looked at the list, it said the registered owner of the house was 32 years old, this woman looked like a well-preserved fifty. “I’m sorry, is she your daughter?”
She shook her head. “I’m her. And Rex is four years old.” Then she saw the look on his face and it made her laugh, a laugh that turned into a cough. One that left speckles of blood on her hand. “You don’t fight the Angel of Death to a draw and walk away unscarred.”
Chapter Twenty Five
Headquarters, League of the Holy Court, Eternal City
The problem was that the investigations into these conspiracies was bogging down in a maze of low-level minions whose importance, and worst of all, knowledge of the higher ranks, was minimal. Lemuel-Lan-Michael was now convinced that there were indeed two parallel conspiracies of radically different characters and objectives. Those differences meant that there were very few points of contact between the two, it seemed as if it had been pure luck that The League had picked up one of those few contact points. Without them having done so, and without the bottle of elixir to start the investigation rolling, neither conspiracy would have been discovered. The thought of that eventuality made Lemuel's stomach clench with terror. The whole foundations of Heaven could have been threatened.
He paced backwards and forwards in his office until the panic at what might have been faded, then resumed his seat. Once more, reading the reports from the handful of trusted agents who were investigating the main cabal, the differences between it and the second one that was his own interest, stood out. It wasn't just the differences in organization although they were striking enough. It was the beliefs that seemed to be so different, or more precisely, the contrast between the overt dogma of the First Conspiracy and the seeming lack of any defining ideology in the other. In his own investigations, he had been unable to find any ideological system that defined the Second Conspiracy. It seemed that the only link that existed to unify them was their taste for human products and goods.
Lemuel shook his head and returned to the report on the First Conspiracy. He had finally managed to find a Malachim whose membership in the higher ranks of the cabal wasn't matched by the protection extended by his Lord. That Lord had been one of the angels martyred in the pouring of the First Bowl of Wrath and his demise at the hands of the Humans had left his retinue adrift without patronage. Fortunately for Lemuel and unfortunately for him, their victim hadn't found a new patron before The League had picked him up. Lemuel read the interrogation results again and tapped the scroll on his desk, he would have to take this to Michael-Lan.
Michael-Lan's Office, Temple of Righteous Ardor, Eternal City
“And so what have you come up with Lemuel?” Michael-Lan smiled in greeting as Lemuel entered his office, knelt and swept his wings forward to cover his face. “Come, there's no need for such deference, we're old comrades after all.”
“Michael-Lan, my investigators have now found out more about the cabal that concerned us.” The phraseology perturbed Michael and he waved Lemuel to continue. “We now have an insight into the thoughts and beliefs of those who form this group. They believe that the humans are being unjustly treated here in Heaven, that having earned their salvation down on Earth, they should benefit from more of the riches and pleasures of the Eternal City. They believe that the decision to close the Gates of Heaven was mistaken and that, once again, worthy humans should be allowed to take up residence here.”
“They challenge the wisdom of the One Above All?” Michael-Lan's voice shook with rage and outside the building, a roll of thunder echoed across the iridescent structure. That made Michael-Lan feel absurdly pleased with himself, he had always envied Yahweh's ability to conjure up thunderstorms at will.
“No, my Lord, even they would not dare look so high. They believe that The Nameless Lord of All has been mislead and deceived by treacherous and self-seeking advisors. They believe that if The All-Knowing Father was made aware of the injustices committed in his name, then he would drive out those advisors and remedy the results of their sinful hubris. They believe that The One Above All would appoint his son as his advisor and chamberlain to replace those advisors who betrayed his trust. My Lord Michael-Lan, it shames me to even speak the words but they name you as one of those advisors who have lead the One Above All Astray. Hence my need to come here so urgently.”
Michael-Lan nodded slowly in acknowledgement. “You have done very well indeed my old friend.” Interesting. Now who is it who wants me out? Salaphael and Azrael are both in reduced favor at this point. Either of them could have hatched this plot but the bit about Yah-Yah not being aware of these so-called injustices smacks of Salaphael. He's just dumb enough to believe all that. “And you believe that they are bringing up goods from Earth to bribe humans into becoming their supporters?”
That idea stopped Lemuel in his tracks. He honestly hadn't thought of that interpretation. He mulled it over for a few seconds then discarded it. “Michael-Lan, that would be one possibility but I believe the evidence runs against it. We have found no trace of human goods in the cabal beyond the single bottle of elixir. Nor does the ideology of the group run in favor of this suggestion. From what we have been able to assemble, they are only concerned with the practical policies here in Heaven and theological debates over salvation and the fate of the humans down on Earth. Material goods and wealth do not mean much to them. Their prime concern is prayer and worship. In that, of course, they do not represent any major change for who amongst us does not reverence the All-Seeing Father?”
Me for a start, Michael thought, and you would be surprised how many others. “So where does the supply of human goods fit into this picture? If they are not bribes to obtain the support of the humans, then what are they?”
Lemuel took a deep breath. “Michael-Lan, I believe there is a second conspiracy, one quite separate from the first. One that is deeper and more far-reaching than the first for it would change the very nature of Heaven. It would replace our devout worship of the All-Seeing Father with a hedonistic lifestyle based around luxury and indulgence. Our austere and spiritual existence would be replaced by one of excess and materialism. We would become like the humans down on Earth.
Well done Lemuel, you've got the objectives down perfectly. And has it ever occurred to you that becoming like the humans down on Earth is the only way Heaven can survive? And that with Yah-yah running things, that change will never happen? There are 750 million angels up hear in Heaven and if the humans from Earth break in and find out what ‘salvation’ really meant for the humans who were allowed to enter here, they're going to slaughter the lot of us. And mass slaughter is something humans are very good at. “A second conspiracy you say? Lemuel, ol
d friend, are you sure that your search for conspiracy is not leading you astray? Remember what the humans say ‘Look for a conspiracy and you will find it, even if it isn’t there.’ Two parallel conspiracies is a hard thing to swallow.”
“I know, Noble Leader. I felt the same thing and spent many hours in prayer and contemplation, searching my soul for the true light of belief and trying to rid myself of hubris and suspicion. I have been carrying out quiet and tactful investigations of the Second Conspiracy and, yes, it does exist. Recently we arrested Almedha, daughter of Brychan and submitted her to interrogation. Human methods of course. She confessed to her part although she knew little of what was happening other than that Ishmael was able to provide her with human spices to enliven her diet. But, what she did know was interesting for its omissions rather than its content. She made no mention of ideology of theology, made no suggestions of beliefs whether traditional or heretical. It appears that the Second Conspiracy extends to indulgence and nothing more.”
“Saint Almedha.” Michael spoke thoughtfully. “I would wish to speak with this human.” He stepped away from his desk and called out for one of his Elohim messengers. When the herald arrived, he spoke very quietly to him and then sent him on his way. “She will be brought here soon. So, my old friend, where do we go from here?”
“We have been trying to break into the Second Conspiracy from the outside but our successes have been minor. We are barely able to confirm that such a conspiracy actually exists let alone learn much about it. It is strange, its security is much tighter than that of the First Conspiracy despite the fact that it lacks internal protection by subdivision. Investigating the First Conspiracy is like tunnelling through a wall, its just a matter of removing brick by brick. But the Second Conspiracy is like trying to grasp hold of smoke, every handful turns to nothing and slips away. We can get nowhere from outside.”
The Salvation War 2: Pantheocide Page 24
