by Mark Kraver
“As you are aware, stars die throughout the galaxies on a regular basis for various reasons. When Gehenna began to collapse into a white dwarf, Armilus was called to help transplant its two habitable planets to a newer star in a different system through a Halo. One was Hell, and its sister planet was called Heaven.”
“Heaven and Hell, that’s interesting,” Yahweh thought.
“Armilus rescued the planet Heaven first. By the time he returned to transplant Hell, the habitable surface of the planet had been destroyed and almost every lifeform had perished.”
“Nuclear holocaust,” Yahweh remembered from his classes in school.
“Armilus was blamed by the Elohim for the loss of the planet’s population and was branded a pariah ever since, but I found other reasons for the planet’s demise.”
“Continue.”
“The planet’s core cooled unexpectedly,” Numen said.
“But if the molten core cools too much…”
“Precisely, the planet is no longer an effective electromagnet, and solar radiation can irradiate the planet with lethal doses of cosmic rays, causing mutations and death.”
“Why wasn’t this rectified by moving the population to another planet?”
“Throne.”
“What?”
“The Throne on Hell were genetically mutating the micro-animal population, namely the phylum Tardigrade and Arthropoda in secret. They wanted to exploit them as an easily reproducible workforce. When the population of humans decreased due to the radiation from the nearby dying star, their genetic work continued, unabated. By the time Armilus returned to Hell, most of the higher life forms, including the genus Homo had perished, leaving the indestructible macro alphabiotic animals on the planet’s surface.”
“Frankenstein’s monsters,” Yahweh said, recalling a story from old Earth’s fictional history.
“Yes, Mary Wollstonecraft Shelley. You would have liked her. Her creation, Frankenstein, was made from parts and pieces of one species. Alphabiotic Signatures were made from several cross-phylum genomes, so ‘zenostein monsters’ would be more applicable.”
“You knew her?”
Numen nodded. “She had the right genome. She was a primitive telepath like Dr. Logan. She was a candidate at the time to become a prophetess, if the timing for the genesis had become right, of course”
“Numen, you never cease to amaze. Whatever happened to all the Throne in the green universe?”
“As a result of the Hell incident and other such Throne indiscretions not completely spelled out in the information I have access to presently, the Throne were extinguished by disassemblement from the green universe, and all references to them were lost to antiquity.”
“Very interesting. Disassemblement had been used before as punishment. Why was Armilus blamed?”
“The cooling planet core was a factor. Possibly a clerical error conveniently left out to deflate Armilus’ performance and protect Gog’s reputation as a master galactologist? Competing factions trying to disgrace or eliminate competition? It is data still sequestered in the partitioned bit-carb I am sorting out,” Numen said. “However, one thing is clear, Armilus kept working covertly on the genetic development that led to the formation of the first Alphabiotic Signature hive.”
“Keep converting the data,” Yahweh said. “I never heard of the reference to a planet Heaven before.”
“Yes, I’ve given that some thought as well. Both words, heaven and hell, have existed as antonyms throughout time. This may be the origin for their symbolism of good versus evil.”
“How do you know any of this is true and not subterfuge he has concocted?”
“I can detect no reason why it should or should not be correct. However, you are correct. Recorded information can be distorted over time.”
Yahweh glanced up and saw the others were starting to look in his and Numen’s direction, gradually taking note of their quiet conversation. “What should we do with my Throne?” Yahweh asked, smiling at Gouldian as if everything was all right.
Numen pursed his artificial lips and raised his fake eyebrows.
They walked up to the docking port observation portal and stood in front of the planet Earth cradled in graviton beams inside the giant docking ring. It was a welcomed sight after spending time on the inner surface of a sphere with the craziest-looking lifeforms they’d every observed. To their rear, legions of Throne gathered in military formation, assembled to see their new master safely off the sphere. The mirrored floor made their numbers look infinite.
Yahweh said, “Gouldian, I need some repairs to my transplantation station. A new navigational unit would be a good starting point.”
“Master, your wish is my command. I have something even better for you,” Gouldian said, with a clap of his hands and a sinister serpentine smile.
With that, gravity beams activated alongside Earth’s transplant vessel, and began pulling the station and solar emitter out of the way.
On Earth, Joop looked up into the eerie sphere’s half-walled sky and saw the life-giving red sunlight of Jerusalem’s fusion reactor fading away.
“Is this the end?” he said, as the red sky went as lightless as the dark side of the moon.
“What do you make of this?” Yahweh asked Numen telepathically with alarm. “You do not think the Throne are disobedient? They are not cutting open the planet right before my eyes?”
From the sphere’s observation deck, they watched as their planet’s life-giving station drifted away along the equatorial hemispheric slit by gravity beams. Millions of Throne advanced upon them from the rear, cutting off their escape.
“You can’t fix it where it was?” asked Reeze, unaware of their situation. Kleem showed his disapproving needle shaped fangs. Zenith took Reeze by the hand and pulled her close protectively.
“Behold,” Gouldian said, waving his arm in the direction of the planet.
A slight vibration shook the floor of the landing pad as gigantic plates opened on the side of the massive sphere’s outer hull. Huge clam shell arms advanced out of the sphere through planet-sized doors and reached for the far eastern and western sides of the sunless Earth.
“You think this will cut the planet apart?” Yahweh transmitted to Numen, not knowing what to do.
The colossal arms continued stretching out until they had settled on either side of the planet, cradling it like cold sterile hands. A dim glowing light ignited at the center of one of the clam shell shaped saucers as the fusion reactors came online, spreading sunlight like wildfire across the Earth’s surface. Soon the glare of simulated sunshine became too bright to look at.
“A laser?” Yahweh gasped out loud.
“A new, more advanced, reusable transplant vessel. Your other ship was, well, not to the standards for a Creator from Nirvana,” Gouldian said, turning to look at the multitudes of Throne gathered on the docking port behind them in endless rows for as far as the eye could see. “This will guarantee your rapid departure. Creators are always worried about being away from their hibernation pod for too long.”
Yahweh was only slightly relieved.
“This is all the Throne?” Numen asked Gouldian, gesturing to the assembled group behind them.
“It is. What is your wish, my master?” he asked Yahweh who was still looking worried.
“I am your master,” Yahweh said, holding up the ruby red Deed Crystal in the Throne’s face to help make his point.
“Yes, my master,” he said, staring expressionless upon the fiery red crystal with indifference.
“And you will do anything for me?” he asked as Su, the red seraph, landed a few meters away, whisking his wings and tail around him.
“Yes, my master,” Gouldian said, now looking at the devilish seraph with a worried look on his artificial face. “What is that doing here?”
“I asked him here,” Numen said.
“I thought I’d conduct a little experiment,” Yahweh said, tugging on his earlobe.
“Experiment, my Lor
d?”
“I would like for all the Throne to deactivate, as a token of allegiance to me,” he said, shaking the crystal in the startled Throne’s face.
“He said we would not have to deactivate,” Klack moaned.
“He said we would be rewarded if we cooperated,” groaned Kleem.
“Who is this he you are talking about?” shouted Reeze.
Each of the three tongue-bouncing Throne looked at each other for several seconds before complaining in unison, “We do not know!”
“Was it Armilus or Gog?” Numen pressed, but no one ventured an answer.
“Deactivate? For how long?” protested Gouldian shaking his head.
Yahweh paused, scanning their faces for a hint as to who was manipulating the Throne on the sphere. When it became clear he wouldn’t receive a satisfactory response, he continued. “Until I return, of course,” Yahweh said.
The three Throne gasped and looked at each other with uncontrollable tongues.
“Until I can see how the seraphim and cherubim manage this and all the other sister sphere, without you.”
“This is unnecessary, master,” Gouldian pleaded.
“I can only imagine what will happen to this place in my absence. You must deactivate, or I will—”
“Or you will what?” Gouldian said, frowning with disdain. “Elohim are so superior, Elohim are so smart.”
“We don’t need any Elohim. We’ve done admirably without your kind,” Kleem said, poking Zenith’s bald head with his finger, making her flinch.
“Elohim are as weak as sapients,” Klack said, grasping Reeze by the shoulder, ripping her away from Zenith and holding her with one arm over the edge of the observation deck. Reeze fought, slapping and biting the assaulting Throne on its arm. Everyone else froze, not wanting to provoke the nasty Throne into doing something unimaginable.
“This one is feisty. Maybe you should have left her in the zoo with the other wild animals—oops,” Klack simulated laughter while grinning artificially ear to ear, pushing Reeze off the deck into open space, her hair flashing as she thrashed down the side of the sphere wall and out of sight. “You can’t learn to fly if you don’t flap your wings.”
“NO,” shouted Zenith. For a gut-checking moment of disbelief she let out a silent, shocked voluminous gasp. She turned toward the Throne with the primitive look of motherly protection, barely able to stop herself from attack. “You red-eyed, tongue-poking, villainous monsters. You should all be destroyed!”
“Numen!” Yahweh shouted. “Retrieve Reeze immediately!”
“Your seraph has no power here,” Klack said.
“We have all the power,” Kleem said.
“We can shut off seraphim anytime we wish,” the three Throne said in unison. Gouldian pushed one of the red keys on his right hand, causing Numen and Su to freeze in place before they could attempt a rescue.
“Now what to do with these two troublemakers?” Gouldian asked, looking at Yahweh and Zenith with a demonic smile.
“I bet you were so happy thinking you had inherited all of this at such as young age,” said Kleem, spinning and waving his hands over his horned head.
“And on your first mission,” Klack said, finishing the sentence.
“It won’t be hard to eradicate worthless Elohim, again. We rid this sphere—and all the spheres throughout this universe—of your pesky race once before when there were more than two of you,” Gouldian said, causing the other two Throne to synthesize laughter.
“How did you do it? Did you kill them?” Yahweh asked.
“Once we shut off their companions—”
“The coordinated conspiracy across Magog’s realm was all done in less than a circadia—”
“They never knew what hit them—”
“So to speak,” the three Throne finished in turn, circling around the two defenseless Elohim.
“Ghostly singularity,” Yahweh gasped, feeling sickened at the thought of every Elohim being executed in the whole universe by these Throne.
“Would you like me to pop your skull with my fingers,” Kleem sneered, “or do you want a little push into the void below?”
“Your choice. Or do you want to jump like your pet sapient, Reeze?” Klack asked, reaching as if to push Yahweh and Zenith off the side of the docking bay.
“She didn’t jump, you pushed her. Anyway, I prefer to fight,” Yahweh said, with a wink to Zenith who was oblivious to his strategy.
“This will be interesting. He doesn’t know what time it is,” Kleem said, moving forward to assault them both at the same time. “It is time to—” Kleem felt a hand on his shoulder that flung him around to look straight into the eyes of Numen’s face.
“It’s time for you to die,” Numen said, finishing the thought.
Surprised, Gouldian began punching out keys in the palm of his hand to no avail.
“I believe it has something to do with his primitive programming,” Yahweh said, winking. “There must be a slight difference between seraphim in your universe and those in mine,” he said, addressing the startled Throne.
“Nothing to it, really. It was as elemental as E=mc2. I just turned off a few bells and whistles, and took away your backdoor key,” Numen said, as millions of seraphim and cherubim descended over the legions of Throne lined up on the planetary docking bay behind them.
Klack growled, fanning out his cobra neck, and hissed as Gouldian cowered at the sight of so many adversaries.
“Oh, and I’d hate it if something went wrong with my transplantation and I could not return. Then you will stay deactivated forever or jettisoned into a nearby star as waste products or disassembled as spare parts. I hear there is a great need for new raw materials here on the sphere,” Yahweh said, with a wink and a nod to Su. Oscar the cherub appeared, carrying Reeze back onto the observation deck, followed closely by Melvin, Theodore and Bullet—all riled-up, snarling babies ready to fight to the death. As soon as Oscar set Reeze gently on the mirrored flooring, she and Zenith ran to one another and embraced.
“Deactivate or—” Yahweh delivered his ultimatum.
Gouldian looked up at all the menacing seraphim and realized he was out of options. He bowed his head and touched several red glowing keys on his palm. Looking up at Yahweh, he said, “Your wish is our command.”
Row after row of Throne bowed their heads and ceased functioning. A few tried to break ranks and fled for gravity bubbles, only to be rounded up by agitated snarling red cherubim.
Reeze walked up to the deactivated Throne trio and stared into their eyes, trying to detect the slightest movement. When she was satisfied they were non-functional, she slapped Gouldian in the face, kicked Kleem between the legs, and punched Klack in the eye.
“Primitives,” Yahweh commented on her behavior, shaking his head. “Sorry about the mess,” he said, with a winking smile and tug on his earlobe to Su, who was busy tapping red keys in the palm of his hand and looking relieved that the situation hadn’t ended with sphere-wide war.
“The cherubim are verifying each Throne is deactivated,” Su said. “We have other docking ports on Nirvana, much larger than this one. No one will miss the Throne—in a good way. They can be reprogrammed or disassembled for spare parts. What is your wish, my master?”
Reeze smiled, rubbing her bruised fist.
“Feel better?” Zenith asked.
“Yeah, you should try it.”
“I am satisfied to know you are well, and we have our planet back,” she said, with a guilty look on her face. She would have loved to have struck the Throne, at least once.
“Leave them here,” Yahweh said. “Erasing their programming would be a waste of energy. They may be useful in the future. Who knows?”
Su nodded and continued his report. “One hundred forty-three thousand, nine hundred, ninety-eight living Elohim, one dead, and three hibernation pods—two occupied and a large contingency of cherubim have been transported to your new transplant station. The seraph Ba has been reactivate
d. I am afraid there are no such provisions for the complement of flora and fauna onboard the new ship. What do you want to do with them?”
“Hmm. I’m sure habitat can be appropriated for their care here on this sphere,” Yahweh said.
“Of course. The population will welcome the new additions. However, the massive sea creatures may feel more at home on the water world sphere of Alpha Nirvana...one moment,” Su said distracted. “A malfunction in the navigational system that would have had catastrophic effect if it was not found before entering the Halo has now been repaired.”
“Throne. What are we to do with them?” Yahweh said, shaking his head.
“I’ve got plenty of ideas,” Reeze said.
“I bet you do, little one. I bet you do,” he said, winking at Zenith and walking toward the gravilator tubing leading to their new transplant ship. “What will we call our new ship?”
“I know,” said Reeze. “New Jerusalem.”
“I think that will be easy to remember,” Zenith said, guiding her spunky niece and their feisty cherubim into the tube.
Peace radiated throughout the connectome:
“Astonishing. On your first mission you had become a Creator in two different universes. Again, inconceivable,” Nadira congratulated her master for a job well done.
“And now you return triumphantly home to Helios,” Lanochee concluded, holding onto Nadira and smiled with satisfaction.
“Without the courage to venture, you will never know your accomplishments,” Yahweh said.
Chapter 82
Life is like riding a bicycle. To keep your balance, you must keep moving.
Albert Einstein, 1879-1955, Earth
Library of Souls
New Jerusalem
After traveling through the twisting-winding gravilator to New Jerusalem, they entered their new station’s docking bay. It was a simple large room, black glass walls, domed lit ceiling, and a spongy floor that made their tired feet feel good.
“I wonder how we get to the bridge?” Zenith asked.
