by Elana Brooks
Noh drifted closer to the Seraph. “Your people caused the storm?”
It ducked his head, its first set of fins fluttering to hide its eyes. “To my great shame, I must admit it is true.”
Noh shook his head. “Why? Has God judged us unworthy indeed and repented his creation?”
“No!” The Seraph darted its head from under its fins, eyes burning into Noh’s. “It is we who are unworthy. We slaughter thinking beings so that we may claim your world for our own and remake it for our use. God should punish my people, not yours.”
Noh nodded slowly. “Will you tell me, friend, of your people’s journey to this world and your purpose here? We have much time closed in this dark space, and little work to keep hands and minds busy.”
The Seraph’s long, snakelike coils undulated. He inclined his head. “Yes, I will tell you the tale. And more, I will show you. Listen and watch.”
In Noh’s mind, and thus in Beverly’s, a vision appeared. A huge shining blue globe, which Beverly recognized as the view of a planet from space, although surely Noh could have had no such concept. The planet appeared to have even more water and less land than Earth. Only a few green and brown dots speckled the reaches of blue beneath swirls of wispy white clouds.
“My people’s home. We dwell not on land, as you and your people do, but in the seas. Vast multitudes of my people once inhabited every corner of the ocean, filling the depths with life and beauty and wisdom.”
The view changed. Beverly saw an enormous underwater city, a network of spires and domes and arching pathways. It teemed with life. Seraphim swarmed around and within every structure, swimming with powerful strokes of their long flat tails, steering with twists of their fins. Periodically they thrust their snouts into bubbles of air trapped within shining nets, breathed for a moment, then darted away. Beverly saw much evidence of technology. Vehicles powered through the water, carrying Seraphim far faster than they could swim. Lights glowed everywhere, emitted by globes and strands and broad flat panels. A machine towered to the surface, drawing down air bubbles and transferring them to a network of conveyors that traveled to every corner of the city.
The view shifted again, showing the surface of the ocean. A floating platform carpeted the waves, with astral Seraphim hovering above. In the center a huge round structure took shape, great metal panels drifting into place untouched by any visible support, shepherded by groups of astral Seraphim.
“With our ocean full, we desired new oceans to fill. We looked to the heavens and determined to seek new worlds there. We began to build great crafts to sail the vast distances. Even the nearest worlds could be reached only after a journey of many lifetimes, so we built chambers where our bodies could slumber without aging while our spirits tended the craft’s needs.
“Smaller craft were built as well, to go ahead and prepare the new worlds to receive us. I was chosen to serve on one such craft.
“Our wise ones searched the heavens and chose a few among the great number of worlds which seemed most promising as new homes. The small ships, including mine, set out to seek them and report back on their suitability. The first of the great colony ships was readied to sail. Millions of my people prepared to slumber within, eager to awake in a new home.
“While my small ship was yet close to home, disaster fell from the sky. Our wise ones predicted the coming of the flame only a short time before it struck. My people poured into the colony ship, many millions, yet only a tiny fragment of our numbers. The ship rose from the waters a breath ahead of destruction.”
The Seraph’s head and fins drooped, and its clicking voice slowed with sorrow. “I watched my home perish in a rain of fire.”
Beverly swallowed as she saw what the Seraph had witnessed. Its astral form hovering in space, the Seraph looked back at its solar system. The planet’s sun swelled like a inflating balloon, then burst, releasing a wave of brilliantly glowing matter. The wave swept outward, consuming everything in its path. The blue planet shone like a bright jewel as the wave approached and swallowed it. After it passed, only a blackened cinder remained.
“We who survived knew our few ships were all that remained of our great and wise and powerful people. We vowed to find a world where we could begin anew. The maps our wise ones had given us showed nearly a hundred worlds which might be suitable. We knew ways to change a world which was close to our need so it would be sufficiently hospitable. All the small ships journeyed in the direction which held the most potential homes, each bound for a different world. The colony ship followed, ready to change course and travel to the one which proved best.
“After many, many lifetimes, our ship reached your world.” Beverly saw Earth shining through a viewport. “Our devices indicated that it was nearly perfect for our needs. Your air was right for our breath. Your waters were vast and untouched. Only an excess of salt made them less than habitable. As adults we could tolerate it, but our young are more delicate, and your waters would slay them long before they came to awareness. So my companions and I began our assigned task. We set about changing your world to more closely resemble our own. Many great chunks of ice travel the heavens in this vicinity. One by one we trapped them and changed their courses. We set them on paths that would carry them into your sky so that they might melt and shower their fresh water into your oceans, sweetening them until they met our need.”
Beverly caught a series of brief flashing glimpses. Against a background of stars floated a dirty white cratered lump, which she guessed must be the nucleus of a comet. Two dozen astral Seraphim gathered around it, fixing it with their gazes. The comet began to tumble ponderously. Within the ship, a screen displayed a diagram of ovals and circles—orbits. One of the ovals bent at the point a dot traveled along it, its path shifting to intersect a blue disk moving along a circle.
“We drew near your world again, watching the balls of ice, nudging them into place when they veered off track. Our work was rarely needed and accomplished swiftly, so we took turns traveling in spirit to our new home, observing all its wonders, charting where beneath the waters we might build our first cities. I loved this work and volunteered often to undertake it.
“One day, as I ventured into shallow waters near the coast of a large land mass, I observed something most strange. A craft floated on the surface of the water, propelled forward by wind pressing on large, flexible planes.” Beverly saw a small, primitive-looking ship with bellied sails. “It was obvious to me that such a thing could not be natural, but only the product of some strange sentience. On further observation I saw individuals of your people operating the craft. I attempted to speak with them, but they could neither see nor hear my spirit form.
“I returned to my ship, greatly agitated, and informed my companions of the existence of sentient life on this world. They were interested and concerned until they investigated for themselves and saw that the creatures appeared to be body-bound and unable to interact with our spirits. That caused my companions to determine your people to be of no importance, so that we need not take you into consideration in our plans.”
Again the Seraph covered its face in shame. “Though I tried to persuade them of their error, they would not listen. I alone among our number adhere to the worship of God. Even on our home world only a few of us did. Over the years messengers from God have come to us, telling us how he created all beings, of his love for all he created, and his desire for all beings to deal with each other rightly, according to the ways of his law.
“But my people are proud and stubborn. For many ages we have treated each other only as enemies or competitors. We band together only when it is to the mutual benefit of all concerned. Those who are weak are considered of no account, to be exploited by the strong and discarded when their usefulness is exhausted. None among the strong listened to the words of the messengers of God. Some among the weak did, but could do nothing with their beliefs save help each other in small ways. A few like me, strong enough to survive and thrive, but too weak rise to posit
ions of leadership, heard the message and believed. We did what we could to change the ways of our people, but with little success.”
Noh broke his long silence. “Among my people it is much the same. Few listen to the words of God, and fewer still heed them.”
“See? Our spirits are much alike, despite the difference of our bodies.” The Seraph blinked at Noh, the transparent membranes sliding across its eyes and back. “When my companions dismissed my concerns, I traveled back to your world. With growing dismay I saw how many of your people dwelt close beside the waters of rivers and seas. I knew that when the water from the heavens poured into the ocean, it would rise and drown many lands. Great numbers of your people would perish.
“There was little I could do, but I determined to do what I could. I attempted to speak to as many of your people as I might. To my great joy I discovered that some few could hear me. I warned them of the coming flood and begged them to seek sufficiently high places, if such were nearby, or construct floating craft if no other means could save them.”
He drooped again. “Some paid heed, but most did not. Now it’s too late for any who failed to take action. The rain from the heavens has begun to descend. It won’t cease until your oceans have the same concentration of salt as those of our old home. By that time fully half of your dry land will be submerged. Perhaps your kind will be wiped out altogether.”
Noh drifted back and forth before the Seraph. “My mind is overcome by the visions you have shown me.” For several more minutes he paced, then halted facing the Seraph. “Is it truly too late to stop this calamity? Would it be possible for me to travel with you to your vessel and speak to your companions? They would see that we are indeed beings like you, possessed of spirits, worthy of life.”
The Seraph’s head drifted to one side. “Perhaps. Some of the ice has already entered your air, but much more has not yet reached it. It could be diverted. The sea would still rise, but not so much. Many more of your people would survive.”
“Conduct me there.” Noh came close to the Seraph and held out his hands. “I will plead for my people.”
The Seraph backed away, tail thrashing from side to side. “I fear they won’t listen. Their desire to provide a new home for our people will be much stronger than their concern for strange beings, even if they become convinced you possess spirits. They might well slay you, and me also, so that they may go about their task unhindered.”
Noh hesitated. “I would spend my own life without grief to save my people, but I don’t wish to put you at risk. If they turn in anger against us, can we defend ourselves?”
“There are twenty-six of them. Two against so many would be hopeless. If others of your people can learn to travel in spirit as you have and accompany us, we might have a chance. Perhaps even to overpower them and turn the remaining ice aside ourselves.”
The image of the Seraph jerked as Noh nodded decisively. “How long do we have?”
“The next piece of ice will enter the air in about twelve of your days. After that will be a pause until approximately forty days from now, when a cluster of seven will enter in quick succession.”
Noh swiveled to gaze at the sleeping forms of his family. “I will speak to Nama and the others when they wake. Come again at nightfall tomorrow. Together we will teach them to travel in spirit.”
“I will.” The Seraph bent its body in a deep, graceful bow.
Around Beverly the box-shaped vessel shifted once, then again. She felt Noh swallow. “The rising waters have reached us.”
“Come. Let us observe how your vessel fares.” The Seraph floated toward the wall and disappeared through it. After only a moment of surprise, Noh followed.
Outside, all was dark. Wind whipped sheets of rain across the night sky. Black water stretched below as far as Noh could see. The vessel lifted and swayed as waves buoyed it up. With a lurch it came fully afloat for a moment, then grounded again with a shudder.
The Seraph’s voice reached Noh through the tumult of the storm. “When next it rises, let us tow it to deeper water so that it may not dash against the shore and break.”
“How?”
“Follow my lead.”
When the next wave lifted the vessel, the Seraph focused his gaze upon it. Noh imitated him, concentrating with all his strength. Beverly felt a strange sensation in his mind as it grabbed hold of the vessel and pulled. With a shout of triumph Noh towed it out to sea, the Seraph matching his efforts.
They released it far out into the dark water, away from any danger. It listed to one side but remained afloat, even as the waves tossed it. Noh headed back inside and inspected the interior closely, marking several spots where water seeped through the pitch. The animals shifted, bleating in fright. “I must wake my sons and set to work.”
“I will leave you until tomorrow, then.”
Noh inclined his head to the Seraph. “Until then, my friend.” He hesitated. “Do you have a name I might address you by?”
The Seraph blinked. “Our words are not as yours. But in our language, I am called—” The click and squeal that followed carried no meaning.
Noh imitated them the best he could. “Gab-eel. Is that sufficiently close?”
Beverly sensed humor from the Seraph’s mind, but it bobbed its head. “It will do. And I will call you ‘Nnnnnohh.’” The name reached Noh’s ears as a moan followed by a puff of breath.
“Very well.” Noh put out his hand. Gabeel stretched one middle fin forward until the tip brushed it. “Until tomorrow.”
The Memory dissolved into a swirl of color. Beverly rubbed her eyes and blinked. “Wow. They really are aliens. Their sun went supernova?”
“That’s what the Memory seems to show. In the past few decades we’ve come to think it probable that it was the supernova that formed the Veil Nebula. In any case, as you saw, the Seraphim’s home planet was destroyed.”
“And the refugees found Earth.” She shook her head. “It’s too bad they couldn’t use it the way it was. So they dumped a bunch of comets on us, to add water?” She frowned. “Isn’t there science fiction about people doing that sort of thing to other planets? Terraforming, is that what it’s called?”
“Yes. Although we’ve coined the term ‘xenoforming’ for when the goal is to reproduce an alien planet’s characteristics, rather than those of Earth, or ‘Terra.’”
“Makes sense.” Beverly pondered for a while, digesting everything she’d seen and heard. “I wouldn’t expect aliens to talk about God the same way we do. The Seraph—um, Gabeel, right?—used the same word and everything.”
“You must remember, the Memories are filtered through Noh’s perceptions, and all his communication with Gabeel takes place telepathically. If you pay close attention, you can hear the word Gabeel uses in his own language, which may or may not signify all the same things we mean when we say ‘God.’ But apparently the concept was similar enough that Noh’s mind interpreted it using the word familiar to him, and our minds interpret his thoughts using the word familiar to us.” He looked thoughtful. “Also, it’s quite likely that the concept of God contained in the Memories influenced the later development of Judaism and perhaps other Earth religions as well. It wouldn’t be the only idea to have spread from the Covenant into the broader human culture over the millennia.”
“Hmmph.” Beverly wrinkled her nose. “I guess Noh succeeds in teaching his family astral projection and they manage to stop the Seraphim.”
Rabbi Sensei smiled. “You’ll have to wait until you observe the last Memory to find out. For now, let’s break for lunch, then meet in the gym for our afternoon session.”
Beverly nodded and rose to leave. For the first time she didn’t dread returning to the gym. In fact, she almost looked forward to it.
Chapter 12
Adrian pushed open the doors of HBQ headquarters and headed for the reception desk, yawning. The day had started far too early. He'd left the hotel for the airport at five so he’d have plenty of time to get throu
gh security before his seven a.m. departure. The flight to New York had been long enough to allow him to nod off, but not long enough to get in a good nap before the flight attendant roused him for landing. It was great to be back in the city, but the packed subway had reminded him of the things he didn’t like about New York. He’d checked into his hotel and grabbed a quick lunch. Now he was reporting for duty in time to get half a day’s work done.
“Mr. Mandelsky’s expecting me,” he told the receptionist. Rabbi Sensei didn’t like to be interrupted, either by telepathy or cell phone, unless something really urgent came up. For routine matters he preferred a more traditional approach.
“He left word for you to join him in the gym.” She gave him a wide smile. “Welcome back, Adrian.”
Adrian rode the elevator up to the fifth floor. Knowing Rabbi Sensei, he’d expect Adrian to be ready to jump right into the thick of things, so he headed for the locker room. As he passed through the gym he spotted Rabbi Sensei on Mat Three wearing his karate gi and black belt, earnestly speaking to a student who knelt facing him, so he donned a gi as well.
He strode up to the mat and waited respectfully until Rabbi Sensei finished addressing the student and turned to give Adrian a welcoming smile. “Greetings, Adrian.”
“Hello, Rabbi Sensei. What do you need me to do? Where’s—” He broke off, staring, as the student twisted to see him and broke into a grin.
Beverly looked the same as always, yet she was transformed. She radiated enthusiastic confidence, a shocking contrast to the prickly defensiveness she’d shielded herself with in Cleveland. A moment ago, listening to Rabbi Sensei, she’d exhibited a centered calm that, while still clearly at a beginner level, showed that she’d made significant progress in learning to meditate. Now she jumped to her feet without any self-consciousness, clumsy still, but with traces of nascent grace. She raced to him with bouncy steps and flung her arms around him in a hug that left him breathless.
