CounterPoint

by Daniel Rafferty

  “And that applies to you too, Ruchiel,” he said, looking up towards the Heavens to the floating angel above the highest wave. The waves subsided. The wind returned to calm. The rain was reduced to a slight shower and the boat began to steady itself though the alarm bells still rung loudly. Water teamed off the ship at an alarming rate. Ariel and his squadron had disappeared along with the stranger and the floating angel above the wave. David gulped a huge breath of air, as if he hadn’t breathed in years. Its rejuvenating freshness filled his eager lungs. He clasped on to the railing with both hands now, trying to steady himself, and steeled himself for what was to come.

  Chapter 13

  “Come.”

  Amber walked briskly into Ariel’s office, which was still a heavy mess of parchment and other beige coloured items. The return of Pravuil to planetary affairs had certainly spread like wildfire across angelic departments. She wasn’t surprised therefore when Ariel asked her to his office, there was much to discuss. Standing with his hands behind his back, staring at the huge Earth map emboldened into his office wall Ariel had a stern look. The map was blazing with activity, red dots swarmed every continent as demons sought to wreak havoc on the planet and cause as much chaos as possible before the armies of Heaven entered the arena.

  “How quickly the times can change.”

  “Indeed, sir” she replied, sitting down on her usual armchair facing the imposing large desk. Flipping open her trusted file pad with writing utensil ready, she studied him intensely. It was clear a battle of morality was taking place within him.

  “Only a few weeks ago it was business as usual. Yes we had a surge in demonic activity but nothing that couldn’t be countered in the short to medium term. Now we stand, overlooking a cliff about to tear this planet to pieces.”

  “I share your foreboding, sir.”

  “Is it so wrong that I am considering disobeying my superiors?”

  Amber folded her legs, and rested her chin upon her thumb and let out a sigh. “Is it so wrong you’re not the only person in this room having those thoughts?”

  Ariel unintentionally smiled. Settling behind his desk, he snapped his fingers and the glass doors to his office shrouded. The room made a clenching, almost stiffening noise as if sealing up.

  “I would hate for us to be imprisoned before even discussing this,” he replied to her knowing glance. Disobeying any order was punishable by immediate imprisonment and even execution.

  “We cannot let this planet be destroyed, sir. That is not what we are here for,” started Amber compellingly, leaning forward.

  “We’ve spent our entire existence caretaking this world. We have a lot to be ashamed off, but this marks a watershed moment. If Michael is allowed to start this war I don’t even think Pandora will be able to close that box afterwards.” Ariel hadn’t thought of that particular galactic troublemaker in a long time.

  “This all started with the Bassett Family.”

  Ariel stared at her, his face proving he had come to the same conclusion. “After that incident with Pravuil I visited The Archives.”

  “Sasha,” said Amber knowingly. Sasha worked closely with Ariel and herself in the department through some of the biggest challenges they had yet faced. Seconded to The Archives, she still maintained close contact with the department.

  “Apparently, Raphael visited The Archives two weeks ago to request a report on a recent sighting of unnatural human abilities. He destroyed the report and left abruptly. The defence director told me that Michael’s march to war only slowed when he learned of them. We should be in the midst of a war right now if Michael had not discovered the Bassett’s. We must secure them; find out what they represent and if they know anything.”

  “If that is true, their importance in this theatre is of mammoth proportions, sir. We must also consider that this human family may be evil. While going down the path of war is unacceptable, Michael’s quest to have them secured may be more reasonable than we care to accept.”

  “All these possibilities are burning inside me but there’s also something else, something I feel we are being kept in the dark about…” he trailed off to gather his thoughts, wary of devolving into a rant he knew would not help the situation. He needed Amber to understand the implications, and hopefully to provide him with a plausible explanation for everything so he could put these thoughts to rest.

  “The Bassett family are certainly an enigma, sir.”

  “Aren’t they just,” he replied, slamming a handful of parchments he had lifted without noticing onto his desk loudly. “That family are clearly not simple humans. They possess gifts and abilities that only those of a supernatural type possess. I know we have documented over the centuries humans having abilities far beyond what is considered natural. I know over one hundred humans descended upon the European land mass in the Second World War to fight against attempted human genocide.”

  “They shouldn’t have had to,” rejected Amber angrily.

  “Meaning?”

  “Those humans should not have felt the need to charge into battle. That situation was one of failure on our part. We had the power to intervene when the first signs of trouble became apparent yet we did nothing,” she vented, swiping her hand in the air clearly showing her frustration.

  “Something else we both agree on,” he replied quietly.

  “The First World War was our real wake-up call. It showed us the strength demons could project if they infiltrated the right humans who held offices of political and military significance. Problems arose when it descended into a world war.” The conflicts through human history always angered Amber deeply; she felt that burning, almost unstoppable frustration with them. They were unnecessarily complicated, serving only to benefit those who had malicious ‘destines’ to fulfil. She often felt angels and demons were more to blame than humanity itself for everything that had gone wrong on this problem ridden planet. They were continually fighting against an ever stronger tide of evil, corruption and discontent on all sides.

  “It woke us up in more ways than you think. Try and explain this,” he commanded. He threw a dark red parchment booklet down in front of her. It read:

  Rebalancing Mechanism to Ensure the Natural Order

  Commissioned for and on behalf of:

  The Archangel Michael

  “A rebalancing mechanism?” said Amber confused.

  “A very eloquent way of saying extermination.”

  Amber gasped, breezing through the various pages to get a feel of the detail. The book detailed macabre things like how to effectively carry out human torture – the sensitive points to ‘crucify’ and how long to maintain ‘unbearable pain’ for in each area. It even went as far as to show the different and most effective torture points for the different genders and ages of the humans. Skimming through more pages, she saw moving illustrations of brutal human vivisection. The notes seemed to indicate how humans that possessed supernatural powers were no different physically from those who didn’t – as these pictures very grotesquely showed.

  “Sir, I find it hard to believe...” said Amber finally, unable to read more.

  “Believe it, Amber. It’s all there. Orders issued by Michael himself for the capture and extermination of any human being who possessed, or even was suspect of possessing, any abilities which were considered unnatural. Our responsibility is to humans residing on this planet and our boss is exterminating them. How the Hell can torture, the brutal extermination of humans not even possessed by demonic power, and gross experimentation be in the name of God? How can Management really be working in the name of God, abiding by his wishes and acting in his name? I am deeply disturbed by this discovery.”

  “How did you come across this?”

  “It was left on my desk. I don’t know who left it here but clearly we have an ally somewhere. We need all the allies we can get. Suffice to say it obviously came from someone in Heaven, not involved in the Ministry but equally as appalled as we are.”

  “This
family must have slipped through Michael’s net, but why would he want them captured now?”

  “Firstly, how did that many humans operate under our radar since this experiment began? More so, there has to be something different about the Bassett family. But what? There’s something stopping us from just taking them by force. I’m sure they didn’t encounter these types of problems when the rest were rounded up.”

  “That much is now obvious, sir,” Amber continued. “Remember at their house? When they were leaving and blasted us afar, that was intense power.”

  “I felt it too. It was a natural power, not unnatural.” Ariel was accurately aware of the difference. Natural power tended to happen instantly and was all-encompassing. You felt yourself being fully encircled with its energy until the final act transpired. With unnatural power, it tended to be more patchy and unpredictable.

  “Ariel,” she said, breaking rank. “We need to make a decision. We can either rid this planet of evil and tear it apart in the process or...” she paused, “take a stand.”

  The question lingered in the air as Ariel glared down at his fingernails.

  “That would be an almost impossible task to even contemplate.”

  “Sir, if we are agreeing to disobey the commands of Management and attempt to stop this war then we agree to it now. Only then do we discuss how to stop it.”

  The air was thick with tension. Ariel had fleeting thoughts of disobeying in the past but they were just that – fleeting. Now, he was standing atop his own cliff readying to take the plunge.

  “Our first duty is to humanity and the experiment. All other duties are subservient. We must stop this war.”

  “And so it begins,” replied Amber. A wave of cold relief washed over her, as if released from the suffocating constraints of angelic rules. “To take on the might of Heaven and Hell will be no easy task. Sir, our first task must be to disrupt this march to war, even if temporarily. If we don’t, the war will have started before we can stop it.”

  “The key to that is securing the Bassett family ourselves. Michael seems unwilling to start this war until they are in his custody. We must find them before he does. After that incident with Pravuil, Michael is likely to dispatch Uriel to capture the family.” Amber agreed. Uriel had a reputation of being somewhat of a ‘monster’ on the battlefield for an angel. He had little to no respect for any form of life.

  “It will certainly make things more interesting Amber, but we must find out what the Bassett’s actually are. As they’ve demonstrated, we are unable to take them by force.”

  “The memorial service starts for Gabriel in ten minutes, sir.” Amber had forgotten about this service for Gabriel, such was the intense discussion she was having with her director.

  “I’m not going. There’s simply too much to be done, too much to investigate. Go and represent me. Besides, I do not believe his death was accidental. Out of all the archangels, he fought with Michael the most. Michael always resented Gabriel because God placed in him the highest trust. Gabriel always fought for the experiment, knowing how important it was. I think he was led to his death, along with his most loyal followers.”

  “You’re suggesting treason, sir, of the highest magnitude.”

  “I’m surmising we may have stumbled on the first rumbling of an internal civil war Amber.”

  Chapter 14

  George worked at a gas distribution centre just outside London. It was a boring, dull job. The health and safety aspect, the rigid requirements for meeting precise measurements, annoyed everyone else but fascinated him. He was definitely a ‘by the book’ kind of guy. Tonight was a particularly quiet night, everything was well within set limits and George nursed his cup of coffee on top of his stomach, relaxing in the tranquillity of the room.

  “George here,” he said, picking up the phone and juggling his coffee at the same time. “No one, I’ll meet you there.” Gulping down the rest of the coffee, George got up and headed towards the central distribution connection. Apparently the security cameras showed someone down there. At this late hour, near 2am, there shouldn’t be anyone here apart from security and himself. Probably an admin error as usual he thought, it wouldn’t be the first time.

  The central distribution conduit of this new state of the art gas hub was located half a kilometre below the surface and in a supposedly highly secured area. George knew that security was lax. After being open a number of years the staff had all become familiar with each other and often overlooked protocols for sake of convenience. Meeting Rick just outside the thick, solid steel security door bolted to the wall with six huge hinges, George waved his security pass across the square scanner panel adjacent to the middle door hinge. It opened inwards gently to a dimly lit room, standard really for this late hour. At the centre was a large rectangular glass chamber sunk into the ground and illuminated with blue LED lights that showed the gas leaving the complex, speeding along the vast network of pipes under London and half the country. A sombre looking man turned round to stare at them as he stood directly beside the chamber.

  “You’re not authorised to be in here,” said George harshly. He knew by this guy’s formal attire that he was no engineer on a maintenance round. His white gloves stood out against the dark room and the intruder’s dark clothes. The security guard advanced forward slowly, his hand firmly on his baton.

  “I am authorised by the highest authority,” said the stranger before placing his hand on the glass chamber and closing his eyes.

  “Remove your hand from that chamber now!” shouted George, motioning for the security guard to intervene. The guard didn’t move, however. George looked at him. He stood ever so still, his eyes fixated on the intruder while the colour of his skin turned a dark red.

  “At present, he is melting from the inside out. His organs are being melted down to a point where the skin won’t be able to hold it all together. I’d step back if I were you, it tends to get messy towards the end. Goodbye.”

  George watched in astonishment as the intruder vanished before his very eyes. He was quickly brought back to reality by a short grisly choking sound from the security guard before he collapsed to the floor, breaking apart and spilling out. The smell of liquefied organs and boiled blood repulsed George and he vomited on the spot, collapsing into the human soup. The loud repetitive alarm sirens and flashing red lights gave him the adrenaline to rush back to the control room. The control room itself was still empty due to the late hour but it would soon be buzzing with activity. As soon as the alarm system was activated all relevant staff would be contacted automatically. Due to the sensitive nature of this depot all staff had to live within fifteen minutes car travel of the facility. Nearly tripping over his own feet getting into the control room, he smashed the breakable glass of a cabinet housing a red telephone.

  “Level one emergency!” he shouted down the receiver.

  ***

  A breach in the darkness woke up Tom ever so slightly. He was never one for being disturbed, especially at this late hour. A large thin silhouette, illuminated in the light against the darkness of his bedroom, walked towards him.

  “Will? What is it?” said Tom, sitting upright immediately.

  “Prime Minister, we have an emergency situation. COBRA is convening downstairs as we speak,” said Will, turning on the lights in the room.

  “What the Hell!” shouted Tom, jumping out of bed and racing towards the bathroom. He always kept what he called an ‘emergency suit’ hanging in the bathroom closet in case of situations like this. “Give me five minutes.”

  The COBRA meeting room was deep underground in Downing Street. There were replica meeting rooms under Parliament and another undisclosed location. It was a huge rectangular room flooded with flat screens on every wall. A large executive meeting desk filled the centre with the Prime Minister’s chair red compared to all the others which were black. Tom was glad to see everyone getting into their seats as his security guards opened the double doors into the room. Sitting down at once w
hile still doing his tie, he began firing questions around the room. His assistants hadn’t been able to tell him much more than it was an emergency – which he had gathered anyway.

  “Prime Minister,” replied George, the home secretary, a plump, suited, red- faced man with years of experience edged into his now wrinkled face. “The situation is quite critical. We’re estimating we have between forty and fifty minutes before the entire London gas network explodes. If that happens, sir, London will go up in flames.”

  “George I don’t accept that London is about to go up in flames; what the Hell can we do?” shouted Tom, smacking his hand of the table.

  “Sir,” General Robinson sat forward, “we blow the pipeline. If we can stop the gas before it gets to the Central London distribution network, then we save London. Or most of it anyway.”

  “And just create a bigger fireball somewhere else which we have no hope of stopping,” yelled Kate McWillows, the defence secretary.

  “Prime Minister, we have one of the managers from the gas centre on video cam.”

  “Put him on.”

  The screen at the end of the table, attached to the solid steel wall, flickered and buffered briefly until a face appeared.

  “Prime Minister, my name is George. I’m currently in charge here at the gas distribution centre.” Behind George, teams of people ran in every direction, fighting for computer consoles and telephone lines frantically checking statistic sheets reaming off the printers.

  “Prime Minister, in less than thirty minutes a gas fireball is going to reach Central London. The power of this surge is likely to expand outwards into homes and businesses across the city in the underground pipe works. Sir, we’re talking explosions in the streets, businesses burning and families trapped.”

  “Is this a terrorist attack?” snapped another General.

  “At the moment,” weighed in the Prime Minister, shooting a death glare at the General, “I’m more concerned with the people of London. What would you recommend, George?”