Lilith: Eden's Planetary Princess (The Michael Archives Book 1)

by Robinson, C. E.

  Considering how many supply ships departed Elysium every hour, she did not have time to assemble a team to meet her at the hangar. She had no idea who or how many individuals were behind the door she sprinted toward; regardless, she slung all her weight against it.

  The five guards in the room jumped when the door exploded. Rozner threw darts and shurikens, severing tendons and freezing knees and elbows in place. Then, she delivered five precise knockout punches.

  A dozen female Angels were about to be stuffed in boxes labeled as supplies. The lids were not yet fastened to the tops. Apparently, the guards were satisfying last minute urges before securing their shipments, destined for any number of unsavory purposes, probably to be sold to the highest bidder from Eden’s Overlord families.

  By the time Rickey, Major General Sade Heinrich, and Doctor Mangler arrived, the five were stripped naked and chained to a cold stonewall. A spiked toroidal ring around their necks would guarantee a quick debriefing.

  “Oh Shorinam,” Shorinam said to himself as he surveyed the amazing things laid out on the long row of tables. “How fantastic all this is. That clever pigeon has given my God a great gift indeed.”

  Shorinam was surprised when his God invited him to join them downstairs. Keeping a polite distance from Lord Smigyl and the others, he quietly wandered around the large room, gazing at the strange components in front of him, wondering what function they had, wondering if it were sutras that held all the parts together. He glanced through the large plate-glass windows in the duty officer’s private office where he saw something remarkable, just sitting on the desk.

  Oh Shorinam. Is it possible? Is this the famous red-button my God was so concerned about? Shorinam glanced around to see if anyone was watching as he slipped through the doorway. He crouched below the bottom of the window as he cautiously approached the small mechanism with wires hanging out of one end and a covered red button attached to the other end. He popped his head up, and like the sly pickpocket he was, he snagged the device and slid it into one of his large pockets.

  There it is. It’s mine now, he thought. He slipped out of the office and continued his survey of the other objects lying on the tables. He strolled along with one hand in his large pocket, fingering his new acquisition.

  Now you have done it. How proud we are of ourselves. Now you have taken the bold leap to protect your God. His nimble fingers soon figured out how to flip over the button’s protective cover. He slid his fingertip across the button’s smooth surface, trying to feel its redness, desperate to push it, almost losing self-control in his quest to determine its function.

  Oh Shorinam. Not yet you silly fellow. My God is still too near. Wait until Lord Smigyl is safely away. Then we will push this button and discover its purpose.

  Part Two

  Chapter 37

  Pegasus’ Vacation

  When you awaken after a Material life and realize you have ascended into a realm filled with Angels who love you, you have nothing to fear. If you ascend and find yourself surrounded by Angels who hate you, then fear is the least of your problems.

  —Rabii Shareon Hadraniel

  The Resurrection Halls of Carolina Isle

  Mansion II Celestial Sphere in low orthogonal orbit around Eden’s Solar Orb, Pollux

  Pegasus blew a kiss to Kristeena Urim, the captain of the small supply ship that had delivered her from Outpost Okinawa to Carolina Isle. She leaned down, picked up her small bag, and trotted toward the other side of the port.

  Before boarding the transport ship, she retrieved her travel mask, goggles, and gloves, quickly put them on, and pulled her hood over her head. The only thing visible was her mask and goggles.

  Thousands of Angels skipped toward the transport ships. They were all getting a much-needed break from Eden. Most were on their way to Oceania or some other vacation sphere to recover. Some were traveling out of Satania to somewhere nicer, more pleasant, happier. The few who were on their way to Salvington and then on to Havona to visit El Elyon wore the biggest grins of all.

  Standing among so many Angels at one time was overwhelming. It was so lovely and harmonious that many within the Angelic choirs preferred this experience to being in the presence of The Thrones themselves. Having the simultaneous attention of a Mother Spirit/Michael Son pair was quite remarkable, but this was even better.

  As Pegasus moved among them, the crowd of Angels became increasingly compressed as they neared the gangplanks; regardless, there was no pushing or shoving.

  Pegasus noticed a few dozen individuals dressed just like her, obviously wanting to avoid attention, too.

  Pegasus flowed with the crowd up to the higher decks on The Golden Hind. She found a spot at the handrail where she could see the crowd on the dock below. It was noisy, but a noise that was no longer as overwhelming as it had been down on the dock. Although the crowd was thinning, Pegasus could still hear the exuberant sound of thousands of Angelic voices excitedly calling out each other’s name, and then immediately grabbing each other, and kissing a long wonderful sweet moist kiss.

  A kiss bestowed upon an Angel from an Angel was an experience like none other — loving lips pressed against loving lips — sharing each other’s mouths — sharing each other’s breath — the lips — the mouth — each kiss professing, ‘You are my nourishment, I am your nourishment — You are my love, I am your love — You are my life’s breath, I am your life’s breath’.

  Tears flowed down Pegasus’ face. The affections of thousands filled the air — love — joy — passion — raining down upon all who could hear, upon all who could feel.

  How perfectly opposite of the Overlords, Pegasus mused. I wonder what Smigyl would experience standing here?

  Pegasus turned back to the docks in time to see the gangplanks withdrawn. The ships had started to move silently away, headed for the open Celestial Seas of the Rakta.

  Now that The Golden Hind had left the docks, Pegasus ceased to worry about being a disruptive influence. Unlike the Angels on the crowded dock, most aboard this ship were at least mature Seraphim. Moreover, every traveler had Oceania as his or her destination, so there was no use in keeping her identity hidden. Quite likely, she would run into many of her fellow travelers while on Oceania.

  She pushed her hood back and removed her goggles and mask, stuffing them in her pockets. She took off her cloak, gave it a quick fold, and then put on her blue jacket.

  “Peg.” Right in front of her was an Angel with bright blue eyes, a beautiful light-golden tan-colored face, and long locks of golden hair.

  “Britt,” Pegasus exclaimed. And just like she had seen at the docks, they were holding each other tightly with their lips locked together. All thoughts of Smigyl and his ilk instantly evaporated.

  “Have you been assigned to Eden?” Brittney asked enthusiastically.

  At that moment, the exuberant chatter around her stopped. Pegasus saw a sea of smiling faces giving her subtle nods of recognition. After a few seconds, most turned back to their friends to avoid appearing intrusive or rude.

  She recognized some twenty sets of familiar eyes. She acknowledged them with a simple gesture — a lightly closed fist against her breast. As she moved her hand away from her heart, she uncoiled her fist, opening her palm, extending, stretching, until her four fingers and her thumb were gesturing toward the heart of the friend she acknowledged. The gesture contained a simple message: ‘You touch my heart; I offer my heart to you’.

  She touched her chest again and again, offering her heart to all. Some came over and exchanged a physical embrace and a few brief words.

  Pegasus turned her attention back to Brittney. They walked together in silence, tightly holding each other’s hands, watching attendants scurry enthusiastically from Angel to Angel, asking if they needed a beverage, a light snack, or a pillow and blanket. If the attendant perceived pain, they would ask if the Angel needed a physician. Attendants learned to walk the fine line between helpful and pest.

  As often happened
, the first shocks of Truth after a physical incarnation started to hit. The illusions created in an Overlord’s Material realm were real, so when the Truth of the Celestial hit, it often came as a shock.

  ‘What do you mean, I’m an Angel?’ was usually an Angel’s first ‘aha’ moment.

  And it always came as a surprise.

  “What? I’m an Angel? Satan’s Cardinals said I was a heretic, a sinner because I didn’t worship him properly. That I fell far short of his expectations and was therefore forever damned.”

  “I’m an Angel? But Lakshmi’s priests said I was a throwaway creature, eternally cursed because I had not been born into the Pharisee caste.”

  “I’m an Angel? But Indra’s Popes said I would be forever trapped within the Underworld because I committed suicide.”

  “I’m an Angel? But Rahu’s Brahmans said that I would be forever bound to the circle of reincarnation until I gained enlightenment.”

  And on it went until they shook off the deceptive stories they were told while blinded in the Material world of Eden, their memories tricked by their Nakshatric Blanket’s programming. Nakshatric Blanket programming enhanced some aspects of Personality while repressing other aspects, creating an imbalanced individual. This was usually the only way an Angel could effectively infiltrate the Overlords.

  Indeed, for The Sisters of Mercy and the Corps of Valkyrie, never was there a time when they had turned away from their beloved King Joshua. Never was there a time when they had renounced the Infinite Spirit or the Universal Father. They had never lost their Spiritual Baptisms. Iniquity had not driven away their Thought Adjuster, the Spirit of the Living God that dwelled within. For to lose one’s Thought Adjuster caused a rupture within the Soul, the same thing as intentionally rejecting El Elyon Himself, something an Angel would never do.

  However, an Angel’s perception usually became warped after spending their entire Material life, or worse yet, a series of Material lives in a spiritually contaminated world like Eden. On these worlds, it was not the sins of the Angels that would receive ultimate judgment. It was the sins of the Overlords’ high priests who would be judged because of their lust for power.

  These condemnations, these assertions, that Angels required the approval of Cardinals, Pharisees, Popes, or Brahmans, were the ultimate lies told over and over again by their high priests. They were the ultimate lies designed to gain obedience, to gain domination, to gain entrapment.

  It took time and sometimes a lot of therapy to shake off these cruel residues and allow the intellect to move from the concept of being eternally damned, to understanding that they were already Angels. Never was there a time when real salvation was in question. And never would there be a time when they needed the type of salvation the Overlords were selling.

  “Let’s sit here,” Brittney said as she gestured toward two empty seats shielded from the wind.

  Pegasus was about to suggest they keep walking when she noticed Brittney had a limp. She took her seat and secretively scanned Brittney’s body. Through her thin clothing, she saw there was a bandage over each breast, a bandage at her crotch, and larger bandages where her wing buds should have been.

  After she sat, Brittney let go of Pegasus’ hand, opened her legs, and adjusted the bandage. Pegasus smelled blood. “So, Britt, where was your last assignment?” It was a common, unassuming question that allowed Pegasus to open the door for Brittney to tell her about the wounds, while at the same time not sounding too nosy.

  “Northern Venom,” Brittney replied. On the surface, Brittney’s voice sounded calm. But Pegasus had known Brittney for a long time. She could hear agony buried under her calm exterior.

  “Oh no,” Pegasus replied quietly. “Were you captured?”

  Brittney nodded her head.

  A Steward approached them and bowed politely. “May I be of service? Would you care for a beverage or perhaps a light snack?” He looked first to Brittney and then to Pegasus. He recognized Pegasus immediately, which caused him to suck in his breath and gently lurch back. He recovered quickly, and shifted his attention back to Brittney.

  “Yes, please,” Brittney replied without looking up. “Some hot tea and maybe some fruit.” The Steward smiled. “Of course.” Then he shifted his attention back to Pegasus, maintaining the same smile.

  “Yes, some iced tea. And fruit would be lovely.”

  “Of course,” the Steward replied in exactly the same manner.

  Pegasus gazed across the Celestial Ocean, enjoying the view before they would transit up through the higher harmonics of the Rakta, through the lower harmonics of the Mamsa, until they reached the rich turquoise of the Mamsa’s Mansion World III space, which would speed them to Oceania. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Brittney wince in pain as she adjusted her bandage again.

  “I’m sorry to intrude Britt, but I just have to ask. What did they do to you?”

  Brittney took a deep breath and let it out slowly, looking down at the smooth hardwood deck. Before Brittney could respond, the Steward returned with hot tea, fruit, biscuits, and a large glass of iced tea for Pegasus. “Will you hold these please?” he asked Pegasus, handing her the tray.

  She took the tray and again caught the smell of blood. Moreover, the smell was laced with another scent, one that was especially repulsive.

  The Steward turned back to Brittney. “Ma’am. Are you injured? Do you need to see a physician?”

  “No, I’m fine,” she replied calmly. “The tea will be enough.”

  The Steward reached into a satchel strapped around his waist and produced a small container. He opened it and shook out a capsule. “Here,” he said as he gently took her hand. He dropped the capsule in her palm and held a glass of water in front of her. “This will help.”

  She swallowed the capsule without complaint and the Steward vanished.

  “Have you heard that Lord Smi…,” Brittney caught herself. She bit into a biscuit and took a sip of tea.

  Pegasus knew Brittney held high-level security clearances. “Yeah, I know all about Smigyl’s visit to Elys…”

  “How do you know?” Brittney interrupted.

  “I was the pilot that brought him to Elysium from Jerusem,” Pegasus whispered. “And I will be the one who takes him on to Salvington.”

  “Sure, of course,” Brittney said before sipping her hot tea.

  “There was a banquet for Smigyl wasn’t there?” Pegasus asked. “They were sacrificing Angels in his honor, weren’t they? Is that how you got these wounds?”

  Brittney nodded.

  Pegasus had heard about these banquets. She knew about Angel Crisps and other such ‘delicacies’ prepared for the Overlords and their supporters.

  “Let me guess. Chef Vohu Manah,” she finally said.

  Brittney produced a tired smile. “He told me I should be honored to have my genitalia chopped off and served to his good friend Guru Patanjali.”

  “Oh yeah, I bet he did,” Pegasus said sarcastically as she stared angrily at the last glimpses of the Celestial Ocean as they quickly rose into the higher harmonics.

  Brittney took another sip of tea. “You’re going to have to let that go,” Brittney said. Pegasus looked back but said nothing.

  Brittney continued in a whisper. “You were told to bring Smigyl to Elysium, and then take him to Salvington, right?” Pegasus just nodded. Brittney continued softly. “It isn’t your fault. You didn’t make Indra throw Smigyl a party. You didn’t make Chef Vohu Manah hack apart Angels. They did that all by themselves.”

  Brittney took Pegasus’ hand and squeezed it tightly. “You’re not responsible for what they did to me and the other Angels. Don’t give it another thought. All right?”

  They sat holding each other’s hand, silently eating as they watched the swirls of the energy circuits through the clear glass windows. And then, just a moment after finishing their drinks, the Steward reappeared. “Ma’am, it’s time,” he said as he knelt in front of Brittney.

  “You know, I re
ally don’t want…”

  He took her other hand into his and held it gently. “Come now Brittney, my sweet love. We have to stay on top of this.” He gently scooped her up in his arms before she could protest. He looked back at Pegasus. “You come too.”

  Another Steward was holding the elevator door for them. They stepped in and a few seconds later they entered the hospital complex on the lower decks where they were directed to a private treatment room. The steward delicately laid her down on the bed as if she were the most precious of creatures.

  “You’re James, aren’t you?” she asked after studying his face.

  “Yes,” he replied as he squeezed her hand.

  “And you were Collin’s son when I was married to David.”

  “That’s right.”

  “How long ago was that?”

  “About 166 Mansion World One years.”

  Brittney turned slightly to Pegasus and explained. “Peg. When I incarnated into Azakaman, David was my husband and James was my eldest son. Both of them were so good to me. They came to my rescue at one of the lowest points I’ve ever had in a lifetime.”

  Brittney looked back to James. “But you weren’t in Northern Venom were you?”

  “Oh no,” James said as he gently kissed her hand, and then held it tightly against his forehead. “You gave me permission to incarnate among the Brethren, but not into any battle zones.”

  She continued to look at James while addressing Pegasus. An admiring smile came to her face. “James is one of my most prized students.”

  James had been so deeply worried as he and millions of others watched the fall of Northern Venom. At hearing her kind words, he could no longer hold back his tears.

  Hurried words came from the other side of the door. Seconds later, Dr. Aliee Avarzian briskly walked in, still giving one of her nurses instructions.