Chronicles of the
Children of Destiny
Rise of the Saruvim
Daniel Thomas Andrew Daly
Copyright 6178 SC (in the adjusted HNF Calendar) / 2015 CE
The Firstborn Son of Kalphon
PART ONE – VISION OF THE ECK
Raguel and Dorachel
Daniel and Raguel
Ariel and Dorachel
Ariel and Abaddon
Dorachel and Doreen
Abaddon and the Saruvim
Daniel and Abaddon
Daniel and Raguel & Abaddon
A Prayer to God
Daniel and Raguel & Abaddon 2
The Vision of the Eck
Nothing Else Remains
PART TWO – CHRISTFORCE, TORAH BRIGADE & THE SARUVIM DAREDEVIL'S
The Saruvim Daredevil's
Desdrael and Chantel
Callodyn and Kayella X: Dawn of the 'Torah Brigade'
Desdrael and Aime
Hotshit up Shitcreek
Love IV: Love Reconsiders
Batman and the Silver Fox Flying High
Slipstream, Tailwind and Gobbledy Gook's Night Out
Zadennuel Strikes Hard
Kayella and Winoniel
4 O'Clock 14
Samson and Goliath
Flight of the Nighthawk
Jetydosa the Saruvim
Diagonel Son of Dameriel
The Return of Jetydosa
PART THREE – THE CHILDREN OF FATE
Lost in the 7th Heaven
Callodyn and Kayella XI: Sweet & Sour
4 O'Clock 15
Callodyn and Kayella XII: Charity Time
Callodyn and Kayella XIII: True Love
By the Power of the Rainbow
The Glory of Zaphon
Dirty Dancing in the Moonlight
Quadel and Layelliel
Brunch with the Power Women of Zaphona City
Meludiel and Azrael
Sharakondra and Ambriel
Queriel and Jembryel
Roshael and Zantrameriel
Mishael and Kimborel
PART FOUR – FRONTAL IMPACT
Pentra Angelica Infinitum
PART FIVE – FAREWELL
Haven Noahide Fellowship II
Ambriel's Adventure in the Dralikon
Saruviel the Wrathful Antichrist
Back in Business
Marckonyel in the Shit
Marckonyel on Melladon
Marckonyel on Galadon
Marckonyel on Ranladon
Zadennuel Strikes Hard 2
Devuel and Lara Stone
Zadennuel and Marckonyel
Kokabiel's Kollection of Kool Komix
Kokabiel, Abaddon and Callodyn & Co
Kokabiel in the Afternoon
Gilgadel on the Grog
Gilgadel and Marckonyel
Gilgadel's Building Supplies Empire
Gilgadel and Marckonyel II
Gilgadel's Building Supplies Empire 2
Kokabiel in the Afternoon II
Xaddadaxx and the Chaos Crystal IV
Gospel Followers III
Dick Dagger: Dick up a Lesbian
Morning Stars: Daraqel
The Firstborn Son of Kalphon
Radiel. Radiel was born to Saruviel and Krystabel, and born urgently in the halls of Kalphon Keep in Terraphora. He came early, and Krystabel's waters broke, and young Radiel was delivered in Saruviel's office.
'There are 3 sixes, in a birthmark, on his head,' said Krystabel, nursing the child. 'They are faint, but you can see them.'
Saruviel thought back, long ago, to a story told him by a Catholic priest. About a birthmark he once had in earthly years.
'Think nothing of it,' he said. 'It shouldn't be an issue.'
'HE'S NOT A SERAPHIM OFFSPRING. HE IS ALSO CHOSEN FOR THE SARUVIM,' said the voice of God suddenly in the office of Saruviel.
'Uh, yes father,' said Saruviel. 'As you wish.'
'ENSURE HE KNOWS HIS COMMUNITY.' And the voice of God went silent.
Radiel, the firstborn son of Kalphon, as Saruviel tenderly called him, grew up strong and in the grace of God. He was a physically active child, and in his teens soon started hanging around the Cherubim angel Marckonyel. They became best buddies and, with his friends from Saruvim Angel School, they looked up to Marckonyel as the leader of their viceful ways. But not too viceful. Yet, they were Saruvim after all. Those who knew the Saruvim of the Realm of Infinity and, indeed, so much of the behaviours of the Saruvim of Eternity, knew just what that meant.
'Send Jendiel the email, Radiel. Go on,' said Varxanel, a fellow Saruvim friend.
'It's pretty rude though,' said Radiel. 'I don't think she will be DTF if you know what I mean.'
'Try her bro. She's easy. Believe me.'
Radiel hit send.
4 days later, coming out of the sex clinicians room, Marckonyel asked 'Wassup?'
'Herpes,' responded Radiel.
'Them's the breaks kid,' replied the experienced Marckonyel.
Radiel, in his 20s, started studying spacecraft design at 'Global Space Designs Institute,' and upon completion of the 20 year degree, was working at 'Star Frontiers' in the design department. He had an ambition now – build his own spacefleet of warriors from the Saruvim community. It was a dream from Star Wars movies he had seen as a kid, but it never left him. And his ambitions continued, when at 100 on his birthday his company was launched, with an extensive loan from his father Saruviel, and his project began. Recruiting them, ultimately, didn't seem that difficult either. A Saruvim son of Saruviel of Eternity had a lot of influence. People looked up to him, and he had a lot of power because of it. Perhaps too much power.
As the centuries passed his spacefleet organisation came into existence and he had a name for them. Saruvim Starpower Elite Fighter Force. A lengthy title, but there were literally trillions of organisations these days on such things. It didn't deter Radiel though – he had ambition.
And, as Starpower flew the heavenlies, and patrolled regularly around the Realms, and flew over Eternya a lot, demand for their services gradually grew. Supercops in many way. Paid to keep the peace. But, in time, a destiny awaited. A struggle against a new power, and that, perhaps, of the most expected destinies for a child of Revelation in the end anyway. The most expected indeed.
Part One – Vision of the Eck
‘So, Daniel. Have you stopped fornicating?’
‘Yes, Ariel. I have. Me and Delilah have been together 2,000 years now, and we aren’t going anywhere towards other partners. She says she will remain faithful to me forever, and I have learned my lesson. I never did it that much, you know, with other girls. And I was on 100% safe sex practice with them. Every single time I used the condom and believe me I was cautious. I went down on girls a few times to start with, but cut that out completely and never did it again. But now, with Delilah, I won’t even look at another woman. I won’t take the risk. She has been educating me on Venereal Diseases and healthy living, and I am very careful now sister. I won’t be stupid again.’
Ariel nodded. ‘Then I have a question.’
‘Will you marry me as well? I am happy to be your second wife after Delilah. I have waited until you got the point?’
‘Mmm. Two wives.’
‘Jacob does it. So does Abraham and many others. You don’t have a problem with it do you?’
‘No, sweetie, I don’t. Wait here.’ He left the room, returned shortly, and asked for her hand. She offered it, and he placed a ring on her finger and said ‘Marry me, dearly beloved.’ She nodded, and that was that.
They were married 4 weeks later and Daniel was a married man again, with two wives, and very, very happy. And he had learned an important lesson, which he shared to many, that playing the field was as wise as Russian roulette. Eventually you would shoot, hit and that would be the end of the game.
Raguel and Dorachel
Today was Radoladon, the 5th day of the Month of Ragumon – Raguel’s special day for spending time with his twin Dorachel. Radoladon was the day of the month named after these fifth-born Seraphim twins of the Realm of Eternity, and the day of the month Raguel looked forward to the most. They were on holidays in Terraphora, and today, their special day, they had planned a trip to the fair.
‘You ready, sweetie.’
As they meandered around the ‘Grande and Greate Faire of Springston’ Raguel was having the time of his life. Dorachel was dressed in a very attractive red top and skirt and he was feeling lustful thoughts towards her. Tonight he would see if she was interested.
They came to the clowns and Raguel paid the angel and obtained 4 balls. ‘Close your eyes when you put them in,’ he said to Dorachel, who dutifully obeyed him. The result was 3 on number 1 and 1 on number 5. ‘Choose your prize from this row,’ said the Angel, and Dorachel chose a cute looking toy giraffe.
They continued on throughout the fair and they bought some candy floss. Raguel liked the way it melted in the mouth.
They came to the dodgems and Raguel was eager to go on them, but Dorachel complained. ‘You always deliberately run head first into people.’
‘Hey its fun.’
‘Uuurrrrhhh. Well, ok. But never again.’
‘Come on sweetie.’
True to form, Raguel ran head first into many of the other dodgems, much to the complaints of the attendant who carefully tried to explain to the Seraphim that the purpose of the game was to actually ‘Dodge’ the other vehicles, which brought a chuckle from Raguel.
Later on, as they watched the fireworks that closed the fair for the night, Dorachel was snuggling up against her twin. ‘Today was a good day, Rags. A very good day. I don’t think I have had as much fun since that time with Karel and Uriel.’
‘Yes, they are always good company. Well, come on. The show is nearly over. Lets go.’
They returned to their hotel, and as she was getting undressed Raguel stood in the room, gazing at her body. She looked at him, sensed his mood, and said ‘So you want some do you?’
He nodded like a schoolboy.
They made passionate love that night, and later on Raguel, resting, thought he was so incredibly blessed to be with such an attractive twin.
They spent quite a while in Terraphora on their holidays, exploring places they had not yet been to, and when they returned to Brephon Raguel was pleased he’d had a good rest. But work beckoned, and Brephon was always a challenging place to administer, but such were his responsibilities in life. And, really, with holidays with Dorachel to look forward to, it seemed to make all the hard work worth it in the end. And, he guessed, he would have it no other way. No other way at all.
Raguel was asleep. In his dream his soul was wandering the realms of God, and he was in delight. He saw visions of a multitude of rainbows and doves, and then, towards the end of the dream, it turned a little dark. And a grim figure appeared. 'Your destiny will be great, dear Angel of God. But don't expect to be unopposed.' And the figure laughed a little, and the dream turned.
'What was the dream about?' asked Dorachel.
'It was – intense. But the end worried me.'
'Write it out in your dream journal,' she said to her twin. 'Speak to the congregation. Mahanta Harold will be visiting us soon. Perhaps you could speak with him. You know as Eckists we are responsible for our own destiny, so maybe the Mahanta could help you interpret your dream.'
'Maybe,' said Raguel.
The dream stayed on Raguel's mind for some time, and later that year Mahanta Harold Klemp was at their local temple, and Raguel sought him out for advice.
'Your dreams are important, for the light and sound of God speaks to us through dreams, and teaches us the things we need to know to restore our Karma. You are walking in light, as the rainbows and doves teach, but you have found opposition. Darkness opposes you. They might fear you and your power. Goodness is what we esteem in Eckankar, but we can't escape that there is, how shall I put it, darker realities in life.'
'Thank you Harold,' said Raguel.
The weeks passed and the dream gradually drifted to the back of Raguel's mind, and life went on for him and Dorachel. But, as the weeks then months passed, he felt something. Something strange. As if he was being watched. As if he was being considered and puzzled on. And while it didn't feel like an evil spirit, it certainly felt rather sarcastically malevolent in its intentions towards him. A very strange spirit. A very weird emanation of the spirit. He prayed to God, and the spirit passed after a while, but as the year passed he couldn't help be think something soon was about to happen in his life and, truthfully, he was not quite sure he would be ready for what strange new destiny awaited him.
Daniel and Raguel
'He's Abaddon. Second of the Saruvim of Infinity. A real nasty piece of work. Very bloody sarcastic,' said Daniel to Raguel.
'He's been there all morning, staring at me,' said Raguel. They were in a local cafe, Raguel with his laptop in front of him working on a paper involing his work.
'You told me of your dream. A dark figure. My guess is that's him, bro,' said Daniel.
'What the heck does he bloody want?' asked Raguel concerned.
'The 7 Saruvim are rarely up to any good,' said Daniel. 'With a leader like Satan, what do you expect.'
'He's creepy,' said Dorachel. 'The way he stares at Rags. I'm going to give him a piece of my mind.' And no sooner as she had said it, she was up, off to the back of the cafe, confronting Abaddon.
'What the hell is your problem?' she asked the Saruvim lord.
'What, me babe? Just drinking coffee. Can I get you one?'
'What have you got against Raguel. He means nobody any harm.'
'There is a convergence coming. Of the light and sound of God. Yet Darklight insists on its bloody self babe, and for the dark to triumph over the light, we observe our opposition. Always two sides of the force, remember babe.'
'This is not Star Wars, creep.'
'The light and sound of creation works on similar precepts. We're about power. Authority. Absolutism. And we ain't necessarily just evil, ok. We are misunderstood on that a lot. But we aint your childhood nannies either sweetie. Don't worry, ok darling. We are not trying to kill Raguel. Just gonna have ourselves some fun, that's all.'
'Creep,' she said, and stormed off.
'What did he say?' asked Raguel, who was looking cautiously at Abaddon who was fearlessly staring back.'
'Something about convergence,' she replied.
'That's the big thing. A judgement of sorts,' said Daniel. 'When those with the most influence gain authority for the next epoch. The light of God always triumphs, usually. But the Saruvim don't just give in Dorrie.'
'No they don't,' said Raguel. 'But what have I got to do with it?'
'Maybe your the chosen one,' said Daniel, a quirky smile on his face. 'To bring balance to the force kemosabe.'
Raguel glared at Daniel. 'Balance my butt,' he replied. 'And I didn't volunteer to be the chosen one.'
'Who ever does. Your just chosen. The way it actually works, if I recall.'
'Wonderful,' replied Raguel.
They chatted for a while, and went off back to their homes. But all that week Raguel couldn't get Abaddon out of his thoughts, and the big question – Chosen for what, exactly? Only time would tell.
Ariel and Dorachel
'So how is life with Daniel San?' asked Dorachel to Ariel.
'I've been his twin for all eternity. I probably should know, you know. What he likes. Delillah likes him. Puzzles me. Chasing Samson's old flame, yet he says he loves her. His kind of girl, apparently. Philistine beauty.'
'He is unusual is Daniel,' replied Dorachel.
'He does say his spiritual life has improved, though, since we got married. He practices the Hu late in the afternoon most days, and it helps him calm down. But he says to me he feels even more peace now, and dreams of meadows on mountain tops all the time, and I am running to him, and I am surrounded colours and beautiful music, and it is as if everything is perfect. I read it all the time in his dream journals. I think the Eck is giving him these dreams to teach him be loyal to me, you know. He was never that great at loyalty. Even way back, when Zaphon was young, he always fancied Meludiel the Seraphim, and ignored his Cherubim soul mater. I was distressed a lot, because I have always wanted to settle with my twin in the end. It's the way its supposed to be.'
'Not necessarily,' said Dorachel. 'I know my and Raguel stick together as a team, but he does look at other ladies, and I know for certain there have been rare infidelities.'
'He's only a guy, Dorrie,' said Ariel. 'What do you expect. They are faithless in many ways. Why the Eck is sending Daniel dreams to love me, so that he will stay loyal.'
'Let's hope so sis,' said Dorachel.
'Anyway, what about Raguel. Has he had any more run ins with that Saruvim creep Abaddon.'
'Not really. But he says he seems him down at the local pub when he goes for a drink. Down the back playing pool. He seems to have moved into the neighbourhood for the time being,' replied Dorachel.
'What exactly is the Convergence all about?' asked Ariel.
'Technically, there has been one before. It was a long time ago, and it was a quiet affair settled in the throneroom of Zaphon between Archangel Michael and Satan. Satan had to acknowledge that people thought he was just the plain old devil, and didn't want him to rule in any way, shape or form. The theophany adjudicated, and Satan generally acknowledged the point. Raguel researched it recently online, and found it talked about in Michael's online journal a little. He went off to speak with him and Michael explained that a convergence was a gathering of power, in a sense, or ego, desiring resolution or closure to its long held objectives. Tension which has built up which desires its completion. And at the first convergence Satan was decimated by Michael. It wasn't even a contest,' said Dorachel somberly.
'Fascinating,' said Ariel. I really might have to look into that myself.'
'Would have thought you would have had your hands full with Daniel. I mean, you clean for him now, don't you. Run after him and all.'
'Shut up Dorrie,' said Ariel, somewhat embarrassed.
'The feminist of feminists, conquered by Daniel. How will you ever live it down. You know how much masculinist ego that one has. He will be gloating for aeons.'
'Don't I know it,' said Ariel, holding her head in her hands. 'But I love him, ok. I can't help myself. Delilah is somewhat lazy herself, and the place is usually quite untidy unless I bother. Just my lot in life.'
'Slave,' smirked Dorachel.
'Shaddup,' said Ariel. 'I'm not a bloody slave. I love him, and he is useless on his own. Give the guy a break.'
'At least Raguel does help out about the house. I should be grateful for that. But you should lecture Dan. Let him know his slack attitudes. I mean, come on. An eckist is supposed to have some sort of standards, and he has been in the congregation a terribly long time now.'
'I know,' replied Ariel. 'I'll speak to him, I guess. Eventually. But not now. Too many other things to worry about for the time being.'
'Ok. You know best. Well, I'm kind of hungry, so we'll order now, ok?'
Ariel nodded, and as Dorachel signalled the waiter, she thought on Dorries words and just how lazy Daniel could be. And, yes, she was a feminist. But she had been conquered. But she could live with that. Couldn't she? Couldn't she? They ate their meal, and said farewell, and as Ariel drove home, she thought perhaps she would take issue, and give Daniel a little piece of her mind. And may the Eck have mercy on his soul, she smirked to herself. But, thinking that, she almost hit the bumper of the car in front of her, and cursed her stupidity all the way home.
Ariel and Abaddon
'Oh, its creep central,' replied Ariel.
'You got any weed?' asked Abaddon.
'I don't smoke weed,' said Ariel, puffing herself up in pride.
'Well, I got some,' said Abaddon, and showed her a pack of marijuana he had in his coat pocket.
'You sure you should have that in here, idiot. It's barely legal you know. The community frowns on that stuff. Cops might come and hassle you.'
'I have my rights, sweetie. Technically, we are allowed, if it lies within our conscience to do as such. I have no guilt on the issue. People say they do. But they are hypocrites. Just like Michael and his supposed goodie two shoe ways. Total hypocrites. When it converged last time, we had been mocked by everyone. What, you think we gave a fuck? We tell people the facts. The facts about the tree of knowledge of good and evil, and we point out that we don't really choose as much evil as they fucking claim. We never did. We like to drink, to drugs, listen to rock and roll, and fuck whores. We don't pretend to be fucking saints, babe. But we defend our lifestyle, ok. We aint killing fucking anybody. And unlike some of your revered pastors, we don't molest kids. We are fucking normal.'
Ariel glared at him, but something in what he said ticked over a cog in her brain, and she sat down. 'Roll me one, creep.'
'Wised up I see,' said Abaddon.
They smoked for a while, and people in the cafe noticed it was weed, but nobody really commented or complained. When the waitress brought over another bottle of beer for Abaddon she commented that the boss didn't really mind, but only if Abaddon really had to. Abaddon smiled at the lady. It looked weird to Ariel, because the smile was somewhat affectionate.
'What is your gripe with Raguel?' asked Ariel.
'He don't smoke weed,' said Abaddon. 'One of the many things he fucken won't do. It's all that Eckist nonsense he is into these days. Not like the old days, when the Seraphim Torah guided him, and that was enough. Now he's got his own fancy shmancy religion, and your own moron is hanging around as well. Pisses us off because Eckankar is somewhat the flavour of the day in the Realm of Eternity. The only thing really opposing us at the moment. Jesus? Fuck he smokes weed all the fucken time these days. And Ambriel gets pissed regularly with Callodyn and Azrael and Cosadriel. Like they think sin is cool or something now. Like they don't follow their own fucking beliefs any more.'
'They do,' said Ariel softly. 'But they have always had a bit of liberty in their choices. God is not as all strict as you really might think. They'll go back to their faith one day, though. It works in cycles. That's the thing I have noticed about eternal life. There are seasons for things. One thing is in vogue at one time, but life moves on, inexorably, and fashions change. But they come round again, you know.'
'And we will have our time under the sun, one day babe.'
'Dream on,' she said, and puffed on the blunt.
'Raguel is the object of our, how shall I put it – affections,' said Abaddon with a grin.
'Asshole,' she replied.
'Be that as it may, Rags is one of the few keepers of the bloody faith at the moment. So we will test him and try him and have our fun. And when convergence approaches, we will see just how theophofag makes up his mind this time.'
'Don't blaspheme the theophany,' said Ariel.
'Whatever,' responded Abaddon.
'Good weed. I shouldn't really smoke it, but it's good stuff.'
'Only the best for the Saruvim,' said Abaddon.
'Yeh, right,' replied Ariel.
They chatted on for a while, and when Ariel got home she had more food for thought. Especially on the charge of hypocrisy. That was one thing Ariel generally believed she wasn't. But Abaddon had a point. He definitely had a point.
Dorachel and Doreen
'The Lightbringers. They are the chosen ones to prevent the Realm, and ultimately the world, to slip into the power of darkness. For at convergence, I fear Satan's influence now might just be enough to be granted authority. Michael is busy. All the time busy. And few care about faith and goodness and holiness anymore. So I come to you Dorachel, for your husband I have found, of all the angels, is one of the few extant spiritualists. Cherubim Daniel Daly is unreachable in his ministry to my influence and says he is more concerned with other realities, which shouldn't confuse my dear little head. Arrogant asshole. So I present to you the 'Eckist Lighbringers' as the only pathway of salvation which will pull us through at the approaching dark hour of decision.'
'How many have you following the organisation, Ms Virtue?'
'Several thousand now. They have all been personally spoken to by myself, all carefully studied, and all passed as fit and worthy for our work. We must redeem many, I feel. Many throughout the realm, to the standards again, or I fear God may just hand over authority to Satan. For he is that kind of God which says to your heart, if you don't care, I don't care. And that is exactly what I fear he will do.'
'I'll think about the offer, Dorachel. And I will discuss the idea with Raguel. We are mostly dedicated Eckists now you know, but Eckist Lightbringers – following Eckism with your own wisdom of Lightbringers – that could be fascinating.'
'Please consider it Dorachel. I feel your decision might be infinitely more important than you might even know.'
'I'll consider it,' replied Dorchel.
'Thank you,' said Doreen.
Later on that afternoon, Dorachel brought down from her upstairs archival library one of the books she had by Doreen Virtue on Angellic Power, and as she sat there reading, she was somewhat inspired by Doreens passionate words and passion for love and purity and things of goodness. It had always been a broader approach to faith, the teachings of Doreen, and she never really favoured any particular denomination or even just the Christian religion, but had been compatible with people of many faiths who believe in the power of God and Angels. Perhaps, now, with the influence and respect Eckism had in the Realm, a combined effort with the Lightbringers may just be the answer to combat the ever present power of the Saruvim. Keeping the faith, she thought to herself. Somebody had to do it in the end. Many claimed they did, but so often their works belied little true commitment. It seemed consistency lacked in so many apparent organisations of faith, and that they even seemed to have yielded to the power of the Saruvim. But Dorachel hadn't. She had an old faith, an ancient faith, and when things seemed to have slipped in Catholicism a long time ago, she and Raguel, who had been into Kabbalah, moved into Eckankar, which seemed to be actually strong then, and since had remained as such, a movement which had once been dismissed as a cult being the one thing which actually seemed to be consistent and keeping of faith in God in the long term. But the lightbringers had always been strong as well. Could the two be combined? Was such a thing possible? Could it really work in the real world?
As she sat there, absentmindedly watching the TV that afternoon, she pondered those thoughts, and when Raguel got home from work later that day, she kissed him, and spoke about Doreen's visit, and Raguel seemed to actually like the idea somewhat. And if that was a sign, then perhaps, just perhaps, that was what was meant to be.
Abaddon and the Saruvim
'It is – the Diabolaklycity,' said Abaddon dramatically.
'What the hell is the Diabolaklycity, asshole,' asked the Saruvim Semyazen to his brother Abaddon.
Abaddon removed the sheet covering what was revealed to be a strange looking gadget of some sorts.
'It is a spiritual control mechanism. It emits blasts of negative energy on spiritual wavelengths, enough to cause enough fucking depression to practically kill themselves.'
Satan looked at the object. 'Does it fucking work?'
'Sort of,' said Abaddon. 'It's frustrating technology, and my geek squad have been working on it for centuries now. They've studied the forbidden 'Laws of Spiritual Matter' by Maimonides, which apparently only advanced Rabbis should study. Freaky stuff really, but with the frequency of energy we are using we are able to cause people to get angry somewhat and a little depressed. We're still tinkering, and while you might think turning up the energy on it and making it better might get better results, it only broadens or enlarges the energy emitted, but doesn't strengthen it. It's about the same affect regardless. But with weak minds the affect can be stronger. It can fuck up heaps.'
'So you are going to target Raguel, then?' asked Semyazen.
'That's the idea. I've got a place rented down the street from his place. I have a machine there at the moment operating, directed towards them. Give it enough time, he'll crack. We'll get our victory.'
'Interesting,' said Satan. 'But I think we will need to rely on old fashioned methods in the end to gain the power we seek.'
'People are getting used to that, though,' said the Saruvim Lucifer. 'Even these days many of our Black Magic devotees have turned their lifestyles practically into a religion itself. Like they have values in what is freedom and self well. It's kinda depressing. And even the Church of Satan has rules which members have to follow now,' he finished.
'Don't fucking mention those heretics,' said Satan. 'No fucking idea at all. They are even members of the confraternity of Religious Assemblies. It sucks so bad.'
'Heh heh. Your a religion,' said Damien the Saruvim. 'Gonna preach?'
'You can preach on my fist if you keep that up,' replied Satan. He looked at the gadget. 'Good enough work, I guess. Hardly impressive, but it might have some decent results. Let us know how things go.'
'Will do,' said Abaddon, and started tinkering around with the machine.
When the Saruvim had fucked off to the pub, Abaddon was in his upstairs den, looking over the schematics for the Diabolaklycity. He had some idea, now, how the machine worked. But he was looking for something. Trying to figure something out. Maimonides book was very confusing, and he didn't understand anywhere near half the concepts, nor did his geek squad. It was deep. Mysterious. Shaded in rabbinic subtleties and knowledge. Cracking the work to the level they had attained so far had taken some heavy fucking concentrating from Abaddon, and that was not exactly his speciality. But he studied the machine, and thought through ideas and, if he could, he would find that missing link, that piece of the puzzle, which when it fell into place, really would give them the kind of power and control they sought. The kind which really could kick arse.
After a while he got bored, and went downstairs to get something to drink but, thinking it over, and knowing his brother's reputations, he decided to also fuck off to the pub, and drink his night away and, later, perhaps visit that red light place he knew so well. Yeh, that was something to do to kill the time. And thoughts of Diabolaklycities could wait till the morning, and dealing with the current obstacle in their way, one defiant Seraphim angel by the name of Raguel of Eternity.
Daniel and Abaddon
'Love is the answer, Abaddon,' said Daniel softly, drinking his caramel milkshake, Ariel seated next to him, Delilah down the front of 'Sharkview's' cafe, the regular cafe they all visited.
'Can you really see sharks from here?' asked Abaddon, in a civil tone, looking out from the window of the cafe down at the ocean beneath the rocky crag the cafe was situated atop.
'Yes,' said Ariel. 'You can. There are lots of them in the area around here. It is against the codes of practice for local beaches to allow swimming, apart from gentle wading in the first few metres of the shore. Sharks have rights here, as it is their communal gathering place for this part of the world. If you do go out swimming, which is technically legal, just against codes of practice, you are responsible for your own safety. The sharks, generally, have agreed to leave people alone, but they expect their waters to be respected. Unwelcome visitors may occasionally get a shock they aren't expecting.'
'We're like sharks,' said Abaddon. 'We have a bite which you wouldn't believe.'
'Oh, I believe it alright,' said Daniel. 'I've known your oppressions for a long time.'
'We've always liked you Danny boy. You and Valandriel. Think you both rule the world, you two. Ever since ancient days in the Realm.'
'Why do you even bother with the Realm of Eternity anyway? Shouldn't you want to go home to the Realm of Infinity up above.'
'We're barred. By Logos. We always have been, for the most part. Never tolerates us going home. We fell once. A long way. And we hit a rock. And there we stayed, literally forever, getting by on the moisture in the clouds occasionally around us, and not much else. God kept us alive. But then we fell, one by one, and found our new home.'
'I do remember,' said Daniel. 'And you have tormented us ever since.'
Abaddon looked at Daniel, shrugged, and took a chip from the plate of chips they were all sharing, and looked out at the waters. 'It's a nice view, you know. And were the fuck are we anyway? Satan did all the driving.'
'We're in Mitraphora,' said Ariel. 'Not too far from the rim with Terraphora. This is an Australian part of Mitraphora. Similar to the south east coast of New South Wales.'
'Yeh. Feels like it,' said Abaddon. 'Your kinda place, right, Danno.'
'Love is the answer Abaddon,' said Daniel softly.
'You said that punk,' responded Abaddon. 'Hey, bro. I love the chicks I fuck, and that will do me. Not a playschool kiddie who needs his nanny's attention all the time.'
'It's not just that kind of love,' said Daniel.
'I'll bet,' responded Abaddon.
They ate their chips in silence for a while, and Abaddon looked down the front of the cafe at Delilah. 'If I go talk to her, you won't get up the shit, will you?' Abaddon asked Daniel.
'Go ahead,' said Daniel, and Abaddon went off to talk with Delilah.
They sat there for a while, and Daniel sipped on his milkshake, while Ariel finished off her apple juice.
'The mindset of harshness, in many ways,' said Ariel. 'Sees the world through a certain perspective, and doesn't really care to change or improve it.'
'He likes his casuality,' said Daniel. 'Lack of responsibility for his actions. The easy freedoms the Saruvim maintain.'
'It doesn't work terribly well. If everyone was like that.'
'Not much would get done,' said Daniel. 'And whatever got done would often be done sloppily. A strict regime is often needed to run organisations and things. Slackness results in poor quality. And the Saruvim simply have a bloody slack attitude.'
'Which they have never really repented of,' replied Ariel.
'Which they couldn't really ever care of repenting of,' responded Daniel.
'Mmm,' she said, and sipped on her apple juice.
'He's not that evil though,' said Ariel.
'He's tolerable. In ways. Pleasant enough to talk to today, actually. Like there is an old soul in there which has probably learned some lessons over its long sojourn of life. Yes, I suppose he is not that evil.'
'Perhaps he needs the light and sound of God,' said Ariel.
'A vision of the Eck,' said Daniel smiling.
'Indeed,' she replied.
They continued their lunch, and later on, when Abaddon had disappeared, Daniel was back at home, thinking on his new adversary. He was not that evil, actually, he thought to himself. Not that evil. Mmm.
Daniel and Raguel & Abaddon
'A blue car. A red car. A white car. A bus. Another white car. A silver car. A black car. A van. A motorbike. Another bus.'
'Your bored, aren't you Daniel,' said Raguel. Daniel was in 'Sharkview Cafe' at the front, saying the colours and types of vehicles passing by the cafe.
'No. No, I'm not,' he said, and smiled sarcastically at Raguel.
'I'll bet, your really bored fuckless,' smirked Raguel.
Daniel sipped on his caramel milkshake, smiled at Raguel, and went back to counting cars.
'Ooh, that's new,' said Daniel. 'A moped thingy.'
'Fascinating,' said Raguel.
'It has been an interesting day,' said Daniel. 'No penny farthings yet, so you will probably lose your bet, but we'll wait and see.'
'Yes. You do that,' said Raguel.
Just then Abaddon came in the cafe, and grinned at the two of them. He ordered at the counter, and went and sat down the back.
'I'll bet your bored less now,' said Daniel to Raguel.
'You were the one who was bored,' said Raguel.
'Apparently,' said Daniel, looking down at Abaddon at the back of the cafe. 'Look. Why don't we go and talk to him. Talk some sense into him.'
'Go ahead. I think he's a cunt,' said Raguel, disinterested.
Daniel glared at his bro. 'Hardly a good attitude, mate.'
'You think,' said Raguel, taking issue. 'That the Saruvim have anything at all approaching a good attitude.'
'I don't fucken know,' said Daniel. 'Why don't we go fucken see,' he said, with dry sarcasm.
'Fine,' said Raguel, and stood, and walked with Daniel to the back of the cafe and sat down opposite Abaddon.
'Hey. Abs,' said Daniel.
'Well if it isn't the dynamic duo. Buttman and Rogerer,' said Abaddon, grinning madly.
'Cool,' said Daniel. 'And that makes you the Jokester, I suppose.
'Perfect,' replied Abaddon.
'You,' said Raguel. 'Need a bloody life. Once upon a time, I have been told, the Saruvim were actually regular angels. Lived in the Realm of Infinity and did regular angel things. Then they went fucking nuts, turned into bad boys, started partying, and soon enough were booted out by Logos.'
'We raped a chick. One of the Celestyels,' said Abaddon.
'Well you got what you deserved then, didn't you,' said Raguel sarcastically.
'Yep. I suppose so,' said Abaddon.
The waitress came over and served Abaddon his hamburger and fries and coke. Abaddon nodded to her, and started on his meal.
'What do you really want?' asked Raguel.
Abaddon looked at Raguel from eating his meal, and, finishing his chewing very deliberately, opened his glass bottle of coca cola, sipped on it, and put it down, and looked at Raguel.
'We can make it a lot easier, you know.'
'How so?' asked Raguel.
'I don't know. Come over to my place. Party with me for a while. You will see I'm not that bad a dude. Relax you know. Smoke some weed with me. You too Dan. Chill. That's all I ask of you bro.'
Raguel looked at him, perplexed. 'I don't smoke weed,' he finally said, and looked away frustrated.
'No. You don't, do you,' said Abaddon.
'I smoke weed. Occasionally. But I don't indulge,' responded Daniel. 'Me and Rags are willing to come over and have a bit of a party. If you want to put on some hard rock, we can chill a bit.'
'Perfect,' said Abaddon. 'How about Motley Crue.'
'I think Def Lepppard. Or Bon Jovi might be a better choice,' replied Daniel.
'Gun's n Roses, perhaps?' queried Abaddon.
'Fine,' said Raguel suddenly. 'Let's go.'
'Awesome,' said Abaddon.
* * *
'She's hot, isn't she,' said Abaddon. It was a prostitute Abaddon had dialed up and had come around. She was half naked, and willing to go with any of them.
'You do her,' said Raguel. 'I'm married.'
'I don't cheat either,' said Daniel.
'It's no problems, blokes,' said Abaddon. 'I got off earlier today. You can both have her if you like.'
Guns n Roses were playing in the background, and they were at Abaddon's pad in town.
'Yeh, well ok then,' said Daniel, looking carefully at Raguel. 'But don't you have her after me,' said Daniel to Raguel. 'That would be disgusting.'
'Fine,' said Raguel.
Abaddon glared at Daniel for a moment, but then checked himself, as Daniel was also part of the plan to corrupt as well, though less of a concern than Raguel.
Daniel and the prostitute disappeared off to the other room, leaving Abaddon and Raguel staring at each other.
'You should relax. Come and smoke some weed with me now,' said Abaddon.
'Sure. Why the fuck not, then,' said Raguel.
They went into the main living room, and Abaddon pulled out some weed from the TV cabinet, and passed a joint to Raguel, who lit it and started smoking.
'It's good,' said Raguel. 'Very mellow.'
'Hey, its fucken expensive stuff,' said Abaddon. 'Chinese. Cost's a shitload.'
'I'll bet,' said Raguel, now starting to relax a little.
'I'll put on some porn,' said Abaddon, and picked up a remote, and flicked some buttons. Soon an X Rated scene was on the TV screen and Raguel, despite himself, let himself enjoy it.
Abaddon looked at his quarry. Things were going well. Definitely going well.
'So just relax, dude. You will see we are not so bad at all. Easy to get along with, in fact.'
'Sure,' said Raguel, smoking his weed.
A little while later, Daniel and the prostitute re-appeared.
Abaddon grinned a little at the look on Daniel's face, and turned to Raguel. 'Sure you don't want her, bloke.'
'I'm sure,' said Raguel, but was almost tempted.
Abaddon looked at Raguel smoking the weed and watching porn, and glanced for the shortest moment up above towards God in heaven.
'Why don't you go now,' said Daniel to the girl. 'And you were great.'
She looked at Abaddon, who indicated she should fuck off. 'The money is in the usual place by the door,' said Abaddon to the girl. 'See you soon enough.' And she left.
Daniel sat down, and started watching the porn.
'She was good, then?' asked Abaddon.
Daniel smiled at him. 'The best.'
Abaddon grinned. Objective accomplished.
* * *
Later on, as they were driving back to Daniel's place, Raguel looked at his brother. 'So. You were unfaithful.'
Daniel grinned. 'Hardly. I got the girl to give me a massage, and asked her to promise me not to say anything otherwise to Abaddon. She just gave me a massage, and that was that.'
'Oh,' said Raguel. 'Well, good then.'
'I'm not going to cheat now,' said Daniel. 'Love my two wives too much. Ok. Just the way it is.'
'I didn't mind the weed. But I won't do that again for years. Just the rarest smoke of the stuff.'
'It's a natural product. Don't abuse it, and God probably doesn't have an issue,' said Daniel.
'That's what I think too,' replied Raguel.
And so, after a rockin night out, the two of the returned home, not really in any way corrupted at all, actually. And, despite a happy enough Abaddon thinking the Saruvim were getting ahead somewhat, life went, much as usual in the Realm of Eternity, and nobody really lost any sleep on the issue anyway.
A Prayer to God
'God. I ask of you, the Eck. If you are willing, to transform a life. A life, I guess, fallen in many ways. A Saruvim life. Give this life a Vision of the Eck, a vision which will change its attitude. Give it a vision which is so strong, so powerful, that what evil it holds in side will simply melt away, simply be obliterated, by your amazing power. Bring light to the life of this darkened soul, and through your Spirit, renew it to its faith of ancientness, before it fell, before it succumbed to the power of temptation. God, I ask of you, redeem, correct, realign, re-purpose, and purify Abaddon of the Saruvim and, ultimately, renew him to the life of his lost innocence, through an impossibly powerful act of your benevolent grace. Amen.'
Raguel got up off his knees, sat back down on the couch, and sighed. The prayer had now been done.
'So the lightbringers of Eckism are forming, and want me as their spiritual leader,' Raguel put to Dorachel.
'You are trusted in the realm at the moment, Rags. So many of the angelic Seraphim and Cherubim have a too casual permissiveness in this time and age, and they are looking for an angel to lead them who will stand firm under pressure.'
Suddenly Raguel felt a little guilty for his weed smoking at Abaddon's place the other day.
'I thought we were comfortable with Eckankar, sweetie. This sounds almost like a hybrid of sorts.'
'Perhaps. But Lightbringers should be part of Eckism, ultimately, don't you think. They teach angelic truths which have always been known, and the message of peace and love and unity never goes out of fashion. They are Eckist ideals also,' she put to him.
'True,' he said. 'I am quite comfortable in our current congregation you know.'
'Which means its time for a change,' she replied.
He smiled at her. 'You will only argue this out for eternity until I budge, won't you.'
'Very well. They can have me. But what do I do?'
'Lead them. Familiarise yourself with the basic agenda of bringing a renewal of God's love & light into the Realm, and be the purest beacon of that love and light you possibly can.'
'I've just prayed a prayer,' he said, smiling to her.
'Then you will pray again. And submit. Let God have his way.'
'As you wish,' replied Raguel the Seraphim to his twin.
'Good,' she replied. 'And as for Abaddon, this is sort of the whole point anyway. The stronger you are. The stronger we all our in passion for the heart of the light and sound of God, the purer the angelicness within us, as Convergence approaches, the more likely God will choose the status quo. And, for a big part of it, that is really what it is all about.'
'I know,' replied Raguel. 'I know.'
She kissed him on the cheek, and stood, and went off to the kitchen. 'Chicken for dinner?' she yelled out.'
'Fine,' he responded. He sat there, thinking on those words of his twin's, and how God had found his fidelity and that, in that fidelity, strangely enough, he was now ultimately called upon to stand for life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness. Or something like that, he chuckled to himself.
The first Universal Conference of the Eckist Lightbringers was under way in Terraphora. The gathering had gone through a number of introductory rights, and a new speaker had hit the stage. Sparklus Durander, a Ketravim Angel.
He began. 'When I became an angel I was granted a Ketravim wish. All human's chosen to become Ketravim angels are granted such a wish. I asked God to manifest, through me, the power of the light and sound of God. For I was a practicing Eckist, loyal to the faith. So, BEHOLD!'
Sparklus put forth his hands towards the audience and, emanating from the, the beginnings of a spectacular, almost firework like, display of light and sound and colour. It was intense. The show went on for five minutes, and their were gasps of adulation for Sparklus god given talent. It was amazing to many. Finally the show ended, he bowed, and Doreen Virtue came back on stage.
'Welcome. Welcome everyone to the first universal Conference of the Eckist Lightbringers. It is such a pleasure to see you all.' The audience cheered, quite happy that Doreen herself was present. 'Our way, the way of the Lightbringer, has been celebrated for an eternity of eternity's now. We are so much a part of the community and accepted, that we must remember, and not forget, we are brining the light of the love of God to that community. The light of the power of angels, such as Sparklus before us. But, more than that. We, those of us gathered here, are a new outcrop of work. A work of God. A work of the holy Eck. We are the Eckist Lightbringers, because, as has become apparent to all of us, the faiths of the community, to a degree, are floundering somewhat. Yet Eckankar has stood firm. So we have joined, and begun a new ministry which might, just might, in time, bring that new touch of divine glory to the lives of eternity for those who, yet again, need to touch of and feel the mercy and Graces of God. Thank you.'
The audience cheered, and Harold Klemp took the stand.
'Eckism is strong,' began Harold. 'But the Lightbringers are amongst those who have not shirked in their duties. It is true, that I do know, that many congregations are still keeping the faith, amongst the many and varied religions of God, yet, they are struggling somewhat. Let, in this new endeavour, the power of pride not overcome us, but the power of grace and mercy to rekindle, once more, the power of the Eck in the lives of the children of God to renew them to faith and practice and renew them to love and grace. Thank you.'
The audience cheered again, and Raguel took the stand.
'Greetings.' They cheered. 'It seems, I have been chosen. Chosen to lead and strengthen. I am not, perhaps, as grand as you all might expect................' he was suddenly interrupted.
'Probably quite pathetic really,' yelled a voice which had just come into the conference room.
Raguel looked, and there, including Abaddon, were the 7 Saruvim. How wonderful. And it was Satan who had yelled out.
'We have guests,' Raguel said to the audience. 'Why don't everyone give a warm clap for Satan and his brothers.'
The audience gave a lukewarm clap, and a buzz started around the room.
'Are you sure your their best choice?' yelled Satan. 'I mean, don't you like the drugs a bit too much. And the expensive ladies. And probably a whole host of fun pastimes.'
Faces looked at Raguel.
'Hey, it's sin city for you, ain't it?' yelled out Satan. 'Come on, get real. You like to party with the best of us. Don't you?'
Raguel looked uncomfortable. And then he looked at Abaddon, who looked a little uncomfortable at Raguel's stare. Almost, almost as if he felt impossibly guilty for a saruvim.
'Your a joke, aren't you?' queried Satan.
Raguel finally responded. 'Thanks, Satan. For your kind words.' Raguel looked at the audience. 'He is right. There, I said it. I do like to party with the rest of them. I am not sure if what he is saying that I do, I really practice all of it, but yes. I like a good time. But I think, in all honesty my friends gathered here today, I know when to call it a day. I know when to not let the party get out of hand. And even Eckist Lightbringers can have an occasional good time. It's all a matter of knowing the line you shouldn't cross, I think.'
Satan glared at him, and Abaddon looked up at him. There was almost an apologetic look on his face. He didn't like this now. Something had – changed – in him.
Satan came up to the stand, and looked at Raguel and motioned with his hands that he would like the speaker. Raguel handed it over.
'He might be right, friends. But I guess you take your chances with one like Raguel. One we know, oh, so well,' he said grinning.
Then he handed back the speaker, jumped back down off the stage, and motioned to the Saruvim to leave with him.
When they had gone everyone looked at Raguel. He, really, had nothing to say. What on earth could he? What on earth could he?
'He put you through the shit, didn't he,' said Daniel to Raguel later after the conference.
'Did you notice Abaddon,' said Raguel softly.
Daniel looked at his brother.
'I noticed Abaddon,' said Raguel. 'Believe me, I noticed him.'
Daniel and Raguel & Abaddon 2
'I think, we need a break,' said Daniel. Daniel, Raguel & Delilah were at Sharkview cafe, chatting.
'Sounds good,' said Raguel. 'After that joke of a conference, I need to getaway. Get bloody Abaddon and his gang off my mind.'
'Speak of the devil,' said Daniel, as Abaddon came into the caf.
Abaddon sat down casually next to them. 'How's it hanging, dudes. Cool conference or what?'
'Why are you such a dickhead?' Raguel asked Abaddon.
'They way God lovingly made me,' responded Abaddon sarcastically. 'With slugs and snails and puppy dog tails.'
'Definitely,' responded Raguel.
'Calm down,' said Daniel to Raguel, who was a little agitated.
'You were a jerk,' said Raguel.
Abaddon looked at him, and felt, again, a little guilt.
'Fuck, you know dudes. It's not like we're besties or anything.'
'No, I guess not,' said Daniel.
Again, Abaddon felt a little guilty.
'You know,' began Raguel. 'In the end, we are just normal people. You seem to think that your casual lifestyle is somehow the the epitome of existence, but we choose a different way. We like to have a little more mature standards, ok. We're bloody normal. Why such a bloody gripe from you guys, Abaddon?'
'Fine, fine. Assholes,' said Abaddon. But inside he was not being so cocky.
Abaddon looked at Delilah down the front, and looked at Daniel. 'Can I talk with the chick?' he asked, indicating Delilah.
'Go ahead,' said Daniel.
Abaddon said 'Later, dudes,' and went over and greeted Delilah, who seemed to respond to him very positively.
'I don't know. Perhaps we're getting through to him,' said Raguel.
'Maybe,' said Daniel, looking at Abaddon sweet talk his woman.
'Well, I think you're right,' said Raguel. 'Time to get away for a break.'
Daniel looked at Abaddon hitting it off with Delilah. 'I guess so, Rags,' he finally responded.
The Vision of the Eck
All that morning Abaddon couldn't fight the feeling. Something about today. Something strange. Something new. The machine was stationed, just hidden in some shrubs near a palm tree, just up the beach from the holiday shanty the 2 couples were staying in. And Raguel had it focused on the shanty constantly, and was grinning all the while. And then Raguel, Daniel, Dorachel and Ariel all came out into the sun, and were lying on the beach, just in front of him. He focused the ray, and Raguel, after a moment, heaved up and vomited. Dorachel tried her best to comfort him, and he said he felt better again. Abaddon focused the ray once more, and was about to turn a lever to amp up the power, but stopped. For once, for once, in the life of a Saruvim of Infinity, he stopped. Because he was thinking about Raguel. And about the simple fact that the cunt, really, was not that much of a dickhead in the end anyway. And that, despite him being a religious freak, he sort of liked him. So he stopped, and, after a moment, turned of the machine, and sat there, looking at them.
'I'm a dickhead,' he said to himself. 'I'm just a dickhead. He's an innocent kid. He doesn't need this shit.'
'And why would a Saruvim Care?' a voice of the infinite suddenly said to his heart.
'Fuck. I fucking don't,' responded Abaddon instinctively.
Suddenly, a kaleidoscope of colour and light appeared in the skies above Abaddon, and divine music was all around, and it came down to him, and appeared right in front of him.
It said to him. 'Are you ever really sorry?'
And Abaddon, suddenly very sad, just nodded softly.
The Eck touched him, and caressed his heart, and a change was made. And an atonement was complete.
4 weeks later, Daniel was with Raguel down on the beach in front of Sharkview cafe.
'Life. It seems good, now,' said Raguel. 'Something has lightened up. I feel better.'
'Then that is good,' said Daniel, smiling.
'I think, now, I can even defeat you in our favourite event,' responded Raguel.
'Which is?' queried Daniel.
Raguel took a sip of cola, and proceeded to belch for about 15 seconds.
'Not bad,' said Daniel. 'Pass me the coke.' Raguel passed it to Daniel.
Daniel sipped on it, and then smiled at Raguel. Then he belched for nearly 45 full seconds, and handed him back the can.
Raguel remained silent for a moment. Then, finally.
'Your still a dickhead.'
'Touche,' responded the 45th of the Seraphim Males of Eternity.
Nothing Else Remains
'Beware the fire reigns, were nothing else remains,' said Abaddon in his old Saruvim intensity.
'Very funny,' responded Raguel. 'Listening to Poisonblack again, are you?'
'What would you suggest,' said Abaddon, as he stirred sugar into his coffee at Sharkview Cafe.
'Oh, I don't know. Mika maybe?'
'The Lord of the Homo's? I don't think so,' grinned Abaddon.
'He's not actually gay,' said Raguel.
'Apparently. Got any other suggestions?'
'Maybe, Nikki Webster,' said Raguel smiling with one of those hopeful looks.'
'For fuck's sake. A devil can only tolerate so much progress at once. You'll have me down in Kindergarten next colouring in unicorns and rainbows.'
'Well, actually,' said Raguel.
'For fuck's sake,' said Raguel, shaking his head.
At the front of the cafe, Daniel was sitting with his wife Delilah.
'Now, your sure the hot cock of Abaddon the Saruvim doesn't tickle your fancy?' inquired Daniel carefully.
'He's ok,' she said smiling. 'But there's only one phallus for me.'
'And whose is that?' asked Daniel coyly.
She came over, reached down, and grabbed his manhood. 'This meat,' she said, and gave him a quick kiss.
'Perhaps Madonna then?' asked Raguel.
'Better,' responded Abaddon. 'But I think I'll stick with Poisonblack.'
'Sure then. Well, we'll introduce them to the congregation. We have some lads who like it a bit heavy. We can accommodate Poisonblack well enough. If you insist.'
Abaddon sipped on his coffee. 'I'll give that Nikki Webster a listen. She's hot enough. And I don't mind Mika, actually, if you must know. He is somewhat cool enough. I do know he likes the ladies. Just not sure what else he might like.'
'A very private man, apparently,' replied Raguel. 'But if your into both of them, which our congregation is, I'll see if we can arrange a concert for all three acts. Talk them into fellowshipping with us for a while.'
Sure,' replied Abaddon, and sipped on his coffee.
And the last few months Abaddon had ceased being a lord of the dark. There had been a change in him. A vision of the Eck which had rebirthed him to an ancient lifestyle he had known in the early years of his Saruvimhood, in the Realm of Infinity. And now, those he had been sent to destroy had become his saviours, and he was mixing with the newborn Eckist Lightbringers of all things, and finding his new identity with them.
'The Music of the Soul is fundamental to our lives,' said Raguel. 'We are the religion of the Light of God as Eckists. But we are also the religion of the Sound of God. And sounds are also an incredible influence upon our realities. Even heavy metal we will listen to, depending on just what it represents in the end.'
'Gotcha,' said Abaddon, taking in that information.
'So you'll be loyal forever?' Daniel asked Delilah.
'Well, possibly,' said Delilah. 'Forever is a long time you know. But I'll be around for the next few thousand years at least I would say.'
'Then all is good,' said Daniel, and took a sip on his Coca Cola.
'Metallica as well. If you must. But some softer options would really help, you know,' said Raguel.
'I'll see what I can do,' responded Abaddon. 'Go shopping soon. Look for some lighter options.'
'That would be wonderful,' replied Raguel the Seraphim.
And, as the Music of the Soul was discussed, a lighter tone shone forth from Sharkview Cafe, and new beginnings flowed onwards, new destinies birthed even now.
Christforce, Torah Brigade and the Saruvim Daredevil's
Jenna was pregnant. Jesus twin, Jenna the Cherubim, was pregnant to her twin, and about to deliver. Apostle Luke was with Jesus in the waiting room, and Jesus was walking about nervously biting his teeth.
'Hey, if its a boy, call him after me,' said Luke.
Jesus smiled at the Gospel author and nodded. 'Sure buddy.'
The wait was long. 18 hours, and then the nurse ushered Jesus in.
'It's a boy,' said Jenna, who looked exhausted. 'What shall we call him?' she asked, as she presented her son to his father.
Jesus looked down at his latest treasure. 'Luke. We will call him Luke.'
'Luke Ben Yeshua,' she said. 'Perfect.' Jesus smiled.
Later on in the year, Jesus was in the throneroom of Zaphon, sitting on the outer seats, thinking. And then the flame, a perpetual blue, turned red for a while. And God spoke.
'LUKE. YOUR CHILD. HE IS A SARUVIM. SEE THAT HE KNOWS HIS COMMUNITY.'
Jesus looked up at the throne, and noticed the flickering rarity of red, but it turned blue very quickly again, and God no longer spoke.
When Luke had finished his course of studies at the Global Space Designs Institute, he knew what he wanted to do. In his father's honour. 'The Christforce,' he said to his dad.
'What's it all about?' asked Jesus of Nazareth.
'A space core. We patrol the realm and offer protection to the world. We love dad. And we intercede against evil, because it just seems to live on and on.'
'Then you have my blessing for Christforce,' said Jesus proudly.
A few centuries later Christforce was up and running with Christians from the Saruvim Angel community. They were missionaries of love and peace, but warriors of Justice also. And the new players in the game soon came into contact with the emerging Saruvim army of Starpower. Radiel's bunch. And it was then the rivalry began.
The Saruvim Daredevil's
'You know, Valderann,' said Caltek to his Saruvim friend. 'Christforce sounds like an earthly 1980s B Grade Christian band.'
Valderann chuckled. 'Hey, at least they are not named after a petrol company.'
'Shut up. It's Caltek. Not ruddy Caltex. I don't know how many times I have pointed that out to you, son of Valderdash.'
'Valandriel. His name is Valandriel. The Seraphim you know. 12th born of the Seraphim. Not like your stupid dad Danfart, 45th in line. Come on. That's pathetic. He's not even really an Archangel. There is only really 12 of them you know.'
'Bite me, Valderdash,' responded Caltek.
The Saruvim best buddies, sons of, indeed, Valandriel and Daniel the Seraphim, were in the cafeteria of Terraphon keep, eating a meal. They were young, in their 20s, and were working out what they wanted to do in life. Their father's had arranged some early studies at the ancient school of Terraphora, which had cost them an enormous tuition fee, but they could afford it.
Caltek looked forward, eating his hamburger, thinking. 'You know. Why don't we do that? What Luke is doing. And Radiel as well. Why don't we form our own Space Fleet'
'What do we call ourselves?' asked Valderann.
'I don't know. The Saruvim Daredevil's maybe. Something exciting. Not predictably boring like Lord Kalphart and Christtwit.'
'Sounds good. May as well. Something to do. Might make us good cash. I can afford that place in Mitraphora I want, maybe, eventually,' replied Valderann.
'Steep prices, dude. Mitraphora. It'll be an aeon or two before you will have half the amount for a deposit,' replied Caltek.
'I can wait,' said Valderann.
'Right,' said Caltek, and munched on his burger.
After a while. 'Well, we'll do it then? Saruvim Daredevil's?' asked Caltek.
'Sure. Why not. Just don't get us into any trouble.'
'Would I do that?' asked Caltek, feigning perfect innocence.
'Were do I start,' replied Valderann.
And so the plan was made, and the plan was set, and the Saruvim Daredevil's had been born.
Desdrael and Chantel
Desdrael was the 57th Seraphim Male of the Realm of Eternity. His twin was Chantel, the 57th Female Seraphim of the Realm of Eternity. Desdrael was, in many ways, a longsuffering soul. He had not found his meaning in life. It had always been the fundamental flaw in the nature of Desdrael – he didn't know what to do with himself. Chantel his twin had bemoaned his lack of direction age upon age, lifetime upon lifetime it seemed as well, from distant memory. She encouraged him to finally choose his glory if God would not visit an answer upon him, which he never seemed to do. Instead, Desdrael remained a prince in Luxembourg in Terraphora, were they had remained almost perpetually since the rebirth, and there they stayed, and lived their lives, and that was seemingly that. He couldn't choose, so he just did what he had been created for, and not much else. Luxembourg ran itself well enough now, it had aeons of experience after all and, with very little new citizens now, very settled souls the hallmark of the Luxembourg way of life, Desdrael had grown used to patterns of behaviour which were well familiar. They didn't change much. They didn't really do anything new. Yet, never really anything that exciting anyway.
Chantel had a collection of romance novels. 127 to be precise, and she never yearned for another one. She read them in routine all year round, and it was her life, now, in many ways. Always thinking about her lovers in their worlds, and what they might have done, and what they should have done. Desdrael, for the most part, read about 70 or so fantasy works, and that is likewise what he stuck with. They read, watched the same television programs usually, played a little indoor cricket on the same 'Royal Team', which was mildly competitive, and that was that pretty much. But they had settled. And now, after an aeon of life, Desdrael was finally starting to get the point from God for the wisdom God would teach Desdrael. It was just life in the end, and it didn't matter what you did in the end. Better to settle into routine, and enjoy it for what it was. And so that is what they did. And, now, after all this time, starting to actually enjoy it and get the point of it all.
'Another sausage?' asked Chantel.
Desdrael held his midriff but nodded anyway.
'The team should do well this weekend,' she said in regards to the indoor cricket team they played on. 'Sloggers are never that competitive,' regarding a low placed division team in the national competition. It was the half year knockout tournament, and they had a good draw this time.
'We should never really underestimate them,' said Desdrael.
'I know,' replied Chantel. 'You know, perhaps we could do something different this time. Why don't I pair with Jelda. It would be a change.'
Desdrael looked at his wife seriously. 'We, we never bat with anyone else. It's you and me forever, right?'
'Something new,' she offered.
He bit into his sausage and looked at her. 'I'll think about it.'
'Do that,' she said.
He enjoyed his sausage, and looked at the newspaper. 'Christforce? Are they really serious about that name?'
'Why not?' replied Chantel.
'It's a bit lame, don't you think?'
'It's alright,' she replied. 'I'd like to see you do that, though. Design a spacefleet.'
'Luxembourg has a perfectly good airforce,' said Desdrael dismissively.
'Yes,' replied Chantel softly.
And then a rare thing. A new idea hit the mind of the 57th of the Seraphim. He looked at his wife. 'Say that again?'
'What?' she asked him.
'Design a spacefleet.'
'Well, yes,' she said. 'Why not.'
'What about me, Michael and Ambriel. We'll form Torah Brigade. Have a bit of fun with that.'
'Ooh,' replied Chantel, looking at her man. 'That would be exciting.'
'Yes. Yes it would, wouldn't it.'
She stood, went to the kitchen, and brought back the frying pan. 'Another sausage.'
'Fuck it. Why not,' he replied.
'Your language,' she said.
'And you might get some tonight,' winked Desdrael at his bride.
Chantel thought on her romance novels. 'Finally,' she thought to herself. It had been quite a wait. And she did get some that evening. And, for once, it had been worth the wait.
Callodyn and Kayella X: Dawn of the 'Torah Brigade'
'You know, it really is a kinda pathetic name,' said Callodyn. 'Christforce. Sounds like a dodgy pentecostal power movement which has 3 pages of doctrine and not much else.'
'Very funny,' replied Kayella.
'I mean, come on. Christforce? What the hell where they thinking?'
'At least they are tackling real problems in the universe. They are very polite and spread a message of love.'
'Same old game as his dad's,' replied Callodyn. 'This second lamb is hardly original.'
'Second lamb?' she asked him.
'It's what they now call him. The second lamb of God. Supposedly the 'Second Book of Revelation' has been written by the Apostle John, prophesying future events.'
'Seriously?' she asked him.
'I have it on order online. Should be here in a few days.'
'Fascinating,' she replied.
'Oh, I've read that already,' said Loquiel, looking at the two of them from the couch. 'Similar to the first work in many ways. Different stylings of beasts, and not quite as heavy mind you, but he's got new ideas. And the second lamb shall be involved in the 'Great Confrontation' which will 'Shatter his soul,' which they call the second slaying.'
Callodyn looked at Loquiel. 'Really? Sounds very interesting indeed. I'll look forward to my copy.'
'Why don't you join Christforce,' said Kayella to Callodyn.
'Too busy,' replied Callodyn. 'Not a Christian either. Nor a Saruvim.'
'He'll join Torah Brigade instead,' asserted Loquiel the Seraphim confidently. 'Ambriel has already asked me to join. Wants all the Seraphim on the team, and the Cherubim if he can get them.'
'What the heck is Torah Brigade?' asked Callodyn.
'Seraphim Desdrael's idea. Match Starpower and Christforce. The elite of the elite, though. Desdrael plans on being the best in the business.'
'You've joined it?' asked Kayella.
'Certainly. Something to do, you know. Oh, I'm happy at Zaphon. Been there forever now, you know. Organising activities for the Zaphon Tower community. But a change would be good.'
'Torah Brigade,' said Callodyn to himself.
'I don't like that look,' said Kayella. 'It's not good when Callodyn has that look. Means a brain cell is finally at work.'
'Shaddup,' said Callodyn, and returned to his thinking.
'Could be an exciting change,' said Loquiel. 'A reboot for those of us who get involved. A fresh start.'
'Fascinating,' replied Kayella. 'But leave Callodyn out of it. Him and Daniel will think they are the elite of the elite of the elite.'
'Of the elite,' finished Callodyn smiling.
'In your dreams,' smirked Kayella.
'Yep, in my dreams,' replied Callodyn, whose mind had suddenly become full of them.
'Listen 'Hotshit' Rothchild. Your scum, I tell you. Scum. Worse than rabied dog's testicles.'
'Yes General Daly,' replied Ambriel dutifully.
'Get that smirk off your face, officer. Your barely fit for tending the latrines in my opinion, let alone being in charge of our number one Star Warrior. And why do they call you Hotshit anyway?'
'Coz I'm Hotshit, boss. In the Brigade. Number one starfighter, and I kick ass, boss.'
'I don't like the sound of the pride in your voice,' continued General Daniel Daly, Daniel the Seraphim of Eternity. 'Your not Hotshit until I call you Hotshit. Is that understood.'
'Yes General Daly,' replied Ambriel.
'Well,' said Daniel, looking over Ambriel's uniform. 'You'll pass I suppose.' Ambriel, in fact, looked immaculate in his uniform, his boots shinier than Meludiel's arse, according to the sniggers of may of the other Seraphim.
Ambriel left off, and wandered over to Michael on his bunk.
'Busting your balls again, is he Hotshit?' asked Michael.
'General Daly is doing his job. It's not easy being first in Command in Torah Brigade under Lord Valandriel. Lord Valandriel is very fussy.'
'How they got the job......' said Michael, shaking his head.
'Theophany must be wiser than us,' responded Ambriel. 'He sees the heart of man.'
'Or has a sense of humour,' responded Michael. 'Anyway, General Desdrael didn't seem to complain, so the way it goes, I suppose.'
'The way it goes,' said Hotshit.
Torah Brigade was up and running. Desdrael had first gone to Zaphon throneroom, where the Theophany had shown up and instructed him on the top hierarchy of the organisations. It was a permanent thing, Torah Brigade, so God would have his say. And that had been that.
'Meludiel and Elenniel are coming over tonight,' said Michael. 'Can you get a nightpass?'
'It was cleared,' said Ambriel. 'Excellent service.'
'Then tonight we fly,' said Michael.
'Tonight we fly,' responded Ambriel, looking forward to seeing his woman after so long high'n'dry.
Desdrael and Aime
'Yes, Aime. Torah Brigade is running smoothly now,' replied Desdrael to Aime Palliere's question.
'That is good. And I see that it is the Noahides who are in charge. That is not surprising, it would seem.'
'Aime. That is an ancient issue between us now. We are Catholic, ultimately, I would think. I have always thought our faith from our youth would never die and it hasn't, in either you or me. But we are those who have accepted the teachings of the Noachide Covenant, and perhaps we should accept that that is the authority with God. He honours his first covenant first and foremost. The nature of things.'
'Yes,' replied Aime. 'Rabbi Benamozegh has suggested similar ideas over the ages. Well, it has been good catching up. You promised midnight mass in Lyons this upcoming year. Will you and Chantel still be able to attend?'
'That should be ok. I'm quite and very busy now, as you could understand, for Torah Brigade is in many ways my first consuming passion. But I will not miss the service.'
'Then we shall again depart the best of friends,' replied Aime, and kissed Desdrael on the cheek and left the office of the Torah Brigade General.
Desdrael sat there for a while, in the quiet of the afternoon, and turned to look out on the camp's training yards. There were a few Seraphim out there even at the moment, and thousands of Cherubim, still in new training, for recruitment was still going on to the oldest of the angels of the Realm of Eternity, and not all yet had joined, some being very difficult to persuade, Raphael especially, who was locked up tight at Mitraphon in an age long devotion to God and spirituality which had captured his soul. No time for such shenanigans, the email response had come back to him. But, in the end, it was not necessary to claim the whole fleet. Not at this time anyway. Who knows, maybe one day, at the end of the world, they would all unite, and the Saruvim of Infinity would oppose them, and it would be the final great battle. But that was fantasy of the Second Revelation of John, the new work, and probably shouldn't be taken too seriously. Should it?
He sat there, quietly, and sipped on his now cold tea. But he didn't mind. Life was good, now. Life was good. He had settled, finally, after so long, happy with his life at last, but then, just when he had settled, adventure. Brand new adventure. Very strange, the ways of life. Very strange, the wisdom of God. He thought on his friend Aime, and wished him well, and would indeed see him at Midnight Mass this year. But till then, it was work to do, and thinking that, turned to his desk, looked at some papers, and started signing off documents. Life was good for Desdrael. He had found meaning. A happy and content purpose, to see out his days, and to find, in the end, something useful to do. Simply that. Something useful to do.
'One thing,' said the ancient Catholic priest. 'There was something we noticed, which your mother never knew. Down on your ankle. Faint. But it was noticed. Another number. This time, not a six.'
Saruviel paused, then, for the first time in an aeon, and slowly raised his head from his meal to look at his old catholic mentor. 'Another number?'
'Yes. Not a 6. On another part of the body, but distinctly a numeral. So, If you'll excuse me, Mr Darvanius, I will be going.'
'Uh, sure,' said Alexander. 'Oh. What number?'
The Catholic priest gave him a long, hard look. Then walked off.
He heard it though, just before the priest left the room. Whispered. 'A 4 you idiot.'
And then he was gone.
And Saruviel had been redeemed.
The Saruvim Damien. Also known as Alexander Bradlock. He had a middle name. Nicolae. This was taken from his maternal grandfather's name, Nicolae Damien Carpathia, who in turn inherited it from his maternal grandfather's middle name, old Robert Nicolae Thorn. Old Robert also had a son called Damien, and Alexander had always been fond of that old devil, with his quirky sense of humour. Rich blood, in a very rich Bradlock family. The adopted son of the family in a way, Alexander Darvanius, old Saruviel of Eternity, was in fact born to John Bradlock, Damien's father, but this was not well known. He had been a bastard son, which Damien always smiled at. Damien, in an old plan of the Saruvim's, labelled by Satan in an occurrence in the realm of eternity, had officially been called the Antichrist. But Saruviel had worn that moniker for so long, the traditional adversary of Jesus of Nazareth. But Damien always knew better. He knew were his 3 sixes were. He had been told. Birthmarks right up his anus. He told nobody of this most disgusting fact. Yes, he was the old Antichrist, but Revelations had come and gone, and, of course, it was no longer an issue. But then there was that dastard new second revelation of the apostle John. All Damien really could think was 'Here we go again.'
Hot Shit up Shit Creek
'Jesus. Bite me,' said Ambriel.
'Heh,' said the Christ Child. 'Stuck in the middle of Dalgety fucking river, on a rock, surrounded by shit for 20 metres. And we've piled it high as well, Rothbutt.'
Meludiel looked on dismayed. 'Your nasty Jesus.'
'You can bite me too, St James.'
'Nasty bastard,' she said.
Jenna looked at David. 'What if he sinks. You know, that much shit – it might act like quicksand.'
'Quickshit?' considered Jesus. 'David stuck in a pile of quickshit? Yo, Peter. Fletch. Have you got the camera ready. The fucken polaroid like I asked you too. This should be classic.'
David wanted to curse the bastard, but refrained. 'I'll pray,' he shouted out. 'For rain. To wash the shit away.'
'Hot shit is gonna pray for rain. How original,' smirked Jesus.
'You have him in sights?' queried Iron Eagle.
'Ten four, buddy,' replied Golden Dragon.
'Release the shittersplasm,' said Iron Eagle.
'Shittersplasm away,' replied Golden Dragon.
David was embarrassed. What would he do. 'You know, Jesus. If there is any kind of Justice in the world, you'll get yours,' shouted out David.
'Bite me Rothbutt,' replied Jesus, grinning madly.
The Shittersplasm, painfully accurate and on target, hit its target and exploded the biggest pile of sloshly cow dun g everywhere. Meludiel was splattered, just a little. Jenna took a bunch of poo in the face. Peter Fletcher was partially covered, but the main main, the Christ Child himself, took the mother load.
'Fuck!' he swore, as he stood there, covered in the smelliest and sloppiest cow dung, this side of the great dividing ranges.
David Rothchild, though, still stood in the middle of the creek, untouched by the bomb. He grinned as a helicopter came into sight, lowered a rope ladder, and as he flew away, clean and unblemished, he could just see in the distance two, very proud, and very happy, fighter jets, and wondered to himself, 'now who the hell were they?'
Love IV: Love Reconsiders
Gemma Watkins. She was a successful lady. In partnership with Francine Jones and Justine Atkinson, she headed 'Eternya Lawyers International'. The rights to the business name had been auctioned off, as many of the very marketable names had been done so by the Council of Eternya, for they were the trademarks, the business names, of eternal success, when it came right down to it, and the lawyers Gemma, Francine and Justine had an eternity of savings to draw upon, entered the auction, and won comfortably. It had been a slow day, and a little guardian angel had prayed for them for months to be given a break by the Almighty. They were schmick, well dressed, well spoken, and looked fantastic. And the men in the office always fancied their presidents, but they were not ones for fooling around so easily. Francine was single, and had been so for aeons upon aeons. She had a debt she owed to God in her heart for an ancient transgression, and had forsworn male company until she was damn well good and ready to face the throneroom of Zaphon and see if he was happy with her repentance. David had arranged a showing for her at her perusal, but she waited. She wanted God to know that she was a good girl, and while she might have stuffed up once, that was not her heart. Her heart was good. She wanted God to know that – she had a good and caring heart. Justine was an on again, off again, faithful baptist girl, who had joined Daniel Rothchild's, or more precisely Daniel Daly's, the one who had been brought up as the older brother of David's, 7DF fellowships years ago, when Christianity had been abolished for aeons, but had since returned to her reformed Baptist church, which had evolved doctrinally, and now mainly concentrated on God as their saviour, with Jesus the 'Gospel Teacher' as their focus on their former Christ. Not even calling themselves Christians anymore, they were baptists first and foremost, and had developed something of a 'Mikveh' system, based on the laws of the Old Testament, which helped them with spiritual cleanliness. Somehow it ended up being a natural part of Baptist faith. But she still loved Jesus in her heart, and had the same Bibles she had all those years ago, carefully cherished, and faithfully read at times. Gemma, though, was the fire in the company, and all the hot guys would go for her, but she would turn her nose, and say 'Who are you kidding, right?' Gemma, in the end, was still hung up on David Rothchild to a large degree. He'd stuffed up not long ago, well, actually, quite a long time ago really, but now, with the growing reputation of 'Hot Shit' around the world, and the competitive Space corps really heating things up with the new movies based on them, and the emerging culture on the issue, David was in her thoughts again. But she wouldn't be so easy to nab – he had to earn her.
'Yo, dude,' said Hot Shit.
Daniel turned to look at the arrogant talk of his top flightsman. 'Well, if it isn't Captain Rothchild.'
'Hot Shit mate,' said David, smoking a ciggie, and looking cool, in his Tom Cruise Maverick Sunglasses, and his attitude of a 'god', or so they said.
'Hot Shit? I've heard tales on that. You almost were recently, apparently. Until some legendary figures of amazing accomplishment got you out of a stick situation.'
David looked at Daniel. 'Amazing accomplishment? You know who they are?'
'Private. They want to remain private. But they are first class flightsmen as well. Seen them in action. On video. Brilliant manoeuvres, really. Quite impressed I was.'
'Mmm,' replied David. 'Well what can I do for you bossman? Why the visit to our lodgings?'
Daniel looked down at his manilla folder. He looked at David carefully. 'I don't know, you know. She really should know better.' He opened the folder, and passed an envelope to David.
David looked at it, and looked at the back. It was signed by Gemma Watkins.
'Thanks,' he said to Daniel.
'Don't break her heart, Rothchild. She's a catch, and you know it. And you can never make up your mind on a permanent squeeze, so take what she says seriously.'
'Can you?' David asked Daniel.
Daniel looked at David, and sat down on a bunk. 'You know, Hot Shit. Your a good pilot. And a loyal friend. I, in my heart, am a bit flaky. But that's the way I really am, ok. It's something I tried repenting of, once. This dilly dallying with women, but it never really worked. It wasn't even temptation. I guess I would be a hypocrite to call it love, because apparently true love only makes one choice. But my heart chooses many. And, in the end, my heart has chosen many. I will defend myself, though. There aren't any more ladies any more. It's full, in there. So, because of that, I don't pretend to have a permanent affection, other than a close loyalty to my twin for support and friendship. I don't think things will ever change me, because those loves of my heart won't either.'
David took off his sunglasses. 'Ok. That's fine with me. Will Iron Eagle take me out for a drink then?'
Daniel looked long and hard at David. 'Officer, this place is a mess. Clean it up, or I'll have your guts for garters.'
'Yes sir,' said David dryly.
But, as Daniel walked away, David could here a soft chuckle, and a few words which said 'Iron Eagle to Golden Dragon. Shittersplasm target accomplished. Let's return to base.'
And then he was gone.
And David cleaned up his bunk, and laid down for a nap, and grinned about those words, and slept nice and happily all evening.
Batman and the Silver Fox Flying High
'Now listen, horseface, I take the lead.'
Azrael – the Batman – looked at his wingman the Silver Fox, Cosadriel. 'You always take the ruddy lead. Why not admit that Azrael, the Real Batman, kicks your arse.'
'The Batwing,' said Cosadriel, pointing to Azrael's ship,' is a pile of bat poo poo. Oshanel's 'Lovecopter' makes it look second rate.' Oshanel, Cosadriel's twin, had a rescue helicopter covered in love symbols and rainbows and rabbits.
'Comparing me to the Lovecopter is a typical thing for the Silver Fox,' replied Azrael. 'It shows his genuine admiration of my beauty and adroit flying skills. Your twin is a magnificent pilot, so I am indeed complimented,' replied Azrael.
'Humph,' said Cosadriel. 'The mission is this. Christforce are making ground in the northern reaches of Sklyandria. Their dominion is starting to encroach upon Torah Brigade's hard won turf. We have a mission from the Golden Dragon to do some amazing flying today, and win some hearts. We lose this chance to win Degrees 56, and Golden Dragon will not be impressed.'
'He should have given us 224,' said Azrael. 'A lot of Scots out on 224. 56 is full of chumps, mate.'
'Be that as it may, and don't diss 56, for a lot of Icelandic folk know it has home, it is our degrees of Eternya were the current action is taking place with Christforce. And we had better make some positive ground as well. Old Noah is preaching 'The Document' again, and a new reward awaits us at the end of this era. Official glories, recognitions, awards, yada yada yada. I'm sure you get the picture.'
'Why don't we bring the lovecopter along. Get Oshanel to do some work with us. The kids love her after all,' suggested Azrael.
Cosadriel looked at him. 'You know, wingman, sometimes you actually make sense. A rare quality in Scots folk, but sometimes you actually make sense.'
Half an hour later. 'She's busy with a Lazy Town job,' said Cosadriel.
'Then its Batman taking the lead and the Silver Fox coming up his tail,' grinned Azrael.
'Watch it, wingman,' replied Cosadriel.
John Peters, the Christforce chief Flightsman for degrees 56 on the official Eternya designation of land areas, based on the 360 degrees of a circle from the centre of Eternya, outwards forever across the landscape of Eternya, was concerned. Torah Brigade were present, and it was the Batman, whom he respected, and the Silver Fox, who was just a tad eager to impress.
'Peters to Brown Owl 7. We have a problem. The dynamic duo are in town, about 50ks south of here.'
After a moment Brown Owl responded. 'Ten four buddy. Be cool. Watch, and then do manoeuvre 74 Hawkfire.'
'Will do Brown Owl,' responded Peters.
'The show is on,' said Azrael. 'The crowd is good. Word must have gotten around well.'
'It was scheduled a few months ago, but kept secret from most,' said Cosadriel. 'Only locals of the area were told.'
'Then let the show begin,' said the Batman.
Thus, in the 56th degrees of Eternya, some way out from the centre, the Batman and the Silver Fox leading, performed various manoeuvres in their craft, all for the purpose of entertaining crowds and showing their skill. What had become the standard way of competing amongst the space corps was good old fashioned entertainment, and crowd reaction gauged by newspaper and media reports, which were assessed by the impartial council of rewards for the Eternya Contract committee, based on ideas from the Document on competition. There were no rules, in this sense, but the rule of law, and the imagination of the competitors. The Batman and the Silver Fox performed well, and then, as they noticed a Christforce ship in the vicinity, they finished off for a while and watched. The Christforce flightsman performed a copyrighted manoeuvre, 74 Hawkfire, developed by Luke ben Yeshua, in honour of his father. When the manoeuvre had been performed, Batman contacted the Silver Fox. 'Tough. Do we spend a move, or do we retreat?'
'Run, run, run away, live to fight another day,' replied the Silver Fox. 'Impress them too much now, and we waste our patterns. This fella has done well, but we worked hard with basic moves. We call it a day, Batman.'
Azrael put on the theme from Batman Forever, and as 'Kiss from a Rose' started playing on the two ships stereo, Cosadriel considered the Christforce. They weren't fools, naturally. But what they had, how well did they conserve? People got tired, in time, of all the Hot Shit. Waste it all, and people moved on. Got bored with it. Seen it all before. So the Batman and the Silver Fox would not spend their stuff so easily today, and wait for a future opportunity.
'Time to head home old buddy,' said the Silver Fox.
'I'm right up your arse,' replied the Batman.
Cosadriel grimaced at the visual which entered his head. Not a pleasant idea at all.
Slipstream, Tailwind and Gobbledy Gook's night out
'Yo, Slipstream?' Archangel Michael turned to look. It was Talzudiel.
'Wassup Tailwind,' replied Michael, to Talzudiel's Torah Brigade flightname.
'Gobbledy Gook is up for a night out.' Gobbledy Gook was Archangel Gabriel's flightname, and Slipstream was Michaels, as his specialty was to fly in the Slipstream of his fellow Torah Brigade team mates, and emerge for the glory at the right time.
'Then let Gobbledy Gook fart around with Tailwind, coz I'm broke.'
'I'll make you a loan,' responded Talzudiel.
'Oh, ok,' responded Michael.
'Hey, they're pretty hot,' said Gabriel.
'What is this place?' asked Michael.
'Degrees 56's favourite nightclub,' responded Talzudiel.
'Those girls. Rather scantily clad,' said Michael. 'This is one of those places, I take it.'
Talzudiel grinned. 'Only the best for our fearless leader.'
'I'm hardly the leader. Officially Golden Dragon owns that right. He performed best in the initial trials.'
'Yeh, Valandriel sure kicks ass,' said Talzudiel. 'That's him, though. You know. That lad has been so conservative for so long, but gradually mind you, he branches out. Found his foundation with that eternal home he was given in the realm.'
'They are not easy to earn,' said Michael. 'I don't have one yet, you know. Just a dorm at Zaphon if I insist. An eternal abode. I must be a nomad, or God thinks that.'
'Don't sweat it,' said Gabriel. 'Daniel still pays God dues for Danielphon, you know. Every now and again God charges him some rent. Says he hasn't earned it just yet, mate.'
'Who has,' replied Michael.
'Well, Valandriel of course,' said Gabriel.
'Mmm,' said Michael. 'Something I'll have to think about.'
'You gonna try and score?' asked Talzudiel.
'Elenniel wouldn't like it,' said Michael.
'No. She wouldn't. Would she,' said Gabriel, looking at his older brother. 'No matter, bro. Enjoy the sights, but we'll go home sober and unrewarded I think.'
Talzudiel looked at them both, and at the girls, and sighed. 'I will have a few. But I won't get pissed,' he replied.
'Feel free,' said Michael.
'Mm. No. One beer, then. And ginger beer after that. We'll play some pool and just have a good time. But don't make me ignore the pretty ladies ok.'
'Will do,' replied Michael.
As the night passed, they discussed Torah Brigade and the current state of play, and the newcomers in the game, the Saruvim Daredevil's.
'A good life,' said Talzudiel, as they drove home, mostly sober.'
'That's what God promised us,' replied Michael. 'Right at the beginning. Said we would work it out eventually.'
'Let's hope we're starting to,' said Gabriel.
'Amen to that,' said Michael, as they continued steadily back to Torah Brigade homebase, and a long sleep well overdue.
Zadennuel Strikes Hard
'Caltek. His speed and manoeuvring is unbelievable,' said Hardstrike, the flightname of Zadennuel, 31st male Seraphim of the Realm of Eternity, into his mic.
'Then sit back and watch,' said Overlord from Base.
'Will do Overlord,' replied Zadennuel.
Degrees 56. Things were heating up. Daredevils had entered the fray, and were playing hard. Damn hard.
'This is Lady Skreemer. Do you hear me Hardstrike?'
'What the?' said Zadennuel. 'Are you out there Suzi baby?' Suzandriel, Zadennuel's Seraphim twin, flew by to join him as his wingwoman. 'Right by your side, Z Man.'
Hardstrike looked out his window, and waved to his babe. 'Good to see you. Don't forget, though. No fancy flying. This is a trial period, and Iron Eagle is not impressed with Golden Dragon's judgement on allowing sheila's into the Brigade.'
'Yet Overlord's will is supreme, and Ogre has no objections.'
'Desdrael can bite me,' said Zadennuel. 'Overlord my butt. He thinks he's the bees knees. Doesn't even fly now. Sits back and gives all the orders.'
'He formed the brigade, sweetie. Learn your place.'
'As hotter than Hot Shit,' smiled Hardstrike, and returned his focus on Calteks manoeuvres. 'He's a class act this kid. Callodyn's boy, isn't he?'
'That's him. New to the Daly family. Another ego I think we will have to deal with in time.'
'They're all like that. Meek my butt.'
'Well, house Marrakesh should learn some humility and serve Allah more faithfully. You think its that damn easy earning the glories they've earned. They've taken the Document seriously forever, and were serving right at the beginning. They defined the damn new agenda for starters.'
'And now we compete,' said Ali Marrakesh, the Angel Zadennuel.
'Now we compete,' replied Suzandriel.
Caltek performed some skillful flying, and a helicopter had joined them, at a safe distance, with a big number 7 and a familiar logo on it.
'Hey, its Aussie channel 7,' said Zadennuel. 'They must be filming.'
'Then get some good flying in, bro. And if you'll allow, I'll do something special.'
'Gotcha Lady Skreemer,' replied Zadennuel.
As they watched Caltek continued on with the show, and Zadennuel waited for his opportunity.
'Whatever you do, don't be bloody gay about it,' said Lady Skreemer. 'Be a man. For a change. I remember, you know. What mother said. That Zadennuel boy. I know he is your twin, my dearest, but he is such a pussy about everything. Too scared to hold your hand in public. Too scared to show any real affections. Needs approval from his father for everything. Allah forbid he make a decision of his own.'
'Shaddup. And leave your mother out of it. She never liked me.'
'Oh, she likes you alright. Loves you in fact. Thinks you are a wonderful person, with a heart of gold. But your a candy ass in her eyes.'
'Shaddup,' said Zadennuel. 'Candy ass this.' And then he was off, doing his flight, and Lady Skreemer decided to forego showing him up, letting Hardstrike strike hard and, hopefully, gain the glory for Torah Brigade for the day's activities in Degrees 56.'
Talzudiel jumped out of the jeep, and picked the magazines from the front seat, and looked at the flat. It was a duplex, adjoined to another, and his twin Winoniel had only rented it for a six month lease. It had not been expensive, as she was only here at Torah Brigade Headquarters 56 Degrees Alpha Kappa Omicron for a short while. But that didn't matter. He would have enough time, now, in these six months, to address some issues.
He took the magazines, came up to the front door, and knocked. No response. A neighbour poked his head over the fence, and smiled at him.
'She's gone off. Shopping. Should be home soon though. My name's Jim. Winny and I are good friends, now. She came over for dinner the other night, to meet my wife and have an introduction to the neighbourhood.'
'Uh, thanks Jim. I'll wait, I guess.'
'You a friend of hers?' he asked.
'I'm her brother,' he replied.
'Oh, I didn't know she had family. She seemed to indicate she was an angel, from what I heard. A realm one.'
'She is,' replied Talzudiel.
Jim looked at him for a moment, focusing on his face. 'Are you a Seraphim?' he asked.
'Talzudiel. 43rd male Seraphim of the realm of eternity. Winoniel is my twin.'
'Well I'll never,' replied Jim. 'Well I'm Jim. Jim Castle. Look, why don't you come over. We'll have some tea. I'm on old Aussie, rooted in a pommie culture. Mum and dad were poms, and I was born in England, but raised in Australian culture. I live here in Skylandria now, though. Found it suitable to me. Like the attitude of the nation.'
'It's popular, yes,' replied Talzudiel. 'Yes, ok. I'll have tea with you.'
They sat eating biscuits, and Jim explained that his wife worked, while he was a freelance reporter who worked a few months a year, but was mostly semi-retired. 'We don't need much to get by on, you know. And the wife likes to work. She's a doctor's receptionist down in town.'
'Right,' said Talzudiel, looking over the place. 'You have,' said Talzudiel, searching for the words, 'a unique taste in things. Wallpaper of conflicting types. But they seem to somehow match each other.'
'They counterpoint each other,' said Jim. 'I love music, especially eccentric types, and our house reflects a mishmash of stylings. It's how we like it. So, what do you do. For a living. I guess you must have fortunes upon fortunes. I'm very young, you know. Compared to your great years. I was born here in Eternya, in England back near the centre somewhat, and I have a vague idea of the past ages and worlds so many have been through.'
'It's grown each time, you know,' said Talzudiel. 'Always new additions with each growing world. Always like that. I have a head full of so many memories, now. They come in from time to time, and I fluctuate through them. Ancient memories are strong, right at the beginning, but its all in there somehow. Somehow God's miracle of our minds keeps it all under control.'
'Fascinating,' said Jim. 'Well, let me show you the chicken coop. I have some special hens which are award winning.'
Jim Castle showed Talzudiel around for a while, and Talzudiel was struck by his simple ways, but ways which mattered to Jim. And he thought on the words Jim had spoken earlier about his wife and that they had been loyal together for so long now, and that he hoped it would always be like that. Talzudiel really didn't have that anymore. He'd married numerous times, but didn't have a loyal partner. And his twin, who once he had sworn eternal devotion to, had left hi after he had cheated for a while with another lady. And, he supposed to himself, that was what it was all about today. What Michael's words the other night had done to him – striking a chord. His loyalty to Elenniel.
'That should be her now,' said Jim, noticing the noise of the car pull up next door. 'Well, it was good to meet you Talzudiel. If you ever want to visit, I'll be right here.'
'Thanks Jim. Thanks,' he said.
As he wandered over next door, his twin smiled, kissed him on the cheek, and thanked him for the magazine presents he had brought her. But he noticed it. In the eyes. It wasn't resentment. Or a grudge. It was just that look in Winoniel's eyes. Experience. She knew her twin, and didn't expect that much of him anymore. And if that was the case.............well. If that was the case. Well. Well what did he intend to do about that, he asked himself? What in God's good heaven above did he intend to do about that?
Kayella and Winoniel
'Says he loves you,' said Winoniel, putting away the groceries.
'It's an old crush. Don't think too much of it,' responded Kayella. 'Talzudiel is fickle at times. Thinks he knows what he wants in his heart, but later on its all different, and he goes in a new direction, and never settles on who he is. The greatest sportsman the realm of eternity has ever had and will ever have. Do you remember that boast? But now? Couldn't give a damn, and doesn't give the slightest shit about Columbia in the world cup. Then he goes off into business expertise, but ends up selling his companies aeons later just to start again. He never settles. Can't make up his mind.'
'He did invest,' said Winoniel. 'We have money, you know. But I know what you are saying. Puts all his passions into something, and thinks it will last forever, but come a day and he is off again, on a new adventure, a new dream. Can't settle.'
'Can any of them?' smirked Kayella.
'Valandriel did,' said Winoniel.
Kayella looked at her older Seraphim sister. 'You know, that actually is kind of true. With Valandriel. He never leaves his twin, and has owned that place in the Realm forever now, and doesn't really change much from what he does.'
'He leads the Torah Brigade practically, under the Overlord idiot, and has so much glory these days. More responsibility in the Brigade than ego boy Daniel.'
'Tell me about it,' said Kayella. 'Look, I think it is a rash belief of the heart on Talzudiel's part. I'll speak to him, if you want. Let him shower me with love, and then I'll tell him to wise up.'
Winoniel looked at her angelic sister. 'Yes. Do that if you wish. I don't think I really care that much either way. But if you wish.'
'Don't be jaded, Winny. Your so young, you know?'
Winoniel looked at her sister, and they both burst out laughing on that joke.
'He'll get his head together. Eventually,' said Kayella. 'Just give him time.'
'I've given him an eternity so far,' said Winoniel.
'Then give him an eternity more,' replied Kayella. 'God knows its still taking Callodyn time to work out where he belongs.'
Winoniel smiled. 'I'm sure Callodyn knows were his bread is buttered.'
'Yep. Right up Taylor's......'
'Kayella. Watch your language,' interrupted Winoniel. And again they both burst out laughing.
'Time,' said Kayella. 'Lots of time.'
'In the mean time,' said Winoniel, getting some ice cream out of the fridge. 'Time for cookies and cream.'
Kayella put her hands to her thighs. 'Callodyn will kill me.'
'Tell him to f off to Taylor then,' said Winoniel grinning.
'You bitch,' smirked Kayella, and they headed for the lounge, and an afternoon devouring a tub of Sara Lee and weight worries conversation.
4 O'Clock 14
God was bored. It was 4 O'clock in the morning, and he knew he had another hour in him before sleep beckoned. He picked up the newspaper, but had second thoughts, and wandered off to the TV room. Rihanna was sleeping on the couch, sliced cucumber on her eyes and a mudpack on her face. Her current beauty fixations, so she said to him. He picked up her feet, and she groaned a little, and snuggled down beneath them, already armed with his mobile and the remote control. The mobile first. He rang the number and Pizza Hut 24/7 answered.
'Ogre's special,' replied Wolfgang.
'Oh. It's you again. Look old man, it takes us ages to put on the toppings like you like, and bossman doesn't like the scam of trying to get it at a bargain price.'
'I'm on a budget,' replied God.
'And we've got a business to run,' the Pizza Hut operator.
'Look, give me a break. I've had a hard night. (he hadn't). The wife is complaining I snore too loudly. (she wasn't). The kids have been screaming all day. (they hadn't). And I think I'm coming down with a boil. (partially true – there was a large pimple currently forming on his chin, which he was in two minds about squeezing and saying 'to hell with it.').
'Aw, for fuc... Ok old man. Have it your way. Ogre special. But bossman will kill me if he find's out.'
'Your a legend,' said Wolfgang. 'Oh, and garlic bread and a bottle of Coke Zero. Gotta watch my weight.'
'Will do, big fella.'
'And put it on my account,' he continued.
'Oh, about that account. Are you planning on settling it any time soon?'
'What's the problem?' asked God innocently.
'It's up to $3000. You know, that's a lot of cash. Are you really sure you are even good for it?'
'Let me know when it hits 5 grand. I'll settle then.'
'Alright,' said the voice. '1 Ogre special, garlic bread, and a bottle of Coke Zero. Because you are concerned about your weight,' added the pizza hut operator in a cheeky voice.
'Why you little..,' started God. 'Fine. That will be fine. And just come in. The front door is open. I'm in the front room.'
'Oh. Ok. Shall we bring you a hot water bottle. You know, it might be a little cold now.'
'Why you little...' started God, but controlled himself. 'And make it snappy,' and he hung up.
'Pizza hut workers,' he complained out loud. 'Don't know how good they've got it. Right, what's on?'
He picked up the TV and turned on Skylandria channel 8. They were covering the recent spectacles of those brave men in their flying machines.
'Great,' said God, and as the hour passed, and pizza man finally arrived at 5 to 5, Wolfgang wolfed down his pizza, had second thoughts about the garlic bread, and sipped on the Coke to wash it all down.
He dreamed that night, and as the Sandman worked out his endless ministrations, God found himself cornered by a gang of very upset Pizza Hut workers. 'We want our cashola?' they all threatened him. God forked over two bucks.
'It will do for now,' they grumbled. 'But we'll be back soon enough.'
And God dreamed on, and on, and on, and angry pizza hut workers did not invade his dreams again for quite some time indeed.
Samson and Goliath
'Yo, Philistine scumbag,' yelled out the titan Samson.
'Yo, Danite cradle snatcher,' responded Goliath, drinking beer in 'The Decadent Harlot' inn, on the southside of a Degrees 56 province of Skylandria known as Canaan.
'Cradle snatching. It's been a while since I've been up to those shenanigans,' replied Samson, taking a seat next to Goliath at the bar.
'The good old days, hey,' responded Goliath.
'Aye, lad. I remember those good old days. Belting up weak philistines. Bedding adorable philistine harlots. Taking the piss out of the Gaza morons in general.'
Goliath turned to Samson and eyed him up. 'You in for some brawling, Danite, I take it?'
'By the sword of David, I am in for some shagging I think,' responded Samson.
'Then you've come to the right place,' grinned Goliath. 'The Decadent Harlot' is well known around these parts for the quality of the ladies.'
'Nothing too scungy down below I take it?' inquired Samson.
'They've known a health clinic or too, you know. But you should be fine. Nothing your old thumb tack can't handle. If it can find their clacker that is.'
'My old behemoth can find their clacker, don't you worry about that,' responded Samson. 'I'm just surprised yours hasn't fallen off yet.'
'Has actually,' replied Goliath, taking a swig of beer. 'A few times now. Doc fixes me right up. The surgery costs a bit, and it takes a while to grow them in the labs, but its ok. The current model is right as rain.'
'Good to know,' said Samson.
'You still doing those movies with Delilah?' asked Goliath.
'She's seeing the Daniel fellows. Currently his squeeze. She's joined the Lightbringers, from what I hear. Has found her new salvation.'
'Aye, I think I heard something of that,' responded Goliath. 'That one has a ladies man reputation. His good looks.'
'Samson pulls them by the dozen when he flexes,' responded Samson, and ripped off his T-Shirt, showing his majestic chest.
Goliath proceeded to take off his shirt, and for the next half an hour they cracked pose after bodybuilding pose, trying to out do each other.
Later, when the whistles had died down, Samson spoke on what he had come about.
'Torah Brigade. It's open just to them angels,' said Samson. 'But I have been offered a place with the Saruvim Daredevil's on a special brigade for humans. They asked me to ask you. They have a big ship they want manned, and they've also sought out Wolfgang Debear to pilot the ship. It's called Behemoth. And its big. Very, very big.'
'Sound's interesting,' said Goliath.
'It can go far, and quickly when it builds up speed. They have a request of God. They put it in formal writing, and it was endorsed by a community of several hundred willing volunteers for the program,' said Samson.
'And what is that program?' asked Goliath.
'They want to go out far. Way far. Way out in roughly a northerly direction, way beyond the established settlements of Eternya. To places nobody will get to yet in trillions of years with current technologies. MOST current technologies. Behemoth, once she really gets the speed up, can reach the kind of distance they want in a few weeks.'
'Why so far out?' asked Goliath.
'For the rise of the Saruvim,' responded Samson.
'The rise of the Saruvim?' queried Goliath.
'The rise of the Saruvim,' affirmed Samson.
'Interesting,' said Goliath, and sipped on his beer, as Samson started going over details of a brave and very bold plan. A brave and very bold plan indeed.
'Yeh, ok. What if it is just a crush? What of it? I obviously am keen.'
'And so is my twin,' responded Kayella, sitting there, eating cookies and cream, Winoniel next door with the Castle's, leaving them to chat.
'Who is as faithful as a shark,' responded Talzudiel, pacing the room.
'He is, actually. Faithful. Has been for aeons now.'
'As he screws Taylor and Luladiel on a regular basis,' retorted Talzudiel. 'Come on. He's a rogue. I never marry more than one woman.'
'But you are never faithful to the woman you marry,' replied Kayella, watching the Skylandria Rugby League match on a new team she was now following.
'I'd be faithful to you,' he said.
Eloenuel considered that. 'You know, Kayella. He probably would.'
'Stay out of it Ellie,' said Kayella.
'Oops,' said Eloenuel, and went back to reading the magazine he was looking at.
'My point,' continued Kayella, 'is that Callodyn is faithful to me. He may indeed be faithful to other ladies as well, but that is his style, and Torah does not forbid.'
'One man, one woman,' said Talzudiel. 'In the beginning it was as such.'
'Then why can't you choose one woman?' replied Kayella.
'Because I can't. But it's only one woman. And I already know that if you marry me I will leave you one day.'
'Jesus Christ,' swore Kayella. 'Now that's a term of endearment if ever I have heard one.'
'At least he is honest,' stated Eloenuel, 68th of the male Seraphim of Eternity.
'Shut up Ellie,' Kayella said again.
'Humph,' replied Eloenuel, and disappeared off to the back room.
'Look. Tallie. Don't be an idiot. You know I will never leave Callodyn. I'm flattered, ok. Believe me. Your a cute guy, and we have always been friends, and good ones to boot. I love your football suaveness, which you really should get back to, and your polished Spanish and Portuguese linguistic skills. Your a great guy. But you don't want me, you know. I'm not that centre in your heart. Look closer to home.'
'Ah, fuck off Kayella. Always the twin thing, these days. So many go on about how its all slowly leading to that plan, but I don't buy it. We are free, and the books have spoken that the twin can be an issue, but doesn't have to be. It's just life that rules in the end. Not a soulmate idea, which isn't even a fact. In fact, there is no bond in a twin at all. Nothing psychol-spritiual, nothing whatsoever. They are not necessarily even good mates. It's just a complex arrangement of various types of souls which mesh as a whole and a community, and in which some find the support they need in the twin as a lover and a romancer, but some just use that as a friend. Callodyn only thinks you are hot in the end, you know. Your just cute. He likes you because of that. I don't its anything more serious. Look at Taylor. Look at Luladiel. They aren't exactly plain janes.'
'Be that as it may, and I don't necessarily disagree, he is only human, and sometimes that is just where the chemistry comes from anyway. But he's tragically loyal to all three of us now, and I have even, despite myself, grown comfortable with it. Devuel never wants to know Luladiel anymore anyway, and Steve has been married for all eternity practically to a human lady, who he swears he will never leave. Doesn't even see Taylor anymore. Worlds apart as far as he is concerned. But its not like that with you. I can tell. It's why your here, and you are also Seraphim. For Seraphim its just that little bit more personal with the twin. You guys have known each other forever. And you and Winoniel are old friends, and good friends. Why even bother looking for another lady?'
'She farts a bit too much. She eats curried eggs quite a lot, and she stinks a bit. And its embarrassing,' he said.
She looked at him, stunned. 'Is that it?' she asked incredulously.
Talzudiel looked at her for a while, and nodded. 'Pretty much just that. I don't want to say anything, cause she likes curried eggs, you know. There her favourite. So she's not for me.'
Kayella looked at him, aghast. 'Are you serious? Curried eggs comes between you and your twin?'
'And the farts are pretty smelly,' he said. 'Toxic at times.'
'Jesus Christ!' she swore for the second time. 'For the love of Mary mother of God.'
'Heh heh heh,' came the laughter of Eloenuel from the other room. 'The baptist chick has dug deep into her catholic roots for that one.'
'Shut up Eloenuel,' shouted Kayella.
'She farts too much,' said Kayella to Talzudiel.
'Yes,' he replied. 'Largely that. But don't you say a word. She likes her egg sandwiches. I don't want to come between her and them. It's her favourite food.'
'Oh. Well, Ok then. I see you have a well developed rationality for betraying your twin's devotion. Not something like 'She's an axe murderer, or she worships Satan and the like. But, she farts too much.'
'And it smells,' he said.
'It smells,' she finished. 'Ok. I give up. But your not having me.'
'Fine. I'll find someone else.'
'You do that then,' said Kayella.
'Oh,' and don't you dare tell her.'
'I won't promised Kayella, and sat down, turned to the TV, and grinned to herself. Winoniel's curried eggs. For heaven's bloody sake. Winoniel's curried eggs. Whatever next, she thought to herself. Whatever next.
Flight of the Nighthawk
'Jerahmeel. You are an old glory hound, aren't you dear brother?'
'Sariel. It is good to see you ole chum. My, it's been a while.'
'And it's Nighthawk, isn't it?'
'3 months now. Overlord christened me the title.'
'Baptised you into it, huh?'
'Something like that,' responded the Papua New Guinean Prince. 'So, your here for first day's training,' said Jerahmeel. 'Have you chosen a flightname?'
'Old Glory in fact,' said Sariel. 'Ironically. Overlord himself approved.'
'Classic,' smiled Jerahmeel. 'Oh, I have a mat with me. Fancy a game?'
Sariel looked at him seriously. 'Well, why not. It's been forever.'
Jerahmeel went to his trunk at the end of his bunk, retrieved a Chulara mat, and took it to the nearby table, with a plastic container of markers which he spilled out. As they set them up for a game of Chulara Jerahmeel began speaking on a mission entrusted to him.
'I have a mission coming up,' said Jerahmeel. 'I will be gone for a while. It is probably about 6 to 8 months away on estimates. But we have had intelligence which necessitates this mission.'
'Interesting,' said Sariel, looking down at the board, and deciding to make the first move, which either player occasionally could if they took a fancy to it. 'What's the mission?'
'Flight of the Nighthawk. I'll be away for several decades, and it will be a lonely life for a while. Just a colonisation move, really. Word came down from Overlord that Saruvim Daredevil's have an agenda. It wasn't leaked, exactly, but we have sources who observe certain things.'
'Callodyn?' asked Sariel.
'Not exactly. His twin. Kayella. She overheard some discussions innocently when she was in a back room. She was very upset in her conscience about evesdropping, but confessed the details to Valandriel. He spoke with Desdrael, and he spoke with Ogre. Ogre informed them he had already known, and said 'What of it?'. Thus my mission.'
'Care to explain,' said Sariel.
'It's called Behemoth. It's a creation of the Saruvim, designed by Caltek and Valderann. It's big. One of the very biggest ever, and when it gets up speed, so they say, it leaves the rest on a tricycle in comparison. And they have a plan which Kayella overheard. Based on the document.'
'Which is?' asked Sariel.
'They are going north. Taking Behemoth up to top speed and going north for several weeks once at top speed. The kind of distance they will travel – well, lets just say the whole encompassment of the Realm of Eternity, from one end of the outermost rim, cross the diameter to the other, is still only a fraction of the distance they will travel.'
Sariel looked at Jerahmeel, surprised. 'Is that so? And why do they want to go so far out?'
'For the rise of the Saruvim,' responded Jerahmeel.
'The Document. Establish a colony, and build. Build large, and quickly, and establish things. They are forming a V shape going northwards from the point they reach, and using old white stones as boundary markers, so its very legal with the old man. I mean, it will literally be trillions and trillions of years before we get that far north in settlement, and by then they will have swallowed up so much more. They are going hard.'
Sariel looked at Jerahmeel for a moment, and looked down at the map. 'Could be a problem for some, I guess. But if that is their ambition.'
'It's why I'm going south. As far as we can get with what is planned. Daniel and Valandriel have taken on the fasting job, and will be at it for 5 months, aiming just for a small craft, which can travel at amazing speed. We probably won't get anywhere near the Saruvim's type of distance out, but I have a long job of establishing boundary markers as well, before a colonization team is established. We won't bother with east or west, as we need to let the rest alone for everyone else. But the Seraphim and Cherubim are not planning to let the challenge go without response.'
'I see,' said Sariel. 'Fascinating. 'Well, your move.'
'Sure,' replied Jerahmeel and, as they got underway, Sariel seemed to be enjoying his match, but his mind was in fact exactly upon what Jerahmeel had said. And also on the document. And the realities of life that that document now spoke to many. And, for his own families sake, just what did that mean for Sariel the Seraphim? What did that mean indeed?'
Jetydosa the Saruvim
'Jetydosa, Jetydosa, Jetydosa. What on earth are we going to do with a Saruvim angel as simple as you?'
'Let me join the Saruvim Daredevil's,' replied Jetydosa.
Bossman looked at the young 22 year old. 'Your barely out of your nappies, and 'King's X Glory Band 784965231993' can not afford to let you go so easily. You are the first angel to bare your revered name, and the Glory needs you for an eternity yet my young son.'
'Yet I feel inclined, in my heart of hearts, which beats for the Lord Jesus, to counter-oppose the Christforce and set them an example of excellence in the halls of Daredevil glory.'
'Sayeth thee,' responded Bossman. 'I'll look at the books. Young Jerry Maguire Gaskill should fit in on bass if you insist on departing. Jerry has been fill in these past 6 months and is doing very well amidst your on again, off again stage appeareances.'
'Jetydosa's glory lieth elsewhere. In the name of Prince James let me departeth you old slug.'
'And relinquish your father's fateful signature? Mmmm. Should I?' he asked, scratching his chin.
Jetydosa looked pleadingly at old Albert Summersby, his bossman in the legion of King's X Glory band tribute bands to the legends themselves.
'Very well, young chicken. You shall have your freedom. I feel a guilt upon my very soul should I try and keepeth you. Gloria!' he shouted. 'Bring me Jetydosa's contract.'
A curly redhead showed up shortly, and handed a contract to Bossman. 'Here it is boss,' she said. 'Jetydosa's contract.'
'Now are you sure young layabout?'asked bossman.
'As sure as the testicles of Douglas Pinnick have known the backside of many a blokes arse,' replied Jetydosa.
'Good enough for me,' responded Bossman,' and shredded the contract. 'Your a free man.'
And Jetydosa was off, as free as Douglas Pinnick's testicles liberties, to the Saruvim Daredevil's, and a life of great adventure indeed.
Diagonel son of Dameriel
'So, Dameriel. She is pregnant.'
Dameriel, house steward of Glimmersphon keep in Zaphora, the realm of Eternity's central disc, smiled at Saruviel the Seraphim's comment.
'Yes, Genidwael is pregnant.' Genidwael was one of the female 700,000 Cherubim angels of Eternity, a long time friend of Dameriel through her many visits to Glimmersphon, whom Dameriel had kidded once recently that they should marry, him knowing her so well by now. She said that was a great idea. He replied that he had only been kidding. She kissed him on the cheek and said 'Then mean it.' He got down on his knee very quickly, on an unDameriel like impulse. She said yes.
His twin was not amused.
Not long later Genidwael became pregnant, and Saruviel's visit that day was mainly a congratulatory visit for Dameriel's fifth child. He had been very slow at it.
Later that year, when the child had been born, and was in a nursery put aside at Glimmersphon, Dameriel was down on the jetty of Golden Lake, looking out at the golden reflection of the hue of the light of eternity. Not far away the lake was covered with activity of regular lake goers, but the section reserved for Seraphim and Cherubim was vacant.
He was on the edge of the jetty, the ancient jetty, and looked out at the water. The ripples always held his attention – they did that to everyone though.
'God,' he said softly. 'Thank you for my fifth child. Life is always good with another addition to house Dameriel. I thank you Father. Really, I thank you.' And he sat there in quiet, not expecting any answer.
Later, when it was becoming dark, he finally roused himself, and was surprised to find the Theophany of God just behind him, gazing out at the lake.
'How long have you been there?' Dameriel asked God.
'Long enough,' replied God, and looked at Dameriel. 'Young Diagonel. Your new boy. He is different. There is a different kind of spirit within him. A very, very old one in fact. In many ways he is the oldest of the Saruvim, in many ways. But not quite.'
'He's Saruvim then? Yes, we sensed something different about the lad.'
'Treat him well. He is your eternal offspring.'
'Yes father,' replied Dameriel.
And they walked, then, up to Glimmersphon, and God stayed for dinner that night, and in the morning he was gone, and Dameriel was busy again, all about the keep, but his heart and attention mostly fixed on his new son, Diagonel, and whatever strange plan and mystery Destiny had in store for him.
Sariel was a splendid old angel. At least, that is how he perceived himself. Traditional. English. A gentleman. Gloryel saw through the whole facade. In fact, for as long as he had known Gloryel, she'd had that unfortunate ability to be able to play trump card upon trump card to outsmart, outwit or generally outplay all of Sariel's proud manly boasting. She had that way about her, it seemed. That inevitable way.
Little Trix, as they liked to call her, or Trixiel, the 15th daughter they shared, was the pride and joy of Gloryel's life for many years. Sariel was fond of her, despite her being shortish at only 5 foot 1 inch, which is were the moniker Little Trix came from and stuck. And, ironically, she was little trix in more ways than one. First of all, she was a dedicated adherent of the school of Animistic wisdom set up by the famed witch Lucy Potter. From this school she learned basic animistic spells, but they also taught traditional magical tricks as well in the local chapter she attended, which was more focused on the commercial realities of witchcraft training, including the blowing up of balloons and making funny animal shapes out of them, and the worst kids jokes known in creation. Trixiel lived in Gloryel and Daniel's house which they shared in the second of the heavens, now known as the Realm of Adventure. Daniel currently resided elsewhere, and Sariel and Gloryel were officially together for the time being – everyone knew it wouldn't last forever. It never did. But for now the warring twins were as one, raising a new child, a new hope, and making on with their eternal walk with destiny. Little Trix was not, of course, only fond of witchcraft, but the best of British Girl Bands including Spice Girls, and her favourite was 'Trixie Firecracker' herself, naturally, from whom she had been named, but then she was also fond of Girls Aloud and, quite naturally, Little Mix, to whom she felt quite drawn. She herself could sing somewhat, and was cute rather than traditionally beautiful, but that wasn't her career choice. No, neither magic, ultimately, nor music, had won the eternal heart of Trixiel. For on her 15th birthday, doing her homework on the kitchen table, Sariel ushered the Theophany into the room, and Gloryel bowed slightly, and Sariel saw him to a seat at the table.
'Trixiel,' said the theophany.
Trixiel looked up at the old looking man for the first time. 'Yo, gramps,' she said. 'Hows it hangin?'
'Trixiel!' scholded Geri instantly. 'That's no way to treat Wolfgang. He is very fond of you.'
'Wolfgang, huh?' she said.
'Wolfgang DeBere,' he replied.
'And what do you do?' she asked him.
'Run things,' he replied.
'Cool,' she said.
'And you. Do you think you would like running things? Big things?'
'Like what?' she asked him.
'I don't know. A mega-global universal company with googols in credits profits each day?'
'Piece of cake,' she said.
'She's a Saruvim,' said God. 'I've been meaning to inform you for a bit now. Just had some free time recently.'
'Oh, wonderful,' said Geraldine, looking at her daughter. 'Just what we needed. Saruviel will be sooooooooooooo impressed.'
'I was forgetting who they were named after,' said Sariel.
'So treat her with care,' said God. 'One day she will surprise you. Really surprise you.'
'Will do old man,' said Sariel.
'Gotcha,' replied Gloryel.
'Oh, and good luck in the cricket on the weekend,' said God to Sariel. 'I saw your last match. You'll need it.'
'Thanks,' said Sariel.
And God was gone, off to his own adventures, leaving Sariel and Gloryel staring at their newly revealed Saruvim daughter and wondering just what strange destiny that God had spoken of awaited her fortunes in the up and coming years ahead. What strange fortunes indeed.
The Return of Jetydosa
'Your back,' said Bossman.
'They said I had the flying talent of an Eagle,' replied Jetydosa.
'That's good,' said Bossman.
'Whose wings had been torn off,' replied Jetydosa.
'That bad, huh? Well, them's the breaks.' Bossman looked at him. He looked at the look in his eyes, that faintest taint of Pinnick blood which he knew the fella had. 'Oh, for fuck's sake. Gloria. Type out the contract again. For Jetydosa. He's old enough to sign it now anyway. And give it a slight increase in payment. He's a quality bassplayer.'
'Bossman. I've got these lyrics and shit. An ancient tribute band to King's X, hiding in the Advancing Noah Movement, made them available to me. They were at the hall were I was meeting some Saruvim Daredevil's after the audition that morning. A club of sorts, and they had a grand-kid who had joined Christforce. They knew about me, said I had a glowing rep, and asked if I wanted to use some of their sacred shit. Let me sing it for you boss.'
Jetydosa took the stage. 'This part is not a song, but a spoken word intro to the set. I'll just sort of play and sing it spokenly.'
'As you wish,' said Bossman.
Jetydosa checked his bass, which seemed fine, and began.
The Kids go to Nebraska
4 score and 7 years ago, not counting today, 3 gentle kids walked along a tired and dusty road. They did not know where they were going and they did not know where they had been, but they knew they were finding who they were, and having the fine and dandy time of their life. Everything was real – and everything was surreal – because they knew they had entered 'Gloryville', that ole Texas town of southern hospitality, fried chicken and gospel choir alleluias, but something wasn't quite right. 'Corruptors', one voice screamed. 'Our children are under their influence,' said another. 'Run em out of town,' said the sheriff. And so they got booted out of Gloryville 'We never fitted anyway,' said one of them. 'Too straight for me,' said another. The third kid carrying the drum-sticks said 'Look. A sign.' A sign, summarily blessed by the bounteous provision of angelic duty, shimmered down from upon high and suggested to them in radiant white letters. 'The Kids should try Nebraska.' 'Wasn't the whole point to get to Gloryville?' one of them asked. 'Nebraska sounds Mundane,' another suggested. Finally the kid with the drumsticks asked 'What do they do in Nebraska then?' Suddenly, a familiar looking young lady, with a big, bold and beautiful scarlet 'G' emblazoned over her dress dropped down from the heavenlies and smiled at them. 'Had your fill of Gloryville, huh?' They all nodded as one. She chuckled. 'Serves em right,' she thought to herself. 'Well, I FINALLY got to Nebraska myself. Auntie Christine had been beside herself with worry, my boyfriend from last summer had finally gotten tired of waiting and found another girl, and the job promised me was taken by another. So I ask you, my dear boyfriends, In going to Nebraska, was I too heavenly minded to be no earthly good?' The Kids stood perplexed. 'Exactly,' she wisely replied. 'So the next time the wisdom of the ages tries to kidnap you from your sensibly laid out earthly plans – GET THE HELL OVER IT, OK!!! Jesus!' And then she was off, back to her prior place of glory.' Finally one spoke. 'You know, remember when we just found who we were?' 'Reality intervened,' said another. 'Lets go to Nebraska,' said the kid with the drumsticks. And leaving nothing behind, and taking everything with them, they returned to the real world, and caught the next bus to Merriman, a lovely town in northern Nebraska, a place their destiny awaited.
'So waddya think boss?'
'Your on Friday night. Don't fuck up J Man. And let me see the music.'
Jetydosa smiled. Same old situation, but new material always worked wonders.
'Jendiel. You're a babe. Marry me.'
Jendiel the Saruvim looked at Radiel, head of Starpower Universal. She considered him. 'You have chased me for the last 1400 years, Radiel, and my answer has always been no. What makes you think I have a different answer this bright and happy day?'
'Listen, happy go lucky miss I'm perfect. In all your anglo-norman perfection, do you ever wonder if you need a man? You sit there every afternoon, after work, listening to Britten and Motorhead, the most diabolical pairing, and you think you are English royalty practically. Your brother tells me. He says you start with Britten and drink tea, and then, around 4, you put on your Motorhead T-Shirt, and close the front room door, and blast away at metal until 6 when your parents arrive home. And then all night its genealogical research into your human roots, which you take way too seriously for a Saruvim, and out comes the flag around 10 that evening, when you are watching Blackadder and Red Dwarf, and you clutch at the Union Jack and then knit until midnight. And all Saturdy – Tea parties with the 'English in Radendya'. For heaven's sake, we've only been here 5 centuries, and already you think you are one of them. Your posh accent has gotten posher, and then, all Sunday, the Spice Girls. And out comes the flag again, and Def Leppard all Sunday Night, and then work, and the week starts again on Monday, and you do the whole thing all over again.'
'Your point?' asked Jendiel.
'Your Saruvim. How about our culture, sweetie?'
'We barely have one. I've read 'The Life of Intensity' by Saruviel Seraphim, and that will do me. Besides, SFA is available on original copyright now anyway. You have to labour for centuries in prayer and fasting just to get an original poem from God nowadays. We have no culture left to us. Besides, I don't care. Grandmother was born in an English country in Eteryna, and that suits me fine. I like my English roots, and my human DNA as well thank you very much.'
'We have a culture,' said Radiel, a little annoyed. 'Starpower has many documents which are copyrighted and original manoeuvres for our starfleet as well. We have a sort of culture in our organisation.'
'Which is why I'm part of it, silly. But get over it Radiel. It will all be gone eventually one day. Everything original will be used up eventually. So we fit it. Get the hell over it.'
But Radiel's pride was strong. 'I don't quit so easily. At least the Saruvim should strive to claim what they can. I worked hard to get Starpower. Don't be so lame and copout to the other cultures so easily.'
'The answer is no. I won't marry you. Not until you change your tune and learn to bloody get along with everyone. They have all worked hard, those who have gone before us, so you should damn well appreciate the world they have built for us. Don't be such a snob, Radiel.'
'She's right,' said Varxanel. 'You are a bit of a snob.'
'I'll second that,' said Caltek, poking his head out from behind a newspaper in the Starfleet club.
'Yeh, definitely,' said Valderann.
'Humph,' said Radiel. 'Saruvim Daredevil's opinions are not worth that much anyway. As good as their flying, which is kind of pathetic.'
'Well I think your just a tad snobbish as well,' pitched in Trixiel the Saruvim, head of SuperMegaGlobalUniversalAstronomical Industries Pty Ltd. 'And I should know. In my world I deal with the elite all the time, believe me.'
'Yo, J! Am I a snob?'
The brown skinned Jetydosa looked up from his iPhone. 'Your the humblest bastard this world has ever known, dude!' replied Jetydosa, and returned to his texting.
'There you go,' said Radiel at the group proudly.
'But you tend to be a bit arrogant about it,' finished Jetydosa, texting away. The group chuckled a little, and Radiel blushed.
'I am sure there are greater snobs than yourself,' said Diagonel son of Dameriel, in a very strong Irish accent. 'The Lord knows he has dealt with many a challenging soul since the dawn of creation.'
'Thank you Diagonel,' replied Radiel. 'You appear to be my saviour.'
'That I am,' said Diagonel, smiling, which brought another chuckle from the group.
'The Saruvim should not be also rans. That's my fundamental point,' said Radiel, and said nothing more. One by one they all turned to look at him. He had stated his case. They were familiar with the argument.
'Then what are you all going to do about Radiel's challenge?' asked a voice, sitting down amongst them. They looked. It was Saruviel.
'Man, Radiel is full of it. Just party and don't sweat the shit. We got a good enough name. We got your name, many,' said Jetydosa.
'Yet Radiel desires a greater affirmation of self-glory,' replied Saruviel.
'Then tell him to fuck off north, which he won't,' said Varxanel. 'Saruvim Daredevil's sending an entire elite team, but Radiel won't go. Cause he doesn't want to miss him mommy. Boo hoo,' said Varxanel.
'It takes courage, that kind of plan,' said Saruviel warmly. 'But you are still young Radiel. A lot of commitment required as well.
'He's too weak to fast again,' said Trixiel. 'Says what he's done so far has taken it all out of him.'
'Perhaps that is true, though,' replied Saruviel. 'Sometimes we spend a little piece of our heart and soul in doing something, and sometimes its a piece which is not replaced that easily.'
'True,' replied Trixiel, and softened.
'We will find our glory in Time Archangel,' said Diagonel. 'It will take time, but we the Saruvim are still new in many ways, even though the oldest of us have been around a fair while now.'
'Yet not all have been born, yet, and still the greater majority to go,' said Saruviel. 'So you are still the new guns, the young guns, and you have a destiny to craft. And perhaps, looking at this gang of friends, a big part of the dream of that destiny could well be right here among us.'
'Let's hope so,' said Diagonel, to which the others nodded softly.
'Yeh, let's,' said Radiel, who risked a glance at his old man, and then turned and stared grimly into the distance outside the flyers club.
'Quang Low. Report to desk 4B6 immediately.'
Quang low heard the voice on the intercom, put down his soldering iron, and reported to desk 4B6 in 'Ultra Humanist Society Solutions Pty Ltd' Radendya operations plant. Radendya was a major city in Skylandria, along degrees 56, and at the moment many things were going on there. Especially the ministrations of Damien the Saruvim of Infinity, whose 'Ultra Humanist Society Solutions Pty Ltd' corporation was busily at work on his latest projects – 666iNterbrain.
'Quang. The Master is here. He will speak with you.'
Quang saluted, and as directed walked into the office nearby, sat calmly and without emotion on the chair opposite the red marble throne, which had a beautiful couch on it. Shortly the Master, Damien the Saruvim of Infinity, entered the room and sat down, looking at Quang.
'666 iNterbrain is ready then? Your reports indicate that all core objectives have been reached.'
Quang stroked his chin for a moment, and, upon consideration, nodded formally at his Master.
'The mind gathering trials. They were a success?' asked Damien.
'We linked 7000 minds together, and the strongest thoughts became dominant, especially when they were assented by other thoughts in agreement, which seemed to magnify them. But it fluctuated constantly, just like a dreamscape.'
'Excellent. And manipulation from the Central 666 iBrain CPU of dream motif and element. This has been achieved?'
'Generally, yes. The power input is of central importance, as a human mind simply seems to disconnect if too much power or influence is attempted. Something like hypnotism, it can't seem to directly contradict your will. But certain drugs can influence the will well enough to achieve what we ideally need,' replied Quang. 'But May I ask a question, sir?'
'The second revelation of John. Certainly, they have prayed for and predicted the rise of our beast, and likely the Most High has informed them of our plans somewhat, so what shall be the outcome of our work?'
'The last revelation failed, didn't it?' asked Damien.
'That is a matter of perspective, sir. Most of Christ Jesus objectives have been fulfilled since then, and the Church still continues onwards. They have not failed their primary charter to destroy the Lord Satan eternally yet.'
'I doubt the freaks will quit any time soon myself,' responded Damien. 'So we oppose them till we eternally nullify their strength.'
'Not simply assassinating Jesus will resolve the issue?' queried Quang.
'Would not work. He would be resurrected from Sheol if he did not choose his own death. Life always has permission to go forth if it is not choosing death for itself, and avoids wilful destruction of other life. It's why the Saruvim don't directly kill anyone. Old tempters, my friend. We do our best to corrupt, but the ultimate test of life always lies with the one giving into the temptation. If they can't resist, then the Most High accepts our work. If they can't fight for life, we win, and our powerbase grows.'
'Thus the war with the church,' said Quang to himself.
'Return to work immediately. And I will speak with you again next year.'
'Yes Master,' replied Quang Low, and returned to his work station, picked up his soldering iron, and continued on with the work of the 666 iNterbrain project, not for once caring about the response of the Christian Church, not for once caring about the delicate words of prophesy of St John of the Apocalypse, the Revelator himself.
Well, needless to say, life went on, and on, and on, and on. As much has been lived prior, was lived again. And again, and again, and yet again, in many profound cycles of life, adventure, mystery and amazement. Dreams came to be, and some dreams did not really eventuate to much in the end anyway. But for a new beginning, there has to be an old ending, and here it endeth for this first cycle of storytelling, and the chronicles of the children of destiny is complete, and the angels saga is finished, and for this first cycle of things, my work is done. And this final word from the stars of our story....
'Michael. You know, I have a bigger dick than yours. A solid 8 inches,' said Saruviel. 'I am duly informed your erection reaches a maximum of about 6.'
Michael did not comment.
'That's not bad. For a Rothchild I suppose. But hardly real man meat,' said Saruviel.
Michael, again, did not comment.
'So, you know, that sort of sums it up, I suppose,' said Saruviel.
Michael turned to look at Saruviel. 'Krystabel.'
'Yes,' replied Saruviel.
'Small tits. Hardly exist,' he said.
'Elenniel. Nice tits, aren't they.'
Saruviel glared at Michael for a moment, and turned to look out at the ripples of golden lake.
Finally 'But I've got a bigger dick schmuck.'
'Bite me,' replied Michael.
'Sit on it,' replied Saruviel.
And two warring parties, warred on yet more, and life, as we know it..........................
The Children of Fate
Beautiful music. Then peace. And a rainbow of all things, with birds chirping and the world alive with splendour. And everything was right. And everything was good. And all was well. Everything being as it should.
And she awoke..........
'You know,' said Seth. 'I don't place much faith in dreams, Adah, and I think its just a vanity anyway. Your soul telling you you are an egomaniac sweetie.'
'Well, I choose the role of Fate then. I know its me. I feel it – in me.'
Seth looked at his twin, child of heaven. 'Eve wants the role of fate. She has expressed as such.'
'But she is settling on Destiny. I have made it clear. The role of Fate is mine. I won't back down. My dream is crystal clear in what it wants. Eve is full of good will, you know. But she can't cut the cord and get on with the job. I can do that, and I can resolve the ruddy issues. Fate is moi – Eve is good for nothing but Destiny.'
'You know,' said Seth, as he brought some pasties out of the oven and looked at them. 'That's right in many ways. You usually do have the last word in things.'
'We're not all saints, Seth. I'm real. I get the job done.'
'Then behold the children of Fate,' smiled Seth at his sister.
'Amen,' responded Adah, 8th born of the 70 children of Heaven.
Lost in the 7th Heaven
The Seven Heaven's of the Children of Heaven. The Seven Heavens of Heaven. Far below were the Seven Heavenly Realms, which bore other names, but the true Seven Heavens of the Firstborn Children of Heaven were special domains, places of wonder, places of imagination. And the firstborn of the 70 Children of Heaven – Adam and Eve – were lost in the seventh and most enigmatic of the seven heavens.
'Prefex Crudlecut. I do believe,' began Adam. 'That the scroll of enlightenment is with your esteemed personage.'
'It is wise of you to think this,' said Prefex, in between the smoking of his pipe and the checking of his sums in his days accounts books. 'But bother me not firstborn, for I shan't give it to you. Bwah.'
Eve studied the goblinesque Prefex' face. 'You can't deny us. We've completed the quest of Enlightenment, the first of the 7 challenges of Samael, and you are required to give us the scroll of Enlightenment, for we KNOW you possess it.'
'Bah. Humbug,' replied Prefex. 'Go away firstborns. Can't you see I am busy.'
But Eve stood her ground, and Adam grabbed Prefex by his shoulders. 'Little man. Give us the damn scroll.'
'Put me down,' said Prefex, upon which Adam released him. 'Very well then. Seeing as you now know, here is the scroll. Consider its secrets well, for Samael's challenges, well...........Well few ever complete all seven.'
'Bah humbug yourself,' replied Adam, and took the scroll which Prefex produced from his green overcoat inner pocket.
The first of Samael's 7 part challenge had taken them on quite a merry chase around the 7 heavens, and now, completely lost as they were, in the heart of a complex labyrinth of villages, they had finally found Prefex in a small store on a disused backstreet, counting his day's takings. A goblinesque seller of magical wares by all accounts, but they now had the scroll of Enlightement and had completed Samael's first challenge.
'I dare thee. Complete my seven challenges and I shall repent even more so,' were the proud words of Samael of Heaven. Yet, after several months consideration, Adam sat down with Michael the Archangel, and they agreed Adam and Eve may as well have a go. There lives were in their own hands, but Samael's challenges, known for their trickery and cunning, were not designed to take life. They should be ok, even if they failed them.
'What now?' Eve asked her twin Adam.
'We return to the first heaven for a good long rest. And a study of the Scroll, for Samael has set us no time limit. I will want to ponder it, and think through what it says, and consult with Michael and the others.'
'Wise, brother,' said Eve. 'If we can overcome, and complete all these seven challenges, we shall reap a better world for all of us. For Sammy's influence runs the entirety of the realms of God, it seemeth to me, and a more repented Samael, a happier world for lovers of peace.'
'Amen,' said Adam. 'So let's get going, and find a way out of this labyrinth. I think we can be home within the month if we put our heads together.'
'Yes, within the month,' said Eve.
It took them three.
Callodyn and Kayella XI: Sweet & Sour
They were having Chinese – food.
'You know, they have been doing studies,' said Callodyn, greedily devouring fried pork chops.
'I'm sure they have,' responded Kayella, and belched to get her food down.
'Slow down sweetie. Your not eating the Titanic.' Callodyn looked at the large pile of Chinese grub Kayella had piled up on her plate. 'Then again, maybe you are.'
'Shaddup,' she replied, and belched again. 'You were saying?'
'Oh. Yeah,' said Callodyn, wondering if his twin would eat everything on her plate. 'They've been doing studies. On people and the food they eat and their personalities. And they have found some amazing connections.'
'How so?' asked Kayella, and started on her 5th spring roll.
'Take your diet, for example. Mostly bland these days. This chinese is like the first in, what? A century or something?'
'Something like that,' she replied.
'But Kayella usually eats raw beans and corn, practically sterile non-fat bread, and milk so fat reduced its practically water.'
'After endless aeons of weight issues, never again buddie,' she replied, sauce dripping from the side of her mouth.
'Yep. A completely bland diet,' said Callodyn.
'As bland as possible,' replied Kelly.
'Right,' said Daniel. 'And that is were it is kind of interesting. You see, they have found this link in personality types and food consumption. Sweet personalities tend to like sugary and sweet foods. Like chocolate and donuts and so forth. And the funny thing is, if a person has a somewhat sour disposition, they tend to like lemons and tart foods quite a bit.'
Kelly paused and looked at him, the slightest worry of a frown emerging on her forehead.
'Of course, if its a very conservative or basic diet,' continued Callodyn. 'How shall I put it? Oh, I know. A bland diet. Then the logic dictated......' he trailed off.
'What?' she asked, mouth agape.
'Just saying,' replied Callodyn , and picked up the TV remote and turned on the A Team.
Kelly looked at Callodyn for a moment, and then put down her plate.
Softly, she cuddled up next to her Callodyn, and watched the A Team with him.
'I'll eat normal again soon,' she said softly.
Callodyn put his arm around her and held her tight.
'Eat what you want. I love you anyway.'
And she heard his words, and watched the A Team, and everything was right in the world. Everything was right.
4 O'Clock 15
God was bored. It was 4 in the morning. Too late and too damn early for everything, really. He snuck out the back for a cigarette. It was a mild autumn night. The year was getting colder. A little bit of tobacco got caught in his throat, and he coughed for a bit. Then he sat on the couch at the back of his 29 Merriman crescent address and said out loud to the universe 'What next?'
A figure fell suddenly into view and crashed on the grass in the back yard of 29 Merriman right in front of him. God was too old to flinch. His eyebrows raised a notch.
The figure slowly got to his feet, dusted himself off, looked skywards and said 'Bastard. I'll get you for that.' He was dressed in a white tunic, akin to a Roman robe, and noticed the old man in front of him smoking.
'Oh, ha ha. I'll bet you are having a jolly good laugh.'
God did not respond.
'Jesus, is that tobacco? I haven't had tobacco since Elvis snuffed it.'
'Quite a wait,' said God.
'Tell me about it,' replied the man. God suddenly noticed the wings.
'You're an angel,' said God.
'Only in training. Trillions of years of that so far, but still a trainee. There's long service for ya. Say, don't I know you old man. You look familiar. Well never mind. Boot me out of heaven into Eternya. He's got a cheek.'
God studied the figure. You are from the old world, aren't you? Before everything I know began?'
'Oh,' said the angel. 'You're him, aren't you. Yes. The old world. You were modelled on us. The Noah thing. He had to start again. A big pain in his head called Saruviel who insisted he was number 7. Saruviel. I mean what kind of name is that? So gives us all a certain amount of knowledge, brings us to heaven when we kark it, but the dream ends because he has other ideas/ Don't get me wrong, I like my slice of paradise. But I finally redeemed my 17th and last book,and I haven't had a new tale to read in aeons. Blow me down he's a tough one.'
The angel looked at God. 'You may choose 47 items. Funny, they said it was a holiness man who took his position for granted. Didn't figure it would be you.'
'What are you talking about?' asked God..
'You're going home,' said the angel. Wolfgang DeBear. First on the list. So take my hands, for you are coming with me my young son. Don't worry about anyone else. They will all join you in time.'
And somehow Wolfgang took the angels hand, and he was gone, gone forever.
Callodyn & Kayella XII: Charity Time
'Come on,' said Ambriel. 'It's charity time kids. Out we go, spreading the message of God's love, and with hands open wide to feed the poor, we spread the love of God and fulfil our holy mitzvah of charity.'
Callodyn looked at the turnout at 'Ambriels Grand Redemption of the Lost and Struggling' event, advertized internationally, and well known all over the region of Eternya they were currently in. 'Great turnout bro,' said Callodyn. '3 souls. You, me and Kayella.'
Ambriel looked at Callodyn. 'Daniel and Valandriel are running the other venue cross city. They say they have a good turnout. At least 5 or 6. But that's all we need. Cheer up, bro. Out we go to the mission field.'
'Wonderful,' responded Callodyn dryly.
They knocked on doors to begin with – Jehovah's witness style. It began the same way. 'Do you need the love of Jehovah?' Too many doors slammed that morning that Ambriel got what Callodyn called 'The fucking point.'
'Well, I have the soup van ready. We now find the poor and hungry.'
'Radendya has a comprehensive welfare system,' responded Callodyn. 'They have official public servants who find people on the streets and treat them for what is usual mental illnesses of various kinds. There isn't really any poverty here any more.'
'Then we share the good news of God's love,' said Ambriel, now inspired by that great news.
'Religion is strong here,' replied Callodyn.
'Yep, very,' said Kayella. 'The 7 Divine Fellowships have a stronghold in this region ironically. Dan's doing great here.'
'There's even a Messianic Ministries chapter on the southside,' said Callodyn, regarding Ambriel's own ministry.
'Grreeaat',' said Ambriel, a little nonplussed. 'Then, uh, what do we do?'
'We go home, put on the A Team, and get the hell over it. The issues were addressed by Eternya a long time ago, bro.'
Ambriel looked defeated.
'You can give me some hot soup,' said Kayella, smiling at Ambriel. He handed her a cup of hot soup. 'Cheers,' she responded, and sipped on the quite tasty chicken noodle soup.
'Time to go home. The war was won a long time ago,' said Callodyn.
And Ambriel sighed, and worried once more were the theophany had disappeared to, but remembered the love and grace and mercy of God in this new world which had it all worked out now, and came home with Callodyn and Kayella, and enjoyed the A Team, and sighed at an age long heart finally having won its mission.
Kelly was complex. Well, no. Not really. Not really in the end, thought Callodyn from time to time. In fact, she was a dolt. All things considered, generally, a dolt. But he loved her anyway.
'You know, Kelly. You are an incredible woman.'
Kelly looked squarely at him. 'My thighs are correct for my body type,' she responded.
'And you have a great imagination,' continued Callodyn.
'And Ice Cream is from heaven, because fire is from hell,' she stated.
'And you have excellent musical talent.'
'Taylor's breasts are quite small,' said Kelly offhandedly.
'You motivate people,' said Callodyn.
'These, though, are quite ample you would admit,' she said, holding her cleavage.
'And all things considered you are quite inspiring.'
'There bigger than Katy's too,' said Kelly.
Callodyn looked at Kelly's breasts. 'You are kidding, aren't you? Katy has a magnificent pair.'
'Traditional men prefer curves,' said Kelly, sitting down next to him, and looking at B A Baracus argue with Mad Dog Murdoch.
'Mmm. Yes. You are an inspiration,' said Callodyn.
Kelly watched the A Team in silence for a while.
'Ambriel actually does have a decent size penis. He showed me recently.'
Callodyn turned to look at his twin.
'It's well formed, and quite attractive,' she said. 'Largish too. 7 inches, by the looks of it. He had an erection.'
'Humph,' said Callodyn, and turned off the A Team and went to the bookcase.
Kelly sat in silence for a while, and then looked at Callodyn. He was rifling around in the bottom forbidden-to-women section.
'Here it is,' he said at last.
He sat down next to her. She looked at it. 'Seraphim Penises. By Seraphim Gloryel.'
'Uh, were did you get that?' she asked nervously.
Callodyn grinned a little. 'Found it around the house once. No idea were it came from. I made sure it was well out of sight. Here it is. Page 60. Seraphim Ambriel.'
They looked together at the 5 inch erection.
'You know,' said Kelly. 'The Lord does amazing things with prayer.'
'DNA does not lie,' said Callodyn firmly.
'Humph,' replied Kelly.
'Heh heh,' finished Callodyn.
* * * * *
Talzudiel looked at the curried egg sandwich. 'Yeh, sure,' he said. 'Looks great Winnie.'
'Oh, I thought you liked Curried egg. We can have it all week if you like,' she said shining.
'Yeh. You love the stuff, don't you,' he said dismally.
'Can't live without it,' she replied.
'How is Eloenuel?' he asked her.
'Doing well. We've been together, I don't know, these last 40 odd years now, you know. Sort of hung around for a while, and then moved in. It's been great having him as a guest.'
'All it is I suppose,' said Talzudiel.
Winoniel looked at her brother. 'Why do you ask?'
'Never mind,' said Talzudiel, and glared at his nemesis, the curried egg sandwich.
'Aren't you going to eat that?' she asked, as she sat down.
'Be my guest,' he responded, and passed it to her.
'Thanks,' she said. 'I'm sure I can eat two.' She began munching away, but looked at him. He seemed glum. She put down her sandwich. 'Whatever is the matter Tallie? Is something not right?'
'We're good friends. Aren't we?' he said.
'We sure are,' she responded. 'The best, now. I would imagine. A lot of history, you know bro. We've been around each other on and off forever now.'
'Your farts. They smell. When you eat curried eggs.' There. He blurted it out.
She looked at him in silence for a while, and looked down at her eggs. She stood, took the plate of sandwiches to the kitchen, and returned with an orange, which she peeled and started eating.
After a while she started sobbing gently.
'I knew that was it. Kelly was subtle, not long ago. But she dropped the hint.'
'I'm sorry,' he said.
'You really needn't be,' she replied. 'I mean, I do know. You know. I just haven't wanted to admit it.'
'Mm. So there it is,' he said.
'There it is,' she replied.
* * * * *
He looked at the three rings. 3 Eternity rings. New rings. Forever rings. There was a condition of acceptance which went with them. They accepted that there were 3, and that there would never, ever, again, be more than 3. That it would be that, and no more. And if the twin was the ultimate thing, ultimately, then he had 1 for Kelly, and the other 2 would have their freedom. Callodyn looked at them. They were plain stainless steel rings, with no fuss about them, but softly moulded around the edges. He wanted the 'Stainless' word associated with them. He insisted on that.
Taylor agreed after a few hours thought.
Katy said she needed to think about it. About 3 years later she accepted it. Luladiel had mad an eternity choice, and would live with the consequences.
He had saved Kelly for last.
* * * * *
'Well, I'm an Aries,' said Kelly. 'So its eternity you are asking for, is it?'
Callodyn looked at his beloved. 'For fuck's sake. Star signs?'
'You studied them. Didn't you?'
'When I was young,' he said softly. 'I didn't know you were an Aries. You never mentioned.'
'We're good as twins. Foils for each other,' said Kelly, eating ice cream. Not eternal mates. I never really committed to that with you Callodyn. You have too much pride anyway. In being a scorpio. I know you believe in that. It's that scorpio picture in the den. You think Scorpio is cool.'
'I do...........not. Well, yes, actually I do. But that doesn't matter Kell.'
'And you need a rat. Your chinese sign. It's all you'll accept when you go into the Zodiac one day.'
'20th of November 1972. Yep, I'm a rat,' he replied. 'Scorpio rat. The kind of fellow who will give you the black plague.'
'Your pride. Unbelievable. That's all you will get into your head one day. And knowing you she'll have to be a younger lady. Just your male arrogance.'
'But I don't know any fucking scorpio rats,' swore Callodyn, annoyed.
'Don't look at me,' said Taylor. 'I'm a saggitarius.'
'For fuck' sake,' said Callodyn.
Katy turned away from the PC, and the other girls looked at her briefly. Taylor stood, walked to Callodyn and handed her eternity ring back. 'You'll never want me in the end anyway,' she said.
Callodyn looked aghast as she left the room.
Kelly said, 'Nut. You don't want me,' and returned to her ice cream, and then left the room.
Callodyn was miserable. Judged by stupid astrology.
'And what the fuck are you?' he asked Katy, as he lost his anger for the first time in front of her ever.
'What do you think I am?' she asked him.
'The odds of you being a scorpio rat? Let me see. 1 in 144. 12 times 12.'
'When was I born?' she asked, smiling.
'Uh, october something. 24th I think. Um, hey, that makes you a scorpio, doesn't it? But your not a rat.'
'1984,' she said, coming to sit next to him. 'Year of the fucking rat buster.'
Callodyn looked at his wife. He looked out of the room, at his two dearly departed, and looked at the one who remained.
'For fuck's sake,' he said under his breath.
'Good to see you've come around buster,' said Katy.
And that was all she wrote.
Callodyn and Kayella XIII: True Love
'You know, Callie. I do love you,' said Kelly, the angel Kayella.
'Humph. You walked out on me. Said our starsigns were incompatible, and that Luladiel, who is a Scorpio-Rat just like myself is all that I would ever be happy with. So much for love,' he replied, as he sat at the desk of their home in Eternya at the North Pole, the flat which they shared and liked to live in together.
'It doesn't mean I don't love you,' responded Kayella the Callophim, for while they were indeed Cherubim angels, they also were part of a special class called 'The Callophim' which was reserved for the two of them and their offspring. 'Anyway, what are you doing?' she asked, as she looked over his shoulder. He had a stamp album opened, with some ancient earth stamps in it.
'Hey. They are ancient,' she said. 'From the first epoch of life on earth. When it all began. I recognize them,' said Kayella.
'I have ALL my stuff,' said Callodyn proudly. 'Kept it all forever. At Callophon, deep down in the earth, there are sublevels upon sublevels of accumulated possessions from my eras of life. I haven't parted with a damn thing, no matter the offers I have had. Just like Daniel, and Valandriel for a long time now as well. It's the pact of stability we formed as a tryptych once. Oh, Cherubim Daniel Daly sold us the idea, so he is just like that as well.'
Kayella looked at the stamps. 'Uh, do you have any of my old stuff? I sort of normally move with the times, you know. If I need an old book or something, I just buy it again.'
'Eternya prayer is not cheap, dear sister, and it has cost me an eternity of service and cash to afford all my things, and you expect me to look out for you as well?'
'Oh, just wondering,' said Kayella.
'Humph,' said Callodyn.
'They're nice stamps,' she said, and disappeared off to the kitchen.
Later on, when she was watching replays of the recent winter olympics on TV, Callodyn came in and sat down next to her. 'I keep just a few things here. I don't like to have them out of storage normally, but these few I keep in my personal safe, and I thought, if you promise to keep it forever and ever and ever, and bloody mean it, you can have it back.' He handed her a copy of 'Stronger' on CD – the album, not the single. It was the original.
'Fuck,' she swore, for the first time in a long time. 'Where the hell did you get that?'
'I owned a few copies. Yes, I actually collected you on earth before we even met each other all over again. Probably instinct in some ways, but you were also a popular pop act, winning the Idol thing. I have a couple of copies, and you can have this one if you promise to never, ever, for all eternity, part with it. And swear black and blue.'
She looked at him, deep into his eyes, and said. 'Ok. I'll wear your eternity ring, and I will keep it forever. But not for marriage, but eternal friendship. I won't betray that. You will have to work for more if you want more. If you want True Love.'
He handed her the CD, and as they sat back listening to the album which she put on their stereo, she slid herself into his strong arms, and sighed. An ancient thing lost, restored. Which had been kept forever.
Oh what hidden joy you were Callodyn the Cherubim, thought Kayella the Callophim. Oh what hidden joy.
By the Power of the Rainbow
'By the power of Grayskull. I have the power,' said little Graham Daly, Callodyn's new son, part of a set of twins, to Kayella.
'You know, Grayskull is kind of lame,' said the 13 yearl old Listra, his twin. 'For example. By the power of the Rainbow I have the power,' she said, and held up her 'My Littlest Pony' with the Rainbow hair into the air.
'That is sooo gay,' said Graham. 'Girls stuff is for.......' he was lost for words.
'Girls, Idiot,' replied Listra.
'Boys have all the cool stuff. You were left with the leftovers when God made everything,' said Graham.
Kayella and Callodyn, this chrismas day morning, watched on amused as the kids continued opening their presents.
'And your 13, Listra. Whey the heck do you need another my littlest pony. Grow up.'
'I am collecting them. It's a special 'North Pole of Eternya' series they are still running. They have new rights on the ancient set, and it is a carefully dated box which mummie got for me.'
'Is that right?' asked Callodyn, turning to Kayella.
'Uh, shit. Did I forget to mention that? Oh, you know. Girl's business,' she replied tartly.
'Right,' said Callodyn, looking over at the box. New collectable stuff was impossible to get now – anywhere in the universe, practically. All copyrights and patents and new product lines had disappeared long ago, and it was extremely rare that anything passed with the new Eternya dates, but a rare item did make the news which had been passed by the Eternya council on commodities, headed by Saruviel of Eternity, who was very strict on such allowances.
'And boys are all gay,' said Listra, and poked her tongue out at her brother. 'So stick it.'
Graham poked his tongue out back at her, and returned to his HeMan figure.
'By the Power of the Rainbow, where the hell did you find that pony?' asked Callodyn. 'The run must have been enormous for you to have bothered. Prices would have been unbelievable otherwise.'
'Well, I've been saving a long time,' said Kayella proudly. 'And Krystabel sent me an email on the run.'
'Ahh,' said Callodyn. 'Insider trading. I see.'
'No it wasn't!' she quickly retorted. 'She found out for herself fair and square. Saruviel had nothing to do with it.'
'Right,' said Callodyn, arms folded, tapping his fingers on his elbow. 'Sure. I believe you.'
'Humph,' said Kayella. 'Anyway, by the power of the Rainbow, girls save their stuff. We don't release it all at once, you know.'
Callodyn grumbled on that point.
'Unlike, say, George Lucas. 17 bladzillion bloody Star Wars figures, and now he hasn't had a new product in googols. All run dry. Male wisdom. Spend it all at once. A woman likes to make things last, however.'
'What can I say,' grinned Callodyn. 'When a man has finished his business, he usually likes to take a nap.'
'Your disgusting,' responded Kayella.
Not 4 hours of 'Yes, yes, yes. Ooh, put it there.'
'Freak,' said Kayella, now grinning.
'Do you want to find out why we finish our work so quickly?' he asked her, coming up to her and putting his arms around her.
'By the power of the Rainbow I do compel thee,' she replied.
And he kissed her. And it was good.
But he still only lasted 5 minutes.
He was at Pine Island, but it was another world, and another reality. A true reality. The Real world.
The moon glowed. He looked up at it. Sarcasm suggested he howled, but he put that thought away from him. He looked down at his feet. He had no shoes. In this endless night he had been wandering through since arriving in a crazy sort of way, Wolfang had lost them somewhere along the way, but now knew where he was. A Tuggeranong. A Pine Island. In a VERY real environment.
'Where are you?' he asked.
Finally a voice responded.
'I AM WHO I AM. AND NONE ELSE IS I. SO TASTE REALITY FOR A WHILE, WOLFGANG DEBEAR, AND I WILL RETURN YOU TO 'HOME' EVENTUALLY'. LET THIS PINE ISLAND MOONGLOW GUIDE YOU. IT WILL SPEAK TO YOU IN DESPERATE HOURS. FAREWELL TILL YOUR TIME IS SERVED, AND YOU ETERNALLY KNOW JUST WHO I AM AND WHO I AM NOT.'
The trail ended after a while, and he came out in Lanyon valley. He found a familiar looking service station, and went up to the cashier. The place was locked, but he could order something from the window.
'Two cottage pies, please. And a bottle of coke,' said Wolfgang.
'Look, dude. Are you sure you have the cashola?'
Wolfgang looked at him. 'Can you give an old man a break?'
'Are you a pensioner?' asked the cashier.
'I should be,' responded Wolfgang.
'I shouldn't be doing this, but put your name and address on this slip, and we will send you a bill.'
'I don't have an address, but I can call in. You can trust me,' said Wolfgang, and smiled tentatively.
'Jesus Christ,' swore the cashier, and soon returned with two hot pies and a bottle of coke.
The place looked familiar.
'I wonder, are there real equivalent people here?' Wolfgang thought out loud.
A guardian angel whispered in his head. 'Try Daniel Thomas Andrew Daly at 29 Merriman Crescent in Macarthur. He lives with his mother Mary Daly. This is the real world, though. He doesn't really know you yet.'
God ate his pies. He drank his coke. They were – amazing. Far realer than he had ever experienced.
This brave new world would take some getting used to.
Thank God for the Moonglow.
The Glory of Zaphon
Cindradel. 61st female Seraphim of the Realm of Eternity. Constant and eternal chief secretary to the everchanging overseer of Zaphon, and boy had she seen a few now. Really, she ran the show. Everyone knew that. She'd served there forever, seen a trillion styles, a trillion authoritarians and a trillion ways of doing things. She knew it all, now. Literally. She was the heart of eternity to God, these days, because the overseer of Zaphora itself, Michael, was always out and about around the world, and never lodged for any great time in Zaphora, settling down, and getting over his wanderlust. But Cindradel had remained, and she was now God's heart, just like Valandriel in many ways, who never moved from his base of operations, and had eternally stabilized. But Cindradel was a solo girl. It was not so much that she hated her twin – it was that she despised him. Zakiel, currently dealing drugs in a shady district way out in greater outer Eternya, did not give a shit. About anything, really. He was a Serbian crackhead, and she mocked him for it whenever he was in town, coz he really shoulda fuckin gotten the fuken hell over it by now, in Cindradel's own well chosen words. Zakiel hadn't – a loser for all time to come, in Cindradel's fine estimation. But, no matter. She preferred to fuck her dildo anyway, and that was the way it had been since God knows when. She wouldn't bother with another man apart from her twin. Just didn't give much of a damn about that idea. And while she knew in her heart Zakiel would last the eternal distance, something in him which got it right in the end, he would never live up to much, ever. Would he? No. No way. Not possible. Not for the scummiest Seraphim of them all.
'You know, babe,' said Zakiel, as he chatted up the office worker in the main office section of the overseers level of Zaphon tower. 'You really are quite a fucking hot babe.'
'Gee, you sure know how to charm a gal,' said the Cherubim. 'But forget it, ok, Zakkie. You know I have a guy. You never learn.'
'Aw, well. Can't blame a guy for trying.'
'Yes, he is exactly that,' said Cindradel, as she walked past, returned from a rare lunch at the cafeteria, for she nearly always ate at her desk. 'Very trying.'
'Yes boss,' said the Cherubim female, and got back to work immediately.
'What do you want, loser?' asked Cindradel, glaring at Zakiel as he slimily came up to her desk and sat down on the free chair.
'Just want to visit my main gal,' said Zakiel. 'No ulterior motive. Honest to God,' he said, saluting her.
'Sure,' said Cindradel, and started opening up the mail which had been delivered to her desk.
'Actually, can you lend me a few million realm credits. I'm kind of broke at the moment. Debts to pay and all.'
'For heaven's bloody sake. Are you kidding me? Halfway around the universe you travel to borrow money? I'll give it to you, you sure have a hide, Zak.'
'You know me,' he said smiling.
She finished off writing a cheque for 5 million realm credits and handed it to him. 'Don't spend it on drugs, idiot. The realm doesn't like them in the inner discs at all now.'
'Scouts honour,' he said saluting. And then, just as quick as he had come, he was gone, pinching the cherubim gal he fancied on the bottom as he walked past, which was responded with a raised index finger.
'What a fucking dickhead. Thanks God,' she grumbled sarcastically to herself, as she got on with opening the mornings mail delivery.
Later on, the overseer buzzed her in.
'Cindradel, just wanted to thank you for all the hard work and good advice you have been giving me. I know I'm new to this job still. Only a decade and still managing to get used to it all, but you have been so incredibly invaluable. I see why everyone tells me you really run the show. Anyway, I have a request. Sort of an emergency. There has been an overdose, just downtown Zaphona city. I think you know the fella. It's your twin, Zakiel. He's ok, alright. Don't worry. But he appears to be in really bad shape. I thought I'd tell you. I just emailed the hospital location to you.'
'God!' she said, and she almost slipped off her chair. 'Uh, sure. Ok. Look, I'll finish up today as normal, but I could use tomorrow off if that is ok.'
'I wouldn't hear of it,' he said. 'You have rec leave of so many years now, the computer has a hard time computing it all. Just take some leave, and get back to us when you can. We'll do fine, honest.'
'Sure,' she said. 'Well, ok,' and stood, and nervously went back to her desk.
'Fucking asshole, Zakiel,' she said to herself at her desk and then, softly, started sobbing, her face in her hands.
Nobody said anything. They left her alone. They knew the issue.
* * * * *
'So the whole point, dickhead,' said Cindradel, as she fed Zakiel his mushed food, for his whole system was paralyzed for the time being, and it would be centuries before a full recovery kicked in with his immune system. 'Is that, eventually, we are supposed to get the hell over it. That is the point of Torah. Get the hell over being such a sinner about it all in the end.'
'I knnnnnooooowww,' he replied, through a slurred mouth, and then she shoved in more of the apple puree.
'So I have decided to finally sort out Captain Dickhead, and am on leave for the forseeable future. You will not eat, sleep or shit, without my permission, buster. And if I see you so much as look at a telephone to ring one of your dealers, your ass will be in so much shit that the sewerage works will have to make special visits.'
He chuckled on that, then moaned because it hurt when he laughed.
'God sent me a basket case. I will deal with the basket case,' sighed Cindradel. 'And one way or another, I will redeem the already good name of Cindradel the Seraphim. ONE WAY OR ANOTHER,' She said menacingly to her twin.
His moan in response summed it all up.
Dirty Dancing in the Moonlight
'Now I'm gonna cut loose. Footloose,' said cherubim Daniel Daly.
'You can dance with all the sophistication of a bunyip,' commented Marcus Chuan Chi Chin. 'Sorry Dan, but you just can't dance. I am afraid it is not your virtue, my dearest friend.'
Daniel acknowledged the point and stopped his, actually reasonable, dancing, and sat back down. It was his birthday party again, and the usual turnout. Marcus CCC, Rebecca Hill, Isaac Lane and Tony Beer. Rob Preston would be dropping around later with Chris White, and Justin Angold would probably bring a beer around that evening. His trusted friends. God – Wolfgang – was away at the moment. He, Wolfgang and Wormdog, were a tight group these days. Wolfgang called Dan, along with Doug Pinnick, just about his best friends in the world. And that was actually the case.
'He's off somewhere,' said Rihanna Fenty, to Daniel. 'Don't worry about it Dan. He'll be back. When he learns what he needs to learn, the old idiot.'
'Sure,' Daniel had replied. He missed God. They played 500 and Chess. And when Daniel was up to it, they played Bridge together at the Deakin Bridge Club. He missed the old fart.
'This is an Adamide Fellowship party today, right?' asked Marcus, sipping on a can of Coke.
'Yeh, I guess,' said Daniel Daly. 'It's its time on the 7 year rotation of 7DF.'
'Then ask Jessica Cornish to teach you to dance,' said Marcus.
'She's very popular. Her time is difficult to get,' replied Daniel.
'Not impossible, though. Your from her generation. She recognizes you somewhat. You have her original CDs. She values her original fans. They all do.'
'True,' said Daniel.
'You have an email address for original fans,' said Marcus. 'I assume she doesn't get that many these days. Mozart replies to my emails every few centuries when I send him one. We are actually friends these days.'
'I'll think about it,' said Daniel. 'I don't want to bother her though.'
'Isn't she a member of Haven Adamide Fellowship anyway?'
'Technically,' said Daniel defensively. 'She did join for a while. Said the religious lifestyle wasn't for her, but she did like our teaching.'
'Then hit her up, Daniel San. You certainly have nothing to do with your twin.'
'Lourdes Leon Ciccone? You must be kidding right. Haven't even met her since the new world of Eternya began.'
'No, you haven't,' said Marcus. 'So hit up Jessie J.'
'Sure. Why not,' said the Cherubim Daniel Daly. But he had doubts.
The following birthday in the HAF cycle, 7 years later, Jessie J was present, and it was an evening party. She said she could make it in a while. When he suggested the date in a about 6 years from when he had sent the email, she promised she would make it if she could. She'd shown.
'Would you like to dance?' Daniel asked Jessie.
Marcus and Rebecca watched on.
And so they danced, in the moonlight, and Daniel was bold, and grabbed her butt. She looked at him very quickly, into his eyes, but softened, and allowed the dance, his hands firmly glued to her butt.
Later on, that night, in Daniel's bedroom, they were glued to more than just her butt.
But that's another story.
Quadel and Layelliel
'She's got Bette Davis eyes,' said the director, Quadel, of the latest remake of 'Done with mirrors'.
'Well, she's Bette Davis, idiot,' responded his right hand man, Duncan McFarling.
'Yes, Quaddie. I'm Bette Davis,' smiled Bette Davis.
'Such a tool,' said the actress playing Miss Marple, and shook her head.
'Right, action,' said Quadel, and began filming.
Later. This is the life, isn't is, Quad. Hollywood, Eternya. Working with old scripts now, right in the heart of the North Pole. These rights don't get released by the council much. But there are still countless original potential scene and angle shots for these new productions, and so many actors faces in key roles still haven't been done yet,' said Dunan McFarling, assistant producer to many of Quadel the Serphim's film productions.
Quadel the Seraphim was the 36th male Seraphim of the Realm of Eternity, and currently resided in the North Pole of Eternya, in Hollywood, were he currently directed new films, but mostly lived on ancient royalties.
'I suppose you could say that,' responded Quadel, sipping on a beer, looking out at the hollywood scenery, in their luxury apartment, just down from the Hollywoodland sign.
Duncan turned to his ancient bestie. 'What's up, Quaddie? You have been in this mood as of late. What, aren't you getting enough or something?'
'I'm getting plenty,' sighed Quadel, and turned and went inside and sat down on a couch. Duncan soon followed him and sat down opposite.
'Then what's the problem? This has always been what you've wanted? I know you get down from time to time – I've lived through plenty of that with you over the years. Failed productions, problems with bad actresses, all sorts of shit. But at the moment it's like there is this little light in Quadel which is only shining at half strength. Something is bothering you. Something deep, deep down.'
Quadel looked at his bestie. 'Not even King's X are cheering me up these days. And I love their songmaking glory. Oh, it's a heart issue Duncan. And I know what the problem is. I know.'
'Then do something about it,' said Duncan. 'And on with the show.'
'On with the show,' sighed Quadel.
* * * * *
Layelliel the Seraphim was a busy woman. Commited housewife, committed businesswoman, committed angel of God's good glory, living the life in Zaphora, the heart of eternity, in a penthouse apartment suite with her husband in one of the finest tower blocks with views that Zaphona city had to offer. She was an amazing success, but so she should be. She had been at it forever. In the early days she had mostly seen to her education. For the glory she wanted in life, she knew she would have to be educated, and originally there were many years with her long and lost twin, Quadel, were she asked him to quiz her constantly for this and that exam and, as the aeons passed, and the worlds of life passed, she always seemed to be about just that – ongoing learning. Ongoing commitment to knowledge. And in this eternal world they were now finally part of, it was all paying off. She was brilliant, she knew it, and had amazing success, amazing glory. Everything had worked out perfectly for Layelliel the Seraphim. Everything.
'Sweetie, toast,' said Hardonyx, Layelliel's Cherubim offspring husband.
'Got it,' she responded, and grabbed the toast and buttered it, while still chatting on her mobile. 'Remember, 3 blue copies, and one in royal red. For big bossman. He always likes to be treated extra special.'
Layelliel was in her world, and as Hardonyx finished his toast in a rush, he disappeared out the door, into the hall, and barely noticed the strange guy wandering around on their apartment level walkways.
Layelliel sat down, she still had a few minutes, and sipped on her coffee, looking at the finance news on the TV.
And then there was a knock on the door.
She continued to look at the TV, sipped on her coffee, and went to the door, not bothering to look, and opened it.
She was staring at the TV, and said 'Yes, can I help you.'
'Uh, hi Lay. Long time no see.'
Finally she turned, and looked. It was Quadel.
'For fuck's sake,' she swore out loud.
'Did you miss me?' he grinned.
* * * * *
'12 million fucking years, Quadel. It has been 12 million fucking years. Why even bother any more?'
Quadel took out a pack of ciggies, offered one to his twin, who declined, and lit up. 'Homesick, I guess. Hows Hard On? I saw him just before I came in.'
'His name is Hardony, asshole. And he is loyal. Unlike some. Some men, and their supposed proclamation of eternal homosexuality.'
'Got over that a long time ago, babe. It was a rush for a while, but not really me.'
'That Doug Pinnick led you astray. I bet you still listen to King's X.'
'Can't live without em,' smiled Quadel.
'Jesus,' she swore.
He smoked his cigarette, and looked around the apartment block. 'You seem to be doing well? How are the kids?'
'I and Hardonyx have not had children for a very long time now. We are over family bliss times. We are servants of God, working in our business world in Zaphona, and we are happy. We pay the tax dollars which keeps everything running smoothly.'
'Still a hero, I see,' said Quadel. 'Always the self-justification scene with Layelliel.'
'At least I care,' she retorted. 'It's the quickest way to the bucks with you, and not much else. Ethics? Hardly.'
'I follow Torah,' he said softly but confidently.
'I'll bet,' she replied, and looked at him. 'Anyway, what the hell do you want? Why now? After all this time?'
'I missed my sweetheart,' responded Quadel.
'I was NEVER your sweetheart,' said Layelliel.
'Well, maybe not,' he replied. 'But I missed you anyway.'
She looked at him for a moment, considering that statement. 'You did?'
'And I had business here.'
'Bastard,' she quickly replied.
'Just kidding,' he said. 'No, it was you, ok. I came to see you. My heart said it was time.'
'Umm,' she replied, and looked at him. 'You are Quadel, MY twin aren't you? Not someone in disguise?'
'It's me. And will you go out to dinner with me tonight? Bring Hard On if you must.'
'His name is Hardonyx. And I'll think over the invitation.'
Quadel stood, walked to the door, and turned to her. 'You do that. But, babe. I'm back in town, and I aint going anywhere any time soon. You can count on that.' And then he was through the door, and gone.
Layelliel sank to her seat, and screeched 'For fuck's sake.' But there was a little smile, just the faintest, and she cocked her head, and smiled at Zaphon throneroom, and said 'Thanks.'
And in the throneroom of Zaphon there was the briefest flutter of purple flames above the throne, before the steady blue continued its eternal duty.
Brunch with the Power Women of Zaphona City
Kimborel. 52nd female of the Seraphim of Eternity. Korean lady, twin to Mishael, the Iraqi bastard, as she liked to call him. Mishael was Prince of Baghdad in Terraphora, were he remained, and ran his Islamic movement, reporting regularly to Angela of Paradise on all the machinations of the Realm of Eternity. He was trite to Kimborel. The most predictable of Muslim extremists, although he never advocated the death penalty or terrorism of any kind, yet he was pathetically fundamentalist on the Quran, believed women should wear black veils covering their faces, with the exception his glorious Queen Angela, Queen of All Angels and true Queen of Heaven, and disdained his twin Kimborel, despite his attraction to her, as the most reprobate of feminist bitches that the western world had even insulted humanity with. He never remembered his old self, said Kimborel. From before Terra, before Earth, back in the old days of the Realm of Eternity. It had been a gentler Mishael, who had only gotten involved with the Islamic religion much later on in the Realm, and had mostly been a kind and sensitive guy. And that was the guy she had fallen in love with once. Sure, he was her twin, despite not being what was now considered the same general 'race' as the guy. But what did that matter? Many of the twin's were not the same race as each other. Yomiel the Seraphim was Jewish, Melaniel was black. Quadel was a caucausion Pole, his twin Layelliel was an African American. And there were others. It was not an uncommon thing. But, in many ways, it really was now the difference of race which separated Kimborel from her twin, or so she believed, as Iraqi's were almost inevitable muslim, and she was anything but that. Hated Islam, with a passion really. The complete opposite of her progressive, forward thinking world, were feminism was taken for granted. As simple as that.
'So the bastard rocks up and asks me out for dinner,' said Layelliel. 'Can you fucking believe it?'
Cindradel, one of the 3 power women of Zaphona city, as the group had been dubbed by the press a long time ago, shook her head. 'Just like dickhead,' she said. 'But he goes off and gets wasted on drugs. Not a visit for an eternity, then borrows cash and gets high.'
'Oh, is he getting better?' asked Layelliel to Cindradel.
'He's improving,' responded Cindradel, and sighed. She turned and looked at the third of the power woman, Kimborel, who had remained silent, lost in thought.
'What's up, honey bee?' asked Cindradel.
Kimborel looked up. 'Oh, nothing,' she replied, and started eating her seafood salad again.
'Something's on the girl's mind,' said Layelliel.
'Obviously,' replied Cindradel.
'I was just thinking on my own twin,' said Kimborel softly.
'Lord asshole,' said Layelliel.
'Yes, him,' said Kimborel.
'Your better off without him honey bee,' said Cindradel. 'Take my word for it. Allah's army are the worst of the worst.'
'Obviously,' replied Kimborel, and continued eating her salad.
But as the two others continued their bitchy conversaton, Kimborel was lost in thoughts of her twin. What was he doing now? What had changed in him? Did he think about her? Did he still love her?
And so their famous brunch breaks continued, but they were soon back at their respective offices, going about their work duties, but all that afternoon Kimborel couldn't get thoughts of Mishael out of her head. She had to see him, she finally concluded. She had to say hello. And, despite knowing what she might get into, she had to see if Mishael, Seraphim of Eternity, still loved his twin. One way or another she had to know. One way or another.
Meludiel and Azrael
'You know, you are a Scottish bastard, aren't you Billy Connolly?'
'Why Rebecca Smallbone. How good of you to notice,' replied Billy.
Meludiel and Azrael were on a boat, headed for 'Lighthouse Haven Central', as it had been dubbed by Daniel the Seraphim when he had finished building it. It was a lighthouse, out in a sea of Eternya along 87 Degrees, were Daniel was popular, and Daniel had built the lighthouse himself over 2 centuries of hard work, and it was in fact the first lighthouse he had totally built by himself. He said he'd do another one – eventually – but not for a bleeding long time. It had been inspected by a counel of Eternyn on permanent building approval, and passed, and 70 hours of solid Eternya prayers had been prayed for it by various figures, and it was now to last forever.
'The Razor's Edge little boat, a 70 footer, trudged on through the wind and rain and thunder and lightning and darkness, and Meludiel stared as Billy guided the ship through the darkness, still again refusing to send out the anchor and see off the storm through patience.
'I can fookin handle it,' was Billy's reply. Azrael was such a pride-filled stubborn bastard when it all came down to it.
'Cosadriel would have humility. And put down the anchor,' said the concerned Meludiel.
'Cosadriel is a granmothers potty boy,' said Azrael. 'A real man plows on unperturbed.'
Lightning struck the ship then, and Azrael lost his thinking momentarily, rushed to get the fire extinguisher to put out the flame which was burning in the cabin from were the lightning had struck, and suddenly the wheel of the ship started turning furiously, the boat got off angle with the waves, and suddenly they were plummeted by waves, the ship overturned, and the last thing that Meludiel remembered was Azrael managing to pull the instantly inflatable emergency floaties in her raincoat, before she got washed under, blacked out, and that was that.
It was morning, and it was sunny, and it was hot. And suddenly she woke. Where was she? She gingerly sat up, and looked, and she was on a beach, and there was a lighthouse just down a little. Just then a handsome man, chest showing to the world, walked down the beach towards her and smiled. 'Morning sleepy head,' he said. 'I left you to sleep it off.'
'Ah, good,' she replied.
'The boat's a total wreck, but there's radio devices in the lighthouse. I'll call for help later. We may as well still enjoy our holiday.'
'Yeh, good,' said Meludiel, and sat up, but put her hand to her head. There was a throbbing.
'Did you hit your head?' asked the man.
'I guess,' she responded. 'Um. I don't want to offend you, but who are you?'
Azrael looked at her. 'Azrael,' he replied. 'Do you know who you are sweetie?'
She looked at him. 'Of course. I'm......I'm........'
'Fuck,' she said, after realizing she didn't know who she was.
'Jesus Christ!' swore Azrael. 'Bloody amnesia.'
They stayed for a number of weeks, as Azrael, who told her she was the Seraphim Angel Meludiel of the Realm of Eternity, needed a long break from his job as innkeeper, and she had agreed to party with him for a while. He was a handsome guy, and he informed her that she was currently a single lady, in between the usual crop of boyfriends.
And then one night, around the fire, she fancied her handsome host. And she came and sat next to him, as they watched the burning logs of wood, and she touched his private place, and he turned to her.
'Are you fooking sure, Meludiel? We've never done this before?'
But she nodded, and kissed him, and they were passionate in the sand for a good 20 minutes.
Gradually, she started remembering little things, and when a year had passed, they ended their holiday, and when Ambriel picked her up at an airport, she looked at him a little quizzically at first, but sort of remembered who he was. It was slowly coming back.
And then, about a decade later, her memories one summer morning, came in strong, and she knew just who she was and exactly what she was about.
And it was at tea the following morning, with Elenniel, that she suddenly swore out loud, and Elenniel was shocked.
'For fuck's sake! I slept with Azrael.'
Elenniel's delicate smile remained all that afternoon.
Meludiel was not in a good mood for ages.
Sharakondra and Ambriel
'Bitch. Look, just go fuck off, ok. Just fuck off,' swore Semyaza, refusing to move from his bar in England in Terraphora, for he was drinking beer with his mates, and really did not give a fuck if Sharakondra wanted to go shopping and for him to get over his current alcohol binge.
So she fucked off. She fucked off.
When she landed, back in Zaphora, she walked up to Danielphon and looked at it. 'Bastard is hopefully home,' she said to herself. Bastard was Daniel the Cherubim, who was staying at Danielphon as of late with Daniel the Seraphim's permission.
She knocked on the door. The jewish prophet didn't answer. It was a Seraphim instead, perhaps the most popular of them.
'Uh, oh. Ambriel,' said the beautiful looking Sharkondra, because she was perfection in a bikini, with her long flowing legs and beautiful face and blonde hair, Ambriel had always thought to himself. Somehow, the most beautiful of the Cherubim females was the oldest of them. That was how it had always been.
'Uh,' said Ambriel nervously. 'Hi sis,' he said formally. She stood there awkwardly.
'Well, can I come in?' she said at last.
He moved over and she walked past him.
He found her in the front room, currently now a living room.
'Bastard is a drunkard,' she swore.
'Semyaza?' queried Ambriel tentatively.
'Who else?' she replied. 'Four years living in England, and he gets wasted just about every fucking day. I've had enough. He told me to fuck off – so fuck him. I did.'
Ambriel sat down, and picked up one of Daniel's ancient rubik's cubes which was sitting on the cabinet beside the couch. 'Semyaza is a touch character,' said Ambriel. 'Very difficult at times, but he has his charms.'
'He's a bastard at times,' responded Sharakondra. 'God knows I've loved him forever, and put up with him forever, but a girl has limits you know.' She stared right at him. 'You know?'
'Sure,' he replied, and put down the cube. 'Look, if you need a place to lay low for a while. I guess I can put you up. Justine is here with me at the moment, but we have a spare room.'
'Oh. I was really after Daniel. Cherubim Daniel. I heard he was here, but you'll do. I can catch up with my favourite Seraphim.'
'That's kind of you,' said Ambriel.
'Oh, you have always been my favourite. Gabriel, now he's ok as well. But your to die for,' she said, and winked at him.
'So, do you mind if I take a shower?' she asked.
'Go ahead. I'm sure you can find everything.'
'I've been here before,' she replied.
'Cool,' said Ambriel, and looked at her nervously for a while.
'Right,' she finally said. 'Well, ok. I'll get a shower then.'
And she excused herself, and Ambriel watched after her, before sitting back down on the couch.
Later, Justine Atkinson got home from her shopping, and looked right at her beloved. 'Ok. We've got a housemate for a while. I notice she's gorgeous, but that's nothing, right? Just coincidence, right?'
'She came looking for Daniel the Cherubim,' said Ambriel defensively.
Justine stared at him.
'For fuck's sake,' said Ambriel. 'I give up,' and stormed off.
But they had a civil enough dinner together, the three of them, and as Sharakondra settled in for the time being at Danielphon, under Ambriel's cautious eye, interesting times loomed for the eternal home of Daniel the Seraphim, so it seemed.
Quite interesting times indeed.
Queriel and Jembryel
'Filthy, stinkin, Hydran,' said the kid to his plastic dinosaur, and had he-man belt the dinosaur for the next 10 minutes. Queriel watched on amused, but Jembryel was far from impressed.
She turned to her twin and husband. 'You know,' said Julessa Jembray, 59th Seraphim female of the Realm of Eternity, the Seraphim Jembryel herself. 'I am far from impressed with this endless war with Hydra. For heaven's sake, Queriel. The odds of young Jarrodyne here ever meeting a Hydran, in the Realm of Eternity, are nil. Nil, buddy. Nil.'
'Hydra is his mortal enemy, and I would have him know that to the very root of his being,' responded the Seraphim Angel Queriel, 59th male Seraphim of the Realm of Eternity, also known by his human name as Roge Jembray. 'Besides. It's not nil. Its about 1 in a Googolplexian, but definitely not nil.'
'Oh, for fuck's sake,' swore Jembryel for the first time in quite a while. The old Nixian/Hydran war had gone on forever. When would he get the hell over it? They didn't even live on Nix any longer, and there was one. Again, a tiny little moon of Pluto, further out in the New Terran system in this 'Spiritual Universe' as it was often called, as opposed to the 'Physical Universe' of Earth itself.
'Your nothing but a radical,' said Jembryel.
'And your faithless to your home planet,' replied Queriel.
'Planet? Heh. That's a good one. Tiny little despot of a moon, out in the far reaches of Stellar One Solar System, which nobody on Earth EVER gave a care about anyway. Give me a break, buddy. We lived on nowheresville.'
'Well it was important to me,' responded Roge, and in a huff marched off to his den, not to be seen again for quite a while.
Julessa came in later, and found, sitting quietly in his armchair, looking at an old 'program' from one of his political glory days on Physical Nix when he had risen to power for a while.
'Do you miss home?' she asked him. 'And, yes, its still home to me. Deep down. It always will be. I'm a Nix girl,' she said, and saluted him. 'And Hydra can go to hell.'
He smiled at that, and looked down at his booklet. 'Oh, I miss her I guess. But we are Terraphorans of Eternity, and always have been sis. It's where we fit in life.'
'Well. We change then. Apply for citizenship, or, to be blunt, residency, as I know we are still technically citizens.'
'What? Live in Nix? You are kidding aren't you?'
'We have the cash to afford a place. Besides, grand-dad lives there. He can put us up.'
'For heaven's sake,' said Queriel, thinking it over. 'Do you know the expense of buying a place on Nix? It's Stellar One system for crying out loud, sis. Sure, we live in Terraphora, which is enormously expensive, but Stellar One?'
'I have savings,' she replied.
He looked at her, mildly stunned. 'I'm sure you do. I think I could afford it myself, if I had to. But that's not the point anyway. I mean, why? Seriously, sis. Why?'
'Because you never shut the heck up about the damn place,' she responded. 'And I was only trying to be sensitive.'
He opened his mouth to speak, but shut it. And then he sat there, staring at her, and looked down at his pamphlet. 'Live on Nix again?' he finally said to himself. 'I couldn't do that in a million years.'
14 months later, Spacehawk Killer VII touched down on the luna body Nix, which orbited the planet Pluto in the Stellar One solar system of New Terra. Deboarding were a host of people who had travelled the distance from New Terra, amongst them 3 particular personages from the Realm of Eternity. They'd applied for residency, and with their citizenship the only question was could they afford to buy a place or did they have somewhere to live. They did. They were approved.
'Home,' said Queriel. 'Can you breathe in that Nix air? Can you? It's like nowhere else in the universe.'
Seraphim Jembryel looked around. It did smell familiar. It looked familiar. In a weird way, she was exactly just that. Home. She was an angel of eternity, one of the treasured children of God, but her humanity had won that fight for the time being, and in Nix she belonged, and in Nix she would have her being. And as they wandered through the space port, looking for a telephone to ring her grand-dad, she steadied herself for her new beginning, her new life, and whatever strange new adventures awaited for the destiny of Jembryel the Seraphim, angel of God of the Realm of Eternity.
Roshael and Zantrameriel
'Roshael,' said Kimborel. 'Do you even know who your twin is?'
Roshael, still looking at the statue of the buddha in the 'Grotto of Heaven' in the upper Himalayas of Terraphora, turned to look at Kimborel.
'Um,' he said softly, and then looked straight ahead into the air, thinking. And he thought, and thought a while, and thought some time more. Eventually he found Kimborel seated in the grotto garden, on a stone bench, and sat down next to her.
'No,' he said softly. 'I've forgotten. We knew each other in the beginning. The beginning of the Realm. But she's another race, and I have never mixed with her ever since. She's a Zulu African lady, I do know that. And I think her name starts with a Z, but that is all I recall.'
Kimborel nodded softly. She looked around at the beautiful garden, and carefully drew breath, because the air was quite thin were they were, so high up, and she turned to her Seraphim brother. 'Her name is Zantrameriel. And she contacted me recently, for the first time since the Realm days also. She actually lives on New Terra, in Stellar One, funnily enough. She has been there since we were reborn for the last time, since the advent of Eternya, and has never left. She had been married all this time, but her husband finally died an eternity death. He chose to let get. Said he'd had enough.'
An eternity death was what killed you in the life of the creations of God What killed you forever. And it was always your own choice, because part of you refused to reconcile with some teaching of God's. So you chose to die, and let it go, and the death was eternal, for the Lord would let them rest in peace.
'Oh,' said Roshael in response.
'She's coming home now. To stay. To stay permanently. She asked if I would visit you. Said she trusted me from memory, and that I would be a good choice to approach you. She wants to meet you again.'
'Ok,' said Roshael.
After a moment Kimborel looked at him. He was softly crying. She didn't interrupt again that afternoon.
* * * * *
'I am Zuala Kalfrese,' said the lady. 'But you know me as Seraphim Zantrameriel.'
Roshael bowed to her. 'A dear pleasure to meet you,' said the prince of Afghanistan.
'Your a Thai tennis champion I have been told,' she said.
'Mother was Thai. I have mixed blood and looks somewhat,' responded Roshael. 'I have been the Thai number one player for the Realm of Eternity many times now. I live in Terraphora, though, and act as Prince for Afghanistan very often, but they don't call on me much these days. I live up in the Himalayas. A quiet life.'
'Right,' nodded Zantrameriel. 'Do you have a wife? Family?'
'Alas, I am a single man. Nearly always have been. Buddhism is my heart, and my faith. The chants keep me going. I find the peace where I live – serene.'
Zantrameriel nodded softly. 'Ok,' she said. And sat there in the airport lounge for a while quietly, Kimborel sipping on a tea, watching from the bench at the side of the cafe, enough distance that she didn't hear them, but she watched unobtrusively.
Zantrameriel turned and looked at her twin. 'Will you take me in? Care for me? Look after me? I have been through a loss, recently. An eternal loss. My soul needs to be restored. I have occasionally been told the twin actually serves on that function in one of its primary roles.'
Roshael looked at her and smiled. 'I would be honoured,' he said, and took her hand for a moment, squeezing it. She looked into his eyes. She had made a good choice.
'It's good to have you back,' Zantrameriel.
'Yes,' replied Zantrameriel to Kimborel's statement, as the two of them navigated themselves through the city.
'So, a few months with me. To settle in,' said Kimborel. 'Back home. And then off to Terraphora. And the arms of Roshael.'
Zantrameriel cocked her head on the statement 'the arms of Roshael', but said nothing. And as they drove along, and she looked at the city as it passed by, she thought to herself, perhaps that's just what it is. The arms of Roshael.
Mishael and Kimborel
Mishael surveyed the countryside. They were out there. The Anglo bastards. Fuck, he hated pommies. Bastards the lot of them.
The man in white looked at Mishael. 'So, another year. Are you ready for the action, sir?'
'Bring it?' said Mishael, and raised his fist in pride.
Just then, the Anglo's appeared. Coming out to bat, Sariel the Seraphim, partnered with Gloryel the Serpahim, his twin. The Terraphoran test cricket series between Iraq and England. Hell itself. Made the Ashes look like a walk in the park.
'It is sir scumbag,' said Sariel, as he approached the crease. 'Are you sure your kindergarten teacher approves of you playing with the big boys?'
'Bite me, sir dickweed,' responded Mishael. Dickweed was a local Iraqi name for Marijuana.
'I would,' responded Sariel. 'But there's just not much meat to get my mouth into.'
Gloryel smiled. 'Forgive him, Mishy. You know he is a tad arrogant on the cricket pitch.'
'Charmed,' replied Mishael. But he was used to it from the English. Very used to it. It was a tradition, which made the world famous sledging between the Aussies and Pommies look lukewarm. Hell itself, as the papers often used the word to describe this ongoing grudge match. Hell itself.
At the lunch break, England 2 for 79, a reasonable start, Mishael came and sat out on the front seats next to the oval, were the next at bat often sat. He wanted to get a feel for the mood of the crowd, and sense what they wanted from him – he was intuitive in this sense. And then, a faint voice said 'Hello Mishael' and he turned. It was his twin. Kimborel.
'So. The 52nd Seraphim female of Eternity has come to see her twin,' he said grinning.
She looked at him for a moment, a little shocked. In fact, quite shocked. Something had changed in him. DEFINITELY changed.
'You ARE Mishael, aren't you?' she said.
'What of it?' he asked, again the warm smile.
'Mishael the Muslim?' she asked him.
Mishael sighed. 'Iraq............is not what it used to be Kimborel. We are, how can I say it? More like you guys now. We've softened. It happens, you know. We got over it. For a large part.'
'Islam got over it? Hardly. We see the news all the time. This and that Imam and movement on this or that holy Jihad. You guys haven't changed.'
'We take Holy War seriously, yes. But not the way it was once thought. We are happy with your world to have its own ways and religious lifestyle? Why do we need every soul a muslim? Can not Allah have souls which are not of Islam if he so chooses? Did Jesus, in the end, need the whole world in his holy Catholic Church? No, he did not. We are the people of the book, but we are happy with those of the other monotheisms to be of their book also. And I will have you know, our own Holy War's are indeed holy. We are showing we are a religion of peace, now, and many western commentators have noted that.'
'Humm,' she said. And looked at him.
'Why the visit?' he asked her.
'Do you love me?' she asked him.
Mishael let out a large, happy, smile. The one she knew all those years ago. 'Kimborel. You are an idiot.'
And Kimborel smiled, and came and gave her man a hug.
'So. You think you are clever?' asked Seth.
'Resolutions. Getting them,' said Adah, looking down at the golf ball on the pitch and putt golf course they were at.
'Then you must be Wisdom supreme,' he said grinning at her. 'Sophia herself.'
'Just a humble servant of God. Who likes my cunning plots and cunning machinations,' replied Adah.
'Then this humble servant shall feed you the finest meal he can make,' replied Seth. 'A five course meal to die for.'
'I'm full,' she replied. 'Had 3 cornettos already this afternoon. And they were yummy.'
'Then tomorrow,' he said, and stood aside as she belted her ball. It landed about a yard from the hole, and rolled in. An eagle.
'The luck of a goddess,' said Seth.
'No. Fate,' said Adah, and started laughing her head off.
'Fate indeed,' replied Seth, and bowed to his sister of wisdom, who was all grins and smiles all afternoon. Very much all afternoon.
'Daniel. Nah, he's a nerd,' said Satan, smoking a ciggie.
Lucifer glared at his saruvim Lord. 'You don't sense he will be our ultimate challenger on glory?'
'The kids – DO NOT GIVE A FUCK ABOUT RELIGIOUS WEIRDOS. THEY LIKE FUCKING COOL, DICKHEAD!'
'Yes. Lord Fucking Cool,' responded Lucifer.
Lucy Potter looked up from the bong she was smoking. 'You know, Satan. The corruption you have brought on me as of late, really is, kind of addictive. I'm in the mood for being a bloody witch again, you know. Heh heh heh,' she grinned.
Harry Potter looked up from the bong he was smoking. 'The wild magic's a rush, dude. Far cooler than that religion thing going on now.'
'Far cooler,' said Satan.
* * * * *
'It's the wild magic. Of the Seraphim,' said Michael, as he glided through eternity above Zaphon tower. 'And it's alive!'
Raphael, gliding next to him, like an ANGEL glides, smiled. 'It's been a long time, Michael. Since I've felt this – ALIVE!'
'It's the fruit of our prayer team,' said Michael. '7 of us. Who made a pact.'
'And who are these 7?' asked Raphael.
'Daniel. The Seraphim. He's on the list next to me. He suggested it, I started praying, and our prayer team formed. We teach Torah now – with passion – but we are coming up to a new beginning for the Realm of Eternity and the Universe itself. We'll finally start showing them what the Children of Destiny are all about. GLORY!'
'You know. This is the best thing that has ever happened to me,' said Raphael. 'The best thing.'
'The best is yet to come,' said Michael, looking out over the glorious beauty of Zaphona city, the shining Babylon of GOD'S glory. 'The best is yet to come.'
'Amen,' said Raphael, and glided, as he was wont to do, yesterday, and today, forever, unabated, in glory.'
* * * * *
Daniel the Seraphim sat in Danielphon keep, opposite Sharakondra. 'What's up Shara?' he asked her. She continued talking on her mobile phone, glanced at him, but ignored him for the most part.
'Yeh, well fuck you too,' said Daniel under his breath, and stood and fucked off to the kitchen to get a can of Coke.
'Hey buddy,' said Ambriel. 'How's it hanging?'
Daniel looked at him, retrieved his can of cold Coke, and said 'The same old shit.'
'What, bored? Daniel the Arch Regent of Eternity has finally ran out of steam? I'm going well, buddy. Looks like we need to put you out to pasture.'
'Bite me, love boy,' responded Daniel, and sipped on his Coke. 'Want to go out tonight? Bring Justine. I'll see if Sharakondra is interested.'
'Ok, buddy,' said Ambriel, and continued hooking into his chinese.
Daniel went back to the front room, and Sharakondra had finished her conversation and was reading a magazine.
'Hey. Want to come out tonight?' he asked her.
She looked up at him, shook her head, and returned her focus to her magazine.
He thought about asking her again, but a new spirit entered his head, and he tried another angle. 'I have a motorbike out the back. And a license. I'll take you dancing first, and you can ride on the back of the bike with me.'
She looked up at him and smiled. 'Sure. That sounds much better. I know this awesome place in town.'
'Cool,' said Daniel a little nervously. She was really quite hot, Sharakondra. Always had been. He went back to the kitchen were Ambriel was at the table now, doing a crossword in the day's paper.
'She's up for it. Said I'll take my motorbike and we'll go dancing first.'
'Ariel has a motorbike in there also, doesn't she?' asked Ambriel.
'That she does,' replied Daniel.
'Then we get beer, fuck off to that private reserve at the south of Golden Lake, bring beer, and get wasted instead. And crack on to our chicks.'
Daniel looked, again, quite nervously at Ambriel. 'I....I couldn't crack on to Sharakondra. She doesn't even like me.'
'Wuss,' said Ambriel softly.
Daniel looked at Ambriel, and his pride rose up. 'Fine then. Have it your way.'
When they hit the reserve, Sharakondra asked if they were still going dancing.
'Think we'll chill here instead,' said Daniel, and carefully laid down next to her on the rug. But she shifted away from him a bit. Ambriel and Justine were now making out, and Daniel looked at them briefly.
Suddenly – he turned on his side, grabbed Sharakondra by the head, and shoved his tongue down her throat. And she didn't even resist.
When he finally pulled away, she looked at him and grinned. 'About time Danny boy.'
* * * * *
Callodyn looked at the small prayer room. It was the Pearce Community centre in Canberra in Australia at the north pole in Eternya. He had purchased the Community Centre at an exorbitant price a few centuries ago, when Daniel had commisioned him to head the Cherubim 'GLORY' prayer team. The Seraphim had been at a certain prayer pattern for a long time, but Daniel the Seraphim had requested Callodyn now start of the Cherubim response and, for the first few centuries pray himself, before recruiting Jesus the Cherubim and Michael the Cherubim to the team. 'Jesus Christ' thought Callodyn to himself. Sitting in here praying with him. 7 prayers praying in this small room. 7 Cherubim prayers. Could be interesting one day.
He sat down, and faced the corner of the prayer room, ready to pray. Glory. Cherubim glory. He had memorized, now, the entire list of the Cherubim, all 140,000 of them, and they were the regular parts of his prayers, though he did have others. Sitting there, he was in the second 10,000 again, and it was Marckonyel's time on the prayer list again. A real character.
He leafed through his book 'Assorted Psalms of 7DF' and chose one. And he began praying:
'Lord God. Hear my prayer, I beseech thee, for the blessings of Cherubim Marckonyel. From Psalms of 7DF.' He steadied himself.
'Praise to the God of Creation. Praise to the great Alleluia. Praise to him who is holy. Praise to the Lord Divine. Lord, look down from your heavenly place, and rescue me from darkness, even the darkness of my own soul and wilful choices. Guide me, teach me, correct me, and bless me. Teach me peace, teach me love, and teach me truth. And let the will of God be on my mind, spirit and heart from this time on forevermore. AMEN.'
And then he spoke to God on his brother Marckonyel for a while, talking of his conversations with him, and his thoughts, and he was quiet, and read scripture then silently for the next 20 minutes.
* * * * *
'Why do you two call yourselves Potters? Your Smiths?'
The girl Decadence looked at Lucy and Jonathon. 'And your name is Jonathon.'
'I was Harry Potter once,' said Jonathon Smith in a funny voice. 'I think. In a world long ago, in a time immemorial. And I was a Daniel as well, I think. It's hard to remember. It was all so long ago.'
'I've known you forever, Lucy. But your not Lucy Potter. It's Lucy Smith.'
'Shaddup. I'm a Potter. I'm sure of it,' she said. I remembered recently, but it went from me again I think. I don't know. Maybe it was just a crazy dream state from past incarnations, when I thought I was something more than who I simply am – Lucy Jane Smith. But it doesn't matter Decadence. We like to call ourselves Potters, at the moment. Run with it sweetie.'
'No thanks. Not with all the drug use.'
Lucy felt guilty. She had been enjoying her partying with Satan, but indeed had some convictions. 'What, you getting religious with me? Everyone is getting religious these days. For God's sake, its just fucking religion. Why all the hangups?'
'Aren't you a Karaite Noahide? In Haven Noahide Fellowship.'
'Yeh, that's right,' said Jonathon. 'You are cous.'
Lucy looked at Jonathon and then at Decadence. 'I'm a witch. Get stuffed.'
'Whatever you say,' said Decadence. 'But your Smiths. Not Potters. So get the hell over it.' But even Decadence was unsure, because something about that name rang a bell deep in her heart.
* * * * *
'We are going to take the world head on now,' said Michael, in the lower ground floor main eating hall of Zaphon. 'The world head on, Raphael.'
Raphael, eating through his Langwah nodded. 'Whatever you say, Mikey. He noticed something strange, then. An angel. An angel who had not been at Zaphon for all eternity practically now. Azrael, with a tray, on his own, sitting down by himself.
'It's Az,' said Raphael. 'I'll just go talk to him for a sec. Be right back.'
Raphael came and sat down opposite Azrael, who looked up at him, nodded, but returned to his meal. He was quiet. Something different about him.'
'What's up, Azrael?' asked Raphael. 'You ok brother?'
Azrael bit into his pie, and looked at Raphael while munching away. Eventually he finished, took a sip on his Melit water, and spoke. 'I'm fine. Come home, now. Home for good, possibly.'
But Raphael noticed it immediately. The quietness. The solitariness. A spirit which – God, it had been forever. The Azrael he once knew, at the very beginning, at the very, very beginning.'
'You've been through a lot. Haven't you,' said Raphael, sensing that Azrael was going through a struggle.
'Cosadriel is coming soon. He'll be living in the dorms like me. The twins are coming as well.'
Raphael was curious. 'What? Have you been asked to return or something?'
'Nothing like that. Homesick, I guess.' But Azrael was strangely silent.
'What gives, bro?' asked a concerned Raphael.
Azrael looked straight at him. 'I took your advice. Mix. I've been living with that forever. Lot of mean cunts I've dealt with because of it, excuse the French, and its not been easy. But you gave me that advice. It didn't work that well. I've been popular. Ruled the world with my comedy, and my chain of pubs. Always the social man. But I'm a quiet soul, you know Raphael. Perhaps you didn't know how God made me to be just me. Not after the image of Raphael's wisdom.'
Raphael looked at him. 'Oh,' he said softly. 'Oh.'
'Yep. Oh,' said Azrael.
Raphael nodded. 'Well, it was good to catch up. Seeya.'
And he stood, returned to Michael, and sat down.
'How is he?' asked Michael.
'Fine,' said Raphael. 'Just fine.'
* * * * *
'Frontal Impact, buddy. It's all about Frontal Impact.'
'How I look?' asked Daniel to Ambriel.
'More than that. How you front yourself. How you come across. Women see through a charlatan. After all, they've seen through you forever.'
'Thanks,' responded Daniel sarcastically.
'Don't worry about,' said Ambriel. 'Take the way you dress for example.'
'What the fuck is wrong with the way I dress?' complained Daniel.
'Track pants. 50 trillion years in track pants. Jesus. You NEVER dress up. Track pants, T shirt, skivvy. The complete fashion sense of Daniel the Seraphim. She must be amazed.'
'Who?' asked Daniel.
'Exactly,' replied Ambriel. 'You need to work on your fashion sense. Then there's a problem with your charm.'
'What's wrong with my charm?' complained Daniel again.
'You don't have any,' replied Ambriel. 'Ever thought of smiling at a woman without that confident 'I'll land you in bed' thought at the back of your head. They sense these things. Believe me. Oh, and looking at other women REALLY pisses of them. Really.'
'I should be taking notes,' said Daniel. 'I've been getting it wrong forever. Oh, by the way. How many kids do you have?'
'About 50,' said Ambriel. 'Why?'
'I'll have to let my 35,000 know about that. No charm with women.'
Ambriel looked at Daniel. 'Ok. That figures. But you won't score Sharakondra so easily. She's tougher to crack.'
'Frontal Impact,' replied Daniel again. 'All about the Frontal Impact.'
Ambriel smiled and put his thumbs up. Daniel was finally getting the message.
* * * * *
It was Saruviel. Michael sat down next to him.
'Long time no see in Zaphon bro.'
'Yep,' said Saruviel.
'Last time you were here it was after an exile.'
'Yep,' said Saruviel.
'Finally over it are you?'
'Yep,' said Saruviel.
'Cool,' said Michael.
* * * * *
Lucy Smith put the bong in the cupboard, sat down with her Tanakh, and opened it to page one and began reading. Finishing Genesis 2 hours later, she rose, went to the kitchen, and made herself pancakes putting maple syrup on them with butter. She made 10 of them, and ate all 10, and didn't give a damn about her thighs. She thought on the Scriptures, and sin, and whether the serpent really ever was worth making a fuss about, that old tempter. But wasn't there some contract that had been won, many lifetimes ago? She never remembered. She rang Jonathon, and they chatted, and she reached a conlusion. For the life of Lucy Smith it was time to find a permanent home in life, and settle down once and for all, because she was sick and tired of moving. And, sitting at her PC, there was a link on the side of an online website she was visiting which read 'Trips to Zaphona'. Now that could be interesting. Living in the central disc of Zaphora in Zaphona city. Even living in Zaphon tower itself, if she could ever afford the unbelievable cost of a place. But she was dreaming. She clicked on the link, though, and followed another link to property prices in Zaphora. Interesting, she thought, looking at the prices. Very interesting indeed.
* * * *
Raphael sat with Azrael and Cosadriel, now also returned.
'So. What's the plan?'
'Kaladel runs the voluntary roster system for the realm. The OLD system. Before money,' said Cosadriel. 'We're hooking back into that.'
Raphael nodded. 'Interesting idea. Very old.'
'And we're hanging around Zaphon for now, but I'm returning to my old place. The bungalow has been dormant forever. Dust had built right up,' said Azrael.
'Very interesting,' agreed Raphael.
'Life back to normal,' said Cosadriel. 'And we're going off to Golden Lake this afternoon. Want to come?'
'I may as well,' responded Raphael. 'I may as well.'
* * * * *
Daniel sat next to Sharakondra on the couch, watching TV. Suddenly, again, he latched on to her, and started pashing her. She did it for a while, then pulled away, and started watching TV again.
He thought about it. Impressions. Frontal Impacts.
He went off to his bedroom, and soon returned with his Luke Skywalker T-Shirt on, and a light saber.
'I am Luke Skywalker,' he said, bowing to Sharakondra, and then made a pose with his lightsaber. She giggled. 'Darth Vader is my FATHER,' he said dramatically. She giggled again. 'Don't tell anyone, but I kissed my sister,' he said.
Sharakondra smiled. 'Then come over and kiss me then, idiot.'
He did. Shortly after he was doing more than kissing her. Much more.
* * * * *
Michael sat with Raphael, in Zaphon's cafeteria.
'7 more,' said Raphael. 'Since Saruviel. They are coming home. Don't know why. None have claimed they have been asked. But the Seraphim are coming home.'
'Daniel has been back at Danielphon with Ambriel for a while now, hasn't he?' asked Michael.
'He doesn't normally come home much more, though. Is he staying now?' asked Michael.
'And getting it on with Sharakondra, from what Ambriel tells me. And its funny. He's asked for his old job back. Ambriel. Doing social work in Zaphon. He assumes I am doing that again.'
Michael looked right into the heart of the thirdborn Archangel Seraphim male of the Realm of Eternity. 'Well are you, dear brother? Are you?'
And only time told the answer.
Pentra Angelica Infinitum
'What do you call an angel, unemployed, underutilized, and leftover by God as a passing thought, a mere fancy, nothing held in particularly high esteem?'
Garanel scratched his balls. 'I dunno. What?'
'Pentra Angelica Infinitum?'
'What da fuq?' asked Garanel. 'Oh, shit. Old fucking words. Let me see. Pentra. Hey, that's a number.'
'Genius,' responded the angel Raznadore, firstborn of the Abraphim angels of Infinity.
'Fuck you. Anyway, it's 50. And its the 50th angel of Infinity, your dumb ass,' said Garanel.
Raznadore lifted the mug of beer to his mouth, and drank anyway. He was tired of the stuff in many ways, but what the fuck else was there?
'Try showing up to the actual throneroom if you want a tour of duty,' said Garanel. 'That usually helps. He always has shit for us to do.'
Raznadore considered his brother, and as he sipped on his beer, suddenly it tasted quite good.
'Show up to the throneroom, you say?'
'Yep. Works for me. Every aeon or so, when I get out of bed, and have had enough of the Vds for a while, I fuck off to the library, study Torah for a few years, then front the throne. He says its brilliant to see me, and gives me some minor chores.'
'Mmm,' said Raznadore. 'Sounds intriguing. And this throneroom? Where do I find it?'
Garanel pointed out the window of his Golden City tower, straight at the throneroom a stones throw away. 'There, idiot?'
Raznadore looked. 'That's right. I've often wondered what that building was for.'
* * * * *
'VISIT ZAPHON IN THE REALM OF ETERNITY. TAKE THE LETTER OF INTRODUCTION TO CINDRADEL I HAVE WRITTEN FOR YOU. NOTHING MORE.'
'Kapiche,' said Raznadore.
* * * * *
'Oh,' said Cindradel, amazingly delighted. 'So YOUR the 50th of the angels of Infinity. I had often wondered. How great a pleasure it is to meet you. And thank you for this letter. Do drop around some time, you know. Make yourself known to your cousins.'
'Sure,' said Raznadore, scratching his balls, checking out the cute cherubim angel in the office that everyone noticed. 'Right. It's been a dream. Seeya babe.' And no sooner had he arrived, than he had gone, back home, back to his apartment.
* * * * *
'How did it go?' asked Garanel.
'Amazing. The place is called Zaphon. Head of the Realm of Eternity. Fancy that, huh.'
'The shit you learn,' said Garanel. 'What's next?'
'Oh, fuck. I'm retired now. It will take me an eternity to digest that fucking trip.'
'Good for you, Pentra Angelica fucking Infinitum,' replied Garanel the angel. 'Good for you.'
Justine was confused. She had a letter. A letter from 'The Royal and Regent Lord of Zaphora, Zaphona City and Zaphon Tower, Archangel Michael, Seraphim of Eternity, and true Glory and Wisdom of God. It was confusing. She checked the Danielphon Database and noted, after a search of 'Official Titles of Daniel The Seraphim' this almost seemed to be covered, very nearly so, with one of his Arch Regency titles. There could be legal problems. Heck, there could be legal problems with her opening Danie's mail to start with, but he told her to open anything which seemed important while they were away, so she had. Then she decided to read the actual letter itself.
'Dear Friends. The current overseer of Zaphon, the Saruvim lad that he is, with all wisdom his young years has at his disposal, still lacks the experience to judge on this particular matter which is at hand in the Realm of Eternity at this precise time and moment. 'Disapora Redux' as it has come to be known, the ongoing phenomenon of the return of many and various of the Seraphim and Cherubim of Eternity to Zaphora and even Zaphon for permanent residence. This is well within their rights, so an issue has become quite important to be discussed. Authority, rulership and, putting it bluntly – who runs the bloody show. 140 winging and complaining Seraphim can be much to handle at the best of times. Put them all together and only Dysfunctional realities can possibly occur. So, we are to have, yet again, one of the famous 'Counsel's' of the Seraphim for the purpose of discussing much. And that is not set in time, but soon, when it becomes quite apparent the full number of returnees we will be having to deal with. You have been dutifully informed my dear friend. God's peace to you.'
'Well,'thought Justine to herself. Interesting times indeed.
* * * * *
Daniel was chatting with Ambriel at Danielphon.
'Semyaza is pretty tough, Dan. I mean, sure, he knows Shara fools around a bit, but marriage? He is the jealous type.'
'I'm good for her,' responded Daniel, sipping on his 3rd can of Coke that arvo. 'I bring her back to reality.'
Ambriel nodded, but turned to his bro. 'And what reality is that?' asked the curious Seraphim.
Daniel patted his belly. '110 kilos. A sensible weight. A little bit of belly fat, but not too much. And I life weights one day per month. I have reasonable upper body strength. I'm no Samson, but I'm very well balanced in reality.'
Ambriel considered that and looked at his own figure – trim, taut and terrific. Daniel, though, a bit of belly fat, but Ambriel knew the girls fancied him quite a bit anyway. And even impossible to land Sharakondra liked him now.
'What's your secret then?' asked Ambriel.
'Enjoyment. Happiness. I splurge a bit on junk food occasionally, but not too much. But from mid-december to Christmas I eat whatever I like. Holiday food. But I usually do a 5 K walk in January and then just my one day a month workout. The thing is, I enjoy doing it. It makes me feel good that I'm taking proper care of myself, but I don't overdo it. And I don't get too proud of myself with a Herculean figure because of it. It means I'm well adjusted, regular and normal. Not too fat, not too thin, just right.'
Ambriel again looked at his own figure.
'I wouldn't sweat that,' said Daniel. 'Your naturally healthy with that good physique. You take care of yourself carefully, but that's your nature. Your normal too,' said Daniel.
'Thanks,' said Ambriel.
They watched the A Team for a while.
'But how does that make you good for Sharakondra?' asked Ambriel.
'Well, she's a calorie counter,' said Daniel.
Ambriel smirked. Meludiel was known to do that also.
'And your inspired knowledge of physiology will guide her on the true path, I take it?' asked Ambriel.
'Kapiche,' responded Daniel the Seraphim.
'Right,' said Ambriel. But softly under his breath, 'It's your funeral mate.'
Daniel, bravely, did not respond.
* * * * *
'You know,' began Cosadriel, sipping on a fine Icelandic beer in 'Az's Place', a new bar, opened in down town Zaphona city, not far from Golden Lake. 'One thing Scottish bastards do well, is run pubs. They may have all the charisma of cat's testicles just before neutering, but they do run fine pubs.'
Azrael's face grimaced at the thought of a helpless pussy's face just before the cut. Suddenly he had a retort. 'And one thing Icelanders can do well is buy cheap foreign made Icelandic beer, watered down, with a touch of soda water so that they never know the difference,' responded Azrael.
Cosadriel slammed his fist down on the bar. 'And damn fine soda water it is too.'
A blonde walked in the bar. Azrael nodded at her.
'Here's a chance,' said Cosadriel.
'I think the soda water has gone to his head,' said Azrael to his female bartender compatriot.
Cosadriel sidled over to the lady. 'I'm Cosadriel,' he said. 'But you can call me Sporticus.'
Justine Atkinson looked at the Seraphim. 'Ambriel warned me about you. You and Azrael. Said you were both incorrigible.'
'He's the incorrigible one,' yelled Azrael, indicating Cosadriel. 'Me. I'm just a bastard scotsman.'
'Aye aye,' yelled some of the regulars of the pub.
'And what fine damsel has the acquaintance of Ambriel the Seraphim?' asked Cosadriel.
'Justine. Justine Atkinson. Baptist Christian, lukewarm Noahide, member of 'Zaphona Societie's Human League', and worried child of God.'
'It's a great life,' said Cosadriel, stretching out. 'Why so worried sweetheart?'
'Cause she's entertaining you,' yelled Azrael, which brought another cheer from the bar regulars.
'It's confusing, now,' said Justine. 'Daniel has employed me recently as official secretary for Danielphon, and asked me to attempt the fidelity of Cindradel to Zaphon in my own illustrious position. It's not easy, though. Head office of Noahide Books alone send me 'Only Vital Letter's' and I get 50 of them a day. It takes ages sorting out the issues to Daniel's protocols that he left me.'
'What you gonna do?' asked Cosadriel, sipping on his beer.
'And it's not getting any easier. With that new announcement by Michael of Diaspora Redux, I have all sorts of questions run at me all day long on the phone. Will Daniel be resuming official Arch Regency? Will Daniel get to his actual overseermans job again? Will Daniel attend this function, or this board meeting, or when is Danny coming back to the Indoor cricket scene. The question's never bloody end. I didn't realize how damn popular the bloke is. Scuse me. I shouldn't swear.'
'Many a saint has sworn in this bar,' said Azrael, still obviously listening in.
'The fact that he has never met a saint in his life testifies to the authenticity of that statement,' quipped Cosadriel. 'Sweetheart, don't sweat it. My brother Daniel. He's an egomaniac. Likes all the attention. Goes for Seraphim glory all the time as if it is going out of style. Should try a scene, get a name, and stick to it. Don't sweat being Superman. Michael always thinks that's his job. And Saruviel of course. Idiot think's he's firstborn.'
Azrael came over and sat down. 'Yes, he speaks truly for once. He has no ambition of his own, of course. Does a Lazy Town special every aeon just to make sure people are still watching the show and his royalty cheques can keep on coming in. Lives on that, pretty much. But why should we complain anyway. Icelander. Devoid of ambition.'
'Says the scotsman who kisses the arse of the queen of England,' replied Cosadriel.
Justine went quiet for a while, as the two exchanged some quite classic sledges.
'Anyway, Diaspora Redux sounds interesting,' said Cosadriel. Could be opportunities in that, I think.'
'Bah,' said Azrael. 'You have no ambition.'
'I have investments,' said Cosadriel. 'All sorts of well established companies. I don't live on royalties alone you know.'
'No,' said Azrael, taking a sip on his drink. 'I didn't think you really did in the end.'
'My advice, sweetie,' said Azrael, turning to Justine. 'Go with the flow. Don't fight it, and just work hard. Zaphona is increasingly becoming a hub of action and adventure. A lot happens here now. Working for Daniel is not as stupid as it seems. He leads an interesting life. And him and Ambriel are tight as. You probably know that, though.'
'All too well,' replied Justine.
'Keep your head, enjoy yourself and,' he said, looking straight at Cosdariel, 'Don't fall for any cheep Icelandic pick up lines. Believe me, they are cheap indeed.'
Cosadriel lifted his beer and tipped it towards Azrael. 'Cheers,' he said.
Azrael just grinned in response.
* * * * *
'Hey bitch,' said Sharakondra from her mobile as Justine entered the front living room of Danielphon. The front living room had a very luxurious and ancient green cloth and black leather 3 seater sofa, a single recliner sofa, posh bookcases, with an old TV set, a desk which Daniel wrote on from time to time, and a table with magazines on it, and a few pictures here and there. Daniel was currently experimenting. Every aeon he would, would Ariel's approval, change the rooms furnitures of Danielphon, trying to work out which went best with what they were all on about. The current situation, though, Ariel had decided seemed to work best, and the two of them almost had an eternal covenant to now leave things be for good.
'Charming,' said Justine, as she sat down on the recliner, and watched as Sharakondra continued chatting mindlessly away, well, at least mindlessly in Justine's opinion, on boys and clothes and all things which the posh elite, which she had never really been part of, chatted about. Oh, sure, Gemma Watkins was something of that ilk, but Gemma had gradually grown up over the ages, was very well educated now, and a damn fine lawyer as well. This Sharakondra, though. Jesus Christ – if there ever was an example of Alpha Female who thought she ruled the roost, Sharakondra was it.
After a while Shara finished her conversation, seemed to be looking at her messages for a while, and then picked up a magazine from the table, and just sat there, reading, looking perfect.
'Busy day?' asked Justine.
'Humph,' said Shara. 'You know. Same old.'
'I'll bet,' replied Justine. She never really had anything to say to this woman which Daniel liked, and didn't understand Ambriel's fascination either, because she noticed him looking at her. Bitch. She was gorgeous, nothing ever out of place, and the ultimate woman in many ways. She didn't know much. She tried some sarcasm.
'So what's it like being perfect then?'
Sharkondra looked over at her. 'Think that up all by yourself, bappo. Brilliant, aren't you.'
'Bappo?' queried Justine.
'Baptist. Your religion. A simple one, you know. I mean, your not even a Catholic yet. Still in one of the minors.'
'Catholicism misrepresents Christian faith,' said Justine staunchly.
Sharkondra looked at Justine, put down her magazine, and smiled. 'You know, forgive me, but I won't swear at you, but who the effing hell do you think you are kidding? I have known your lord and saviour since he was a wee little one back in the day. I was there when he invented his damn religion. And he has forever maintained that the Catholic Church is his official bride. You guys misrepresent Christian faith if anything, sweetheart.'
'Catholicism is biblically inaccurate,' said Justine in her defence.
'I don't think Jesus gives a shit,' replied Sharakondra. 'If that is as deep as your theology goes, you'll have to think again. Try loyalty for starters. Fidelity. He doesn't look for another bride, you know. Dis the papal doctrine all you like. Jesus doesn't care.'
Justine looked at her, but thought better not to comment. She was vaguely aware that Jesus taught the Catholic Church was his head church, but favoured all who called upon his name. She did believe, though, that Baptist doctrine and lifestyle was far more biblical than any catholic attempt.
'I guess we see things differently,' replied Justine.
'Loyalty is a good thing to your own church. But learn your place, sweetheart,' said Sharakondra and picked up her magazine and was again lost in her own world.
'Humph,' said Justine, stood, and wandered off to the back kitchen.
Ambriel was there.
'How's it going?' he asked her, as he was watching the TV in the kitchen, a kid's cartoon by the looks of it.
'Ambriel. Why does Jesus stick with the Catholic Church with all its biblical errors.'
'For better and for worse,' said Ambriel. 'You know. You don't divorce in a lot of peoples books. Jesus never would. His nature. Live with it, I suppose, Justine. You'd never change his mind on the issue though. But don't worry about it. He likes Baptists a lot now. Visits them every now and again.'
'So he should,' said Justine.
'Hmm. He's coming, you know.'
'Who's coming?' asked Justine.
'Jesus. In a few years. Coming to reside in Zaphon Tower in the dormitories. Then finding a place in the city somewhere. He emailed me.'
'Diaspora Redux!' exclaimed Justine.
'Huh?' asked Ambriel.
'Oh, nothing,' she said. 'Ambriel. Do you think I'm attractive?'
'Your to die for,' said Ambriel, but did not take his eyes off the TV set.
'Wonderful,' said Justine, and left the kitchen, going out the back.
Daniel was there, paying attention to the motorbikes which had been used recently.
'Wassup?' asked Daniel.
'Daniel. Which church is God's church?'
Daniel smiled. 'Why, the Baptist Church of course, Justine. Who else?'
Justine smiled. Finally the voice of wisdom.
'Here, I'll help you clean them,' said Justine. And the two of them spent the rest of the afternoon cleaning, chatting, and agreeing why the Catholics really were the greatest heretics in all of Christendom.
Haven Noahide Fellowship II
'So, Miss Ciccone. I can call you that, can't I? Miss Ciccone?'
Madonna nodded curtly at Cherubim Daniel Daly's question.
'Are you ready, now. To claim membership in Haven Noahide Fellowship. The offer I made many aeons ago remains true and correct. We seek you as the iconoclastic queen of Haven Noahide Fellowship. You will be given due adulation, special places at the fellowship assemblies for you and offspring, and will be officially part of the royal seed of Haven Noahide Fellowship alongside clan Daly, Corr, Spears, Bradley & Bridges. We ARE open to other clan's for seeking and gaining royal status once sufficient service to the fellowship is maintained, and we have several million clans seeking higher status currently in the fellowship.'
Madonna finished signing an autograph for a fan at the fellowship hall they were currently residing, and looked at her daughter's twin. 'You have never really budged, have you. From these Noahide ideals you represent. But I follow the wisdom of the tree of life, and am not sure if Haven represents my heart.'
'Then speak your mind. A queen is not a queen unless she has the voice of the people.'
'You know my liberalities, don't you?' she asked him.
He nodded. 'Most members can tolerate your more liberal views. Don't expect us to change our own choices of behaviours terribly much, but we can accommodate the kind of people you might wish the fellowship to partake of.'
'Will you allow gay marriages? Your stance has eternally been against it.'
'Long ago,' responded Daniel. 'When we were young, I came to positions on those issues, but for the sake of divine conformity, they could not yet be discussed. We will allow civil unions of gay partnerships in our fellowship. We can not allow gay marriages, but your status as a gay partnered person in a civil union will be recognized. I have spoken to elders gradually over a long time, and the spiritual assets we will gain from the clientele you represent is sufficient for us to make those amendments to general policy. We are happy enough to allow those viewpoints to become public policy.'
'If I join?' she queried.
'What do you wish from me?'
'To be our heart. And, as that heart, you are willing to support your fellowship and help her when she is in need. We have vast resources, but we need ever more in this competitive universe to stay a valid viewpoint, especially on mercy. For while we are somewhat authoritarian, we are not against mercy.'
'I'll consider your offer,' she responded.
'Thank you,' responded Daniel. 'And send my greetings to my twin. I have not seen her in aeons.'
She nodded, and got back to signing autographs. Daniel watched her for a while, and left, walking over to the office of the fellowship hall and chatted with the pastor. New changes could be coming, soon, for Haven Noahide Fellowship. New, and perhaps, perhaps challenging changes. But what was life without adventure, he thought to himself, as the pastor started speaking on finances, and he lost himself in the business of Haven Noahide Fellowship.
'So what happened then?' asked Jessica to Gabriel.
'Well, in the official records we have, which are sketchy, as Callodyn and Daniel did a half-assed job with their records, and fudged the early dates of the Chronicles shockingly, things just went on and 7000 SC came and went and it was all just business as usual. But it really wasn't like that. The millennia of Michael and Ambriel was only about 400 years, and Ambriel died, and Callodyn and Daniel took over for the most part, and things got strict again. It was about the year 6000 SC when Ambriel started his proper reign as Messiah of Judaism, which was a judgement of the religion of Judaism more than anything, although Jeremiah teaches that a King from David's line can reign in each generation, so the messiah idea was also possible for more than one candidate over time. Things were very liberal for those 400 years, and gay marriages really were in vogue for a while.'
'Which Callodyn and Daniel didn't object to apparently?' said Jessica.
'They went with the flow from memory. But Ambriel died, and things got very strict again until the end of the first era. The era of 7000 years. And then, over the next 7000, it sort of repeated, and has done ever since. There has always been this age of permissiveness form God. I think we are now going through that, yet again at the moment. Why 7DF have lightened up with allowing Madonna her Civil Unionships.'
'She knows he'll get strict again. She knows. She senses it. Take them, tolerate it while God does, and tighten it up again. But Madsy is a sucker for that Callodyn. She always has been.'
'Andrew was very liberal for a while. He would screw me and screw Bianca and not give a stuff. Then he would get strict again, the hypocrite.'
'Which is the mystery of life,' replied Gabriel Seraphim of Eternity. 'But God has his wisdom, and everyone needs a break at times. After all, nobody's perfect.'
'No,' thought Jessica. 'Nobody's perfect.'
Ambriel's Adventure in the Dralikon
Ambriel and Jan Kolby were lost in the Dralikon, in an old lair which had befuddled Adam and Eve, even lower down.
'That's a B4 droid,' said Rimwalker. 'Say your name.'
'Hi B4. I'm Ambriel,' smiled Ambriel at the droid.
'Ambriel. What kind of dorky name is Ambriel?' replied the droid.
'Charming,' said Ambriel.
They were locked in room Z4VD.
'This map is impossible to work out,' said Jan. 'It's all chaotic.'
'How long will this air last? And I'm hungry,' replied Ambriel.
A voice came on the speakers.
'Greetings, guests. This room is a challenge. I like challenging bastards. Paying them bloody back. Oh, don't sweat it, Jan. I'll let YOU out eventually. But bastard boy has a lesson to learn. HA!' said a vindictive kind of spicy voice.
'She sound's pissed,' said the Rimwalker.
'Tell me about it,' frowned Ambriel.
The room had a coca cola machine, which had the light on.
'Do you have a coin?' asked Ambriel. 'I'm thirsty.'
Rimwalker looked around, and saw some coins scattered on a table nearby.
'These should do,' and he poured them in.
They pushed some buttons, and coca cola cans came out.
'Ooh,' said the voice on the speaker. 'Sure you want to risk it. They might be bloody ancient.'
'Yorkshire accent. Leeds, I think,' said Rimwalker.
'I know,' said Ambriel. He gingerly opened a can and tasted. It was fresh, and they drank coke for a while.
'Figure it out,' said the voice over the speaker phone.
The two of them looked around.
'It has a sign,' said Ambriel. 'It's in russian.'
'What does it say?' asked Jan. 'I think it means fucking exit, in crude russian,' replied Ambriel.
Jan tried the door. It was locked. There was a keypad.
3 days later, still drinking coca cola, Jan cracked the code. He'd tried a few numbers by then.
'The number's under the welcome mat,' said the voice over the income. 'You only had to look.'
Jan checked. He nodded to Ambriel.
'Gotcha bastard,' said the voice again.
They climbed, and 4 hours later they reached the surface.
Melanie B was there, waiting for them, with stun guns.
'I should, you know,' she said. 'Go on, Jan. Get out of here. Leave gayboy to me.'
'Sorry mate,' said Jan, and skidaddled.
'What's it gonna cost me?' asked David.
'Strip,' she said.
'Not quite as big as I remember it,' said Melanie, and gathered up his clothes.
'Seeya,' she grinned, as she took off on her motorbike.
The nearby city was about a mile away. Ambriel got a lot of embarrassed looks.
He was not terribly impressed.
Saruviel the Wrathful Antichrist
'You know, Yesh. Your a pretty pathetic Messiah when it comes down to it,' said Saruviel, sipping on iced tea.
'This is good iced tea, Krystabel,' said Jesus. 'Very cool and sweet. Really nice stuff.'
'It's Saruviel's recipe. He likes cool drinks. Calms him down, he says,' replied Krystabel.
'I mean, dying on a cross. Way to go. Sure a positive message of inspiration.'
'Yep, its lovely ice tea Krissie,' said Jesus.
'Now if I was Messiah, I would do it differently,' said Saruviel.
Jesus looked at him. 'How so?'
'Oh, you know. Dramatic stuff. First, rise to glory, unite mankind, and make sage and world changing political judgements which change the very fabric of life as we know it.'
'Right,' said Yeshua. 'And have fun with 3 sixes while you are at it.'
'Oh, the system has potential.' He poured himself some ice tea.
'But I wouldn't use 3 sixes. Not if it was my choice. 3 sevens sounds better.'
'Alack alas, you are a marked man,' said Jesus.
'Tis true,' said Saruviel.
They sat for a while, drinking Ice tea.
'Do you collect comics?' Saruviel asked Jesus.
'Some. I like Superman.'
'Yes. Superman. He's a good example of the kind of messiah I would be.'
'So you can fly,' said Jesus.
'Naturally,' responded Saruviel.
'And you fight aliens like Doomsday,' said Jesus.
'Someone has to,' replied Saruviel.
'But green rocks are a bit too much for you,' smirked Jesus.
'Yes. A rock is my mortal enemy. Them's the breaks I spose,' responded Saruviel.
They continued drinking.
'Or I could be Batman,' said Saruviel.
'The Dark Knight,' said Jesus.
'All sorts of glory,' said Saruviel.
'Who spends his time worrying about a comedian.'
Saruviel looked at him. 'Yeh. You have always had pretty bad jokes. I guess I would call you a joker of sorts.'
'Right,' said Jesus.
They continued in silence, enjoying their liquid.
'Ok. I'll be the Antichrist then. A wrathful one,' said Saruviel.
'They can make comics about you,' said Jesus. 'The Dread Lord Saruviel.'
'I could have a partner in crime. Yeshua the Boy Blunder.'
'We could rule the world,' said Saruviel.
'Cutting edge comic art, I suppose,' said Jesus.
'Only the best,' replied Saruviel confidently.
'I'm sure we'll outsell Batman,' said Jesus.
'Superman too,' said Saruviel.
'Now your pushing it,' said Jesus.
They continued sipping iced Tea.
'You know, Yesh. Your a pretty pathetic Messiah when it comes down to it,' said Saruviel.
Jesus looked at Saruviel, who was smiling softly.
'Can I have some more Ice Tea?' Jesus asked Krystabel.
'Oh, we're all out,' said Krissie. 'I'll make some more.'
'You'll have to worry about that,' said Saruviel.
'What?' asked Jesus.
'Making sure we have enough ice tea. The dynamic duo need to stay cool, remember.'
'I'm sure,' replied Jesus.
Back in Business
God was back. Back from the dead. Well, actually, back from a strange world, a world more real than his own, and he had been nobody, and then had been somebody, and then he had been sent home.
And now he was back in business again.
* * * * *
'So, meatball. You've retired from the army.'
Azrael looked at Cosadriel. 'I was never in the army.'
'The Scottish National Army. Fighting Taliban fighters in Afghanistan in Terraphora, I heard.'
'Oh, humph,' replied Azrael. 'We had the International Highland Games in Afghanistan for a change.'
'And you fought the Taliban,' replied Cosadriel, and ordered a beer from 'Az's place'.
'Yep. And I doodled a log up Osama bin Laden's anus while I was at it,' replied Azrael.
Cosadriel sipped on his beer. 'Perfectly good place for a log I would imagine. He's always acted like he has had something up his butt.'
'Probably Icelandic humour. It's why he's such a stiff,' grinned Azrael.
'God knows the Scots are not famous for their humour,' responded Cosadriel.
Azrael just grinned.
God walked in.
'A beer,' he grunted. Rihanna followed on shortly, and sat down at the bar.
'One beer coming up for the most high,' responded Azrael, an eyebrow raised.
'So, old fart. Your back,' said Cosadriel.
'Humph,' replied Wolfgang.
'Here to stay?' asked Cosadriel.
'Humph. You call this a beer?' God asked Azrael.
'Would you prefer lemonade?' asked Azrael.
'That sounds good,' said Rihanna. 'I have a headache. All this winging about Osama bin Laden. Good grief.'
Cosadriel looked at Rihanna. 'What's up with Osama?'
'He got a thermometer stuck up his anus, which went further upwards, and he cursed the God of Israel for 7 hours.'
'What brand was the thermometer?' asked Cosadriel.
'How the hell should I know,' replied the pop singer.
'Campbells,' said God gruffly. 'Bloody scottish one.'
Cosadriel looked at Azrael. He did not comment. When God and Rihanna left, Azrael came and sat next to Cosadriel.
'Aye, Campbells. A trustworthy brand that one.'
Cosadriel just smiled.
Marckonyel in the Shit
'This is a pretty big pile of shit,' said Marckonyel. 'So tell me, Wolfric. Why are we collecting shit from earth?'
The theophany looked at his son. 'Cherubim Daniel Daly once offered me his lifetime supply of shit.'
'His actual shit?' queried the angel.
'And his piss.'
'What do you need it for?' asked Marckonyel.
'Eternya doesn't go on forever, you know. They'll reach the end of it one day.'
'And why is that?'
'Because I don't have any more stuff to use which is sanctioned for these parts of creation of the universe. But Daniel's physical wasteage can literally be used for further expansion. I have been going canny with it for a long time now.'
'We live in the spiritual. This is very physical, and I can feel it, life on earth.'
'This waste multiplies into a huge supply of spiritual matter for my heavenly creation. When we have taken the full supply of Daniel's wasteage, creation will be finished.'
'And the rest of the universe out there?'
'Other projects. Later on. Only so much was used at the beginning of it all, which is a contract I have with myself. Daniel's offering extended plans quite a bit.'
'Fascinating,' said Marckonyel, as he shovelled more shit into the bags they had.
'Yeh, I know. It's a dirty job,' said God.
'But someone's got to do it,' responded Marckonyel sarcastically, as he got on with the rest of the days hard labour.
Marckonyel on Melladon
Daniel the Cherubim, Daniel the Jewish Prophet of Israel, opened the door of his Zaphona city flat. It was Marckonyel.
'Haven't seen you for a while,' said Daniel, as Marckonyel brushed past him and sat down on the lounged.
'Yo, Nadiel,' said Markonyel. 'How's it hanging?'
Daniel's twin smiled at Marckonyel. 'Yo yourself, Jack T Chance.'
'Yep. The Green Lantern himself,' replied Marckonyel, whose longsuffering eternya leather coat was the spitting image of the coat worn by Jack T Chance in the Green Lantern comics published by DC Comics.
'Jack's your hero, isn't he,' said Nadiel.
'Naw, he's more like Lobo,' said Daniel.
'I've always thought myself more of a John Constantine,' said Marckonyel, lighting up a cigarette.
'Except that John Constantine has intelligence,' responded Daniel.
Marckonyel grinned. 'Hey, what day is it?'
'Melladon. The first of the month,' replied Nadiel.
'Green Lantern crusades is on. It's a special,' said Marckonyel. A movie length one. Let's watch it.'
'Sure,' said Daniel, and picked up the remote and found the channel they were after. Half an hour later the show began, and they three of them chuckled at the traditional humour Green Lantern Crusades was known for.
'Seen your twin lately?' asked Nadiel later, as they sat at the table eating dinner.
'Not for a while,' replied Marckonyel. 'I'm a busy Green Lantern, don't you know.'
'Yeh, you deal with a lot of shit, I heard,' replied Daniel grinning.
'Not funny,' said Marckonyel.
'You should go see your twin,' said Nadiel. 'She probably misses you.'
'Wolfgang said the same thing. Said it was time to finally settle down. Find a place in Terraphora and get a regular job.'
'Sounds good,' said Daniel. 'But I'm not sure if you are 9 to 5 material.'
'Az's place. Azrael has offered me a weekend gig as a bartender,' said Marckonyel.
'Then take it,' said Nadiel.
'I'm thinking it over,' replied the Cherubim. 'Anyway, can I chill here for a while. Sort myself out a bit. Not used to stability. Settling down. Thought Danny boy could advise me on it.'
'It should be ok,' said Daniel. 'But only for a few years. We like our quiet time together.'
'Should be plenty,' responded Marckonyel.
'And go see your twin,' said Daniel.
'Yeh. The twin,' said Marckonyel, and as he munched down his potato wedges he thought on that very issue.
Marckonyel on Galadon
A few months passed in the life of Marckonyel, 12,025th of the Cherubim males of Eternity, and he woke up one morning, after a heavy night's partying on another Melladon celebration, and a bright and happy Galadon, the second day of the month, greeted him. He was a little hung over, but smoked a ciggie, drowned some coffee after he showered, and sat at the table, unshaven, looking the worse for wear.
Nadiel walked in.
'You look like shit,' she said.
'I feel like it,' replied Marckonyel.
'You smell like shit,' said Daniel, walking in and kissing Nadiel.
Markonyel lifted up his arm and smelt his armpit. 'God. I bloody reek,' he stated honestly.
'You could use some detox,' commented Nadiel.
'Detox? Don't get me started on fucking detox workers. Half my life has been involved with bloody detox workers,' replied Marckonyel, lighting up another ciggie.
'Then that's the problem,' said Nadiel. 'God wants you to settle down, and get over it. Live a more productive lifestyle. And definitely a healthier one.'
'Marckonyel is as Marckonyel does,' replied Marckonyel proudly.
'Everyone has to grow up sometime,' replied Nadiel sharply, and sipped on some orange juice.
'Don't I know it,' sighed Marckonyel, puffing on his ciggie.
Later on, when Daniel and Nadiel had left for the day, going out to some function or another they mentioned, Marckonyel was in front of the TV set, watching Green Lantern Crusades, and thinking over what was said that morning. Perhaps it was, now, time to get his act together. Perhaps it was, now, time to finally grow up. Hell, he'd had a hell of a go at it. Gambler, fornicator, smuggler, black marketeer, boozer, loser and poozer, as Kilowog the Green Lantern might say. He'd been a rogue. That had been his specialty. That had been his life. Han Solo himself, John Constantine on a neverending blaze straight to the gates of hell. That is what it had always been about. Life on the dark side of the street, and he'd lived a few of those in his time. Yep, life had been an adventure. A crazy, fucking wild, insane and almighty adventure.
But times change.
He looked at the number of the Detox worker in the address book, rang it up and, when it was answered, realized that permanent change was coming. A rogue was finally learning to live in the real world, earn an honest buck, and settle down to a life of mediocre and pleasant pleasantville stability. Jesus Christ. What the hell was becoming of Marckonyel the Cherubim, he thought to himself.
Marckonyel on Ranladon
It was a miserable Ranladon morning. Ranladon, the third day of the month in the realm of eternity, named after Seraphims Raphael and Nimorel. It was a miserable morning, and Marckonyel was in a miserable mood. Jezanderael, his twin, had thrown a glass of water in his face at dinner the night before after he had confessed that he had again fornicated with an angel just the week prior, after they had started working things out again.
'God, was she pissed off,' said Marckonyel to Daniel, the heavy rain pouring in the early morning on a cold, cold day.
'What do you expect,' said Daniel. 'You cheated,' he replied, as he sipped on his hot morning coffee.
'Sweetcheeks has never really cared that much before about my shenanigans,' continued Marckonyel. 'It shocks me that she gave so much of a shit.'
'Had you started giving signals to her?' queried Daniel.
'He's too thick to know what signals are,' said Nadiel yawning, coming into the room, and turning on the gas heating.
'I think Marcy Mark knows what signals are,' said Daniel. 'You do, don't you Marckonyel?'
'Stop. Go. Next exit on the left,' replied Marckonyel grinning.
'He's a comedian,' smiled Nadiel, and they laughed a bit.
'You should know signals,' said Daniel. 'Your body language and how and what you say gives them out automatically. I think your twin had been getting what she thought were new signals of loyalty from yourself, and your perceived infidelity really annoyed her.'
'It's my fucking life,' said Marckonyel defensively.
'And Jezanderael is your twin,' replied Daniel instantly.
'So she is,' quipped Marckonyel, and lit up a ciggie.
'You never read the bible, huh?' queried Nadiel. 'You know, thou shalt not commit adultery and all that.'
'Vaguely aware of the book,' replied Marckonyel.
'You should read it. The book of Daniel is a classic,' replied the author of the said volume.
'I'll be sure to check it out sometime. But, as I said, it's not really any of her business, who and what I fuck,' said Marckonyel.
'What you fuck?' asked a surprised Nadiel. 'Are we talking homosexuality? Bestiality maybe?'
Marckonyel gave her a bothered look. 'I only fuck women. But whatever race or type of woman they are, whatever they are, its up to me whether I fuck them or not. NOT my twin.'
'To whom you are showing signals of loyalty, and who is confused and feeling betrayed about your own stubborn insistence to do what YOU want,' said Daniel.
Marckonyel looked at Daniel harshly for a moment, and then softened. 'I guess so,' he said.
'Anyway, don't you want to settle down now. Isn't that the whole point of why you are here?' asked Nadiel, sitting down at the kitchen table drinking her morning orange juice.
'I guess,' replied Marckonyel, nonplussed. 'I didn't realize it would require so many compromises. So many demands on my freedom.'
'Such is a life of responsibility,' said Daniel, and poured some fresh coffee into his mug.
'Yeh, yeh, I guess so,' replied Marckonyel, and thought on that for a while.
Later on, on the phone...
'Look, Jezzy. Sorry, sweetie. It was rude of me, and I should have known better. Forgive me, ok sweetcheeks. Forgive me.'
There was a long silence. Then, 'I'll think about it.'
Marckonyel sighed that evening, settling down to sleep on a miserable Ranladon. Perhaps he had learned a few things that day, about life, and about matters of the heart. Perhaps, at this ancient age, he was finally learning, finally getting over the old and stubborn rogue he had grown accustomed to. Still, what are you going to do, he thought to himself, as he finished his ciggie, rolled over, and quickly found sleep, the Sandman happily entertaining him well into the following Ukaladon morning.
Zadennuel Strikes Hard 2
'Caltek,' said Zadennuel, pausing to take a puff on his ciggie, and then staring Callodyn right in the face. 'Is an idiot. But what do you expect from a Saruvim?'
Callodyn was mad at the statement, but controlled his anger. 'Sure, sure thing Zaddy. Hey, is Suzandriel still working as a prostitute? Is she available tonight?'
King David sighed. Callodyn was an idiot to insult Zadennuel's twin.
The first blow landed on Callodyn's shoulder – Callodyn dodged well. The second blow landed on Callodyn's nose. It didn't bleed, Callodyn was tough. The third blow came in the groin. Callodyn almost cursed Jehovah.
The wrestling match which followed, and the cursing, was later recorded by King David in 'Chronicles of the Realm of Eternity' volume 6,784, a personal memoir he kept for Israel. It was remarked in latter years that 'Nobody could really curse like a Seraphim. Except a cherubim. The category of 'E' which stood for exemption for King David's chronicles upon their publication, for this particular volume, received an MA+, due to the graphic language. His readership were far from impressed.
Later that afternoon, after the 4 hour epic battle, an exhausted Callodyn and Zadennuel were in Az's place, seated together, drinking beer.
'Aye, I guess a Daly does know how to give a good punch up when pushed enough,' said Zadennuel. His three broken ribs ached a bit, but Zadennuel was ok.
'I suppose the Columbians have a few boxing champions. Perhaps they have passion after all,' replied Callodyn. He could still see through his two black eyes. It wasn't that bad.
'And a Daly has got a vicious right hook. When really pushed,' commented Zadennuel. The three missing front teeth didn't bother Zadennuel. Hey, that was what dentists were for.
'And I suppose not all Columbians are drug lords,' stated Callodyn honestly. He was sure his limp would last only a few days. He was sure.
'Yeh, you're alright,' said Zadennuel. 'Let me buy you another beer.' He was sure the doctors could bend the fingers on his left hand properly back into place. He wasn't worried. Medicine was good now.
'Columbian hospitality. Really, legendary,' replied Callodyn. He was still hopeful for more children, again, some day. I mean, his testicles were still attached – technically.
Looking on Michael nudged Gabriel. 'They've kissed and made up.'
'Gabriel, with a haggard look on his face, who had finally broken the brawlers apart,' replied honestly. 'Thank God for that.'
Devuel and Lara Stone
'Devuel, Devuel, Devuel. How's it hanging?' asked Callodyn the Cherubim to his elder Seraphim big brother.
'Mr Daly. It is hanging right were it should be,' responded the 30th born of the male Seraphim of the Realm of Eternity.
'Are you here to see Luladiel?' asked Callodyn, referring to his wife Katy, the Seraphim Luladiel, who was Devuel's twin.
'No, actually. Another reason. We have this script. It's for a new 'Arthur' movie, and we have a girl we would like in one of the key roles.' Devuel, whose human name was Russell Brand, had starred in the 'Arthur' movies on earth.
'What girl?' asked Callodyn perplexed.
'A relation of yours. Your great, great grandmother's sister, Lara Stone.'
'How did you know Gladys was my great, great grandmother asked Callodyn suspiciously.'
'Apparently you were Daniel the Seraphim's boy, who was Daniel Daly the Cherubim's boy, son of Cyril. Saruviel has accurate records from his sojourn on earth.'
'Bugger,' said Callodyn. That was a history he had for a long time with the other Daniel's deluded people on, fuzzing relationships between them constantly. He didn't like the facts being known.
'Yes, I know Lara. A good woman. Single, after all these years.'
'She's.........quite attractive,' said Russell.
Callodyn looked at him. 'You fancy Auntie Lara?'
Devuel came inside, and sat down, picked up the remote and switched on the TV. 'I'll have a can of Coke,' he said to Callodyn, who shrugged, and retrieved Devuel a can of coke from the kitchen fridge.
'Actually, that's the reason I want her in the movie. She's got the look we're after. A rare look.'
'So you've met her then?' asked Callodyn.
'Only briefly,' replied Devuel. 'She was incredibly polite and well spoken.'
Callodyn walked over to his desk, checked his address book on his PC, and returned shortly to Devuel. 'Here is her number. She lives out on the 94th Disc of the Realm. I forget its name.'
'Thanks,' said Devuel, looking at the number. He looked at Callodyn squarely. 'Enjoying Luladiel?'
Callodyn paused, and then responded. 'She's a scorpio rat. They don't come along every day.'
'No they don't,' replied Devuel, looking at a picture of Katy Perry on the wall. 'No they don't.'
Devuel rang Lara Stone later that week, and they arranged a meeting, and he proposed the film role to her. She declined for the time being, stating she was busy enough with her regular life, but said she would give it some thinking. But, as he had noticed before, she was well spoken, and immaculately polite. Indeed, immaculately so.
He had a crush.
'So this is where the shit goes down,' said Michael.
Gabriel looked over Az's place, the local pub in downtown Zaphona city for the elite of the Realm of Eternity. You ran a tab at Az's place. You didn't pay cash. You couldn't carry the amount of cash on you to cover the costs of the drinks.
'Yeh. Most likely shit,' replied Gabriel.
Cosadriel just walked past then, scratching his butt, and smelling quite fowl.
'Yeh, definitely the shit,' responded Michael.
They found an empty table, and sat looking at the place. There was a dead deer's head above the main bar, with a sign reading 'Az's place' hanging above it. Typical pub paraphernalia abounded, and the jukebox was full of AC DC tracks and other 70s metal gods. And boy it reeked of grog. A lot was consumed here, apparently, especially on Melladon's. There were 50 days in the Realm of Eternity Month, and while they hadn't initiated a week structure to start with, now there was a generally accepted 7 week cycle, followed by the 50th day of the month, after which Melladon, the first day, would start the cycle all over again. The weekend had snuck in, it was two days now, rather than just the sabbath. A lot of the people even now used the Sunday to Monday titles for the days, which had become ever increasingly popular for business purposes. Melladon was always a Sunday, which Michael remembered, but there was no official day named for the 50th day of the month yet, apart from Pentecost Day.
'Do you think he's doing good business?' Gabriel asked Michael.
'By the looks of these prices he must be raking it in,' replied Michael. 'You can buy a house further out in the realm for the price of one of these beers.'
'It's getting more expensive all the time,' responded Gabriel. 'And the population is still growing here, from various reports. Even Zaphon Tower is due an extension soon – right upwards.'
'I heard about that,' replied Michael. 'Apparently God is increasing the space between the realms also, which is part of a perpetual plan to grow the realm slowly. Oh, and Eternya has a technical limit at the moment, as God goes through old offerings. It was never in fact made eternal to start with.'
'A certain angels shit being processed. But then apparently the final work – the extension forever,' said Gabriel.
'Different stories on that. But God shared with me he doesn't reveal all the facts to everybody. Apparently everything is meant to generally grow in time, the nature of God's blessing on things. Zaphon Tower itself will eventually expand at base level, as all the discs in time will. He expands on things – slowly – but they earn their blessing with patience and, remarkably, through prayer and Torah study in the community. And he adjusts to those who put in the most work, so he told me. Certain overseers never stop praying for their disc, and they are the ones with the greatest blessings of prosperity coming to them,' said Michael.
Gabriel lifted his glass which the barista just left them. 'May Zaphora and Terraphora never stop growing.'
'Amen to that,' replied Michael.
'Azrael plans on building Az'a place on that idea, in time,' said a voice just then, from the neighbouring table. It was Azrael's twin, Kwintakel.
'Oh, didn't see you, Kwinny,' replied Michael. 'Long time no see.'
'I've been around,' replied the Seraphim. 'Azrael owns this bar, and plans on extending it time, with the growth, to a city of sorts, which he runs. Right in the heart of Zaphora. He has delegated his overseersmanship of his own disc to an underling, and plans on setting up shot eternally here in Zaphora.'
'Then good for him,' replied Michael. 'Always good to find a home.'
'And does firstborn have any grand plans to surprise us yet with?' asked Kwintakel.
'Just steady as she goes,' replied Michael. 'And we'll see where life takes us.'
'Amen to that,' replied Gabriel, and they sipped on their beers.
'Perhaps you could open a bar,' smirked Gabriel to Michael.
'I'll call it the 'Drunken Sailor,' smiled Michael.
'How about the 'Ill Tempered Seraphim,' responded Gabriel.
'Sounds perfect,' smiled Michael. 'But I'm not sure I can afford to compete with Azrael. 'With the profit he must be making from these prices, he'll drive me out of business before I even begin.'
'Well, such is life,' replied Gabriel.
'Such is life,' finished Michael.
Zadennuel and Marckonyel
'Marckonyel, my good friend. Long time no see. How goes it for the illustrious Green Lantern?'
Marckonyel, still looking at the 'Az's Keno' slip, looked up to look at the approaching angel. Old Zadennuel, the Columbian Drug Lord himself.
'You got any shit?' asked Marckonyel, looking around the bar for figures of authority.
Zadennuel glanced around, reaching into his jacket pocket, and pulled out a small plastic bag with a certain white powdery substance in it. He handed it to Marckonyel under the table.
'But my friend,' began Zadennuelel. 'I had heard you were straightening out your life. What gives?'
'I am. Don't get me wrong, I just need a fix at the moment. But it's been 3 bloody years living with Daniel Cherubim and I have hardly been allowed to even smoke recently, Nadiel being that bloody strict. This is only a temporary thing. I won't touch it again. Not for at least a few years, anyway.'
'I believe you,' sniggered Zadennuel.
'Do you know how this shit works?' asked Marckonyel, offering up the Az's Keno to his older Seraphim brother.
'Not the foggiest,' commented Zadennuel. 'It works different to regular Keno, it's all I have been told. I think you have to fill in a registration form which also has to have bank details.'
'Just like the frickin tab,' responded Marckonyel. 'And the ruddy prices he charges here! Unbelievable. I had to dig up old company shares and cash in on an eternity of patience waiting for dividend maturity. It's good though. Didn't know. They've grown slowly but steadily for an eternity. Can even afford Zaphora now with their value.'
'Then all is good,' responded Zadennuel.
'Jezanderael tells me about your woman. Winoniel. Has a few issues with you on egg sandwiches.'
'Oh, Jesus of blessed love. What the hell is the problem? Must everyone know?'
Azrael came up just then, donked a couple of beers on a tray in front of them, and said, 'Will they do?'
Marckonyel nodded. 'Should be fine, boss.'
'Ask Cosadriel to explain the keno to you,' said Azrael to Marckonyel. 'He's addicted to it.'
'Sure thing,' replied Marckonyel. 'Thanks again boss.'
'Boss?' inquired Zadennuel when Azrael had left.
'I work here. Part time. A few nights a month at the moment. Mainly to stabilize me in a regular routine, which my twin likes. We're getting along well, just at the moment. Even talk of me moving in with her.'
'So you have found family life, in the end. Even Marckonyel the wanderer, finally settling down.'
'Hey, that's life, aint it,' responded Marckonyel.
They sipped on their beers for a moment, and Zadennuel looked around the bar. 'Fancy a game of pool?'
'Sure thing,' replied Marckonyel.
And as they played a few games, a new friendship formed, and Azrael's place gained yet another in a long list of what would become well known, and well loved, regulars.
Kokabiel's Kollection of Kool Komix
'Kokabiel, I do declare, has the largest collection of cool comics in the universe,' declared Semyaza the Cherubim.
Kokabiel, fourth born of the Cherubim of the Realm of Eternity, stammerred. 'Ok. I fucking don't ok. Not the largest. The 'Daly' collection is technically largest. The one the 3 Daniel's share.'
Semyaza, sitting next to Sharakondra, turned to Kokabiel. 'What the fuck? You assured me, asshole, you had the largest.'
'It's mainly just Phantom comics. I have everything done on them, and a shit load of real old Asterix. But the Daly's collected everything.'
'For fuck's sake,' swore Semyaza, stood, growled, and fucked off to the back room of their club hangout.
'He's pissed off,' said Sharakondra.
'He'll push me around all arvo if I hang around,' said Kokabiel. 'I'm fucking off back to Melbourne.'
'See Colin,' replied Sharakondra, and picked up an issue of Vogue magazine and started skimming through it.
When Kokabiel, also known by his human name of Colin Carpenter, arrived home to Melbourne in Australia in Terraphora, his human only sister Andrea Carpenter was in his flat, currently washing the dishes.
'How long have you been here?' asked Kokabiel, walking into the kitchen.
'They approved my Visa for long stay,' replied Andrea. 'I've been here 4 weeks now.'
'Fine,' he said. 'Is the fridge full?'
'I've stocked up on all your usual stuff,' replied Andrea. 'Oh, a parcel arrived. From George Daly. Brother of Callodyn Daly.'
'Sure,' replied Kokabiel, and grabbed a can of coca cola from the fridge and walked into the living room, noticed the parcel, picked it up, sat down, and flicked on the TV.
He was drinking his coke and watching TV for a while, when he turned his attention to the parcel. It was rectangular, and weighed about half a kilo. He opened it carefully, and pulled out its contents.
There were a dozen comics. Old ones. Ancient ones. DC's, all of them. And a letter.
'Dear Kokabiel. Semyaza contacted Callodyn who spoke to me. Said well fucking done, doofus. We found out why he was upset. This is a starter kit from the family, as a gift. We encourage you. We know you have a pretty special collection, but you should branch out. Some ancient collectors sell their stuff occasionally, and while they cost a literal arm and a leg, perhaps you could consider increasing the size of your own collection. We do have an ulterior motive. Build up a big enough collection in time, and we would invite you to join our exclusive comic club were we read each others comics at our club hangout. Good luck with your collection. George Daly.'
Kokabiel looked at the comics. Superman, Batman, Justice League and Blue Beetle comics. They were old as well, and worth a fortune. He went to his desk, picked up a pen and some writing paper, and wrote.
'Dear George. Thank you very much. I think I might just do that. I have been known to read other types of comics, and this kickstarter package might be just the inspiration I need. It will restore some of Semyaza's faith in me anyway. Thanks greatly. Very much appreciated. Sincerly. Kokabiel.'
He mailed the letter the following day, and then, sitting on ebay for a few days, his eyes aghast at the actual cost the really old comics cost, he set to, making plans, and wondering just where this latest kick would lead him.
Kokabiel, Abaddon and Callodyn & Co
'Deathslayer is the best fucking comic of all fucking time,' commented Abaddon the Saruvim of Infinity, holding up a cover of the comic to Callodyn and Kokabiel to look at.
'Deathslayer has moderate artwork, and little linguistic appeal,' replied Callodyn, dismissing Abaddon's statement.
'Looks fucking cool,' said Kokabiel alternatively.
'Humph. Daly's. What do they know,' said Abaddon. 'Religious maniacs who think they rule the world. Ego's. Nothing more.'
'Coming from Satan's bestie, that's rich,' replied Callodyn.
'I have learned humility,' mocked Abaddon.
'Yeh. Humble enough to read shitty Deathslayer comics,' said Callodyn grinning.
'Yeh, coming from the man who thinks Blue Beetle is cool. I mean, he's not bad as a sidekick. To Fartman. But nothing more than that,' replied Abaddon.
'Hey, I've got a Fartman comic,' said Callodyn. 'Very crude stuff. It's great.'
'The Phantom rules supreme,' said Kokabiel.
'The ghost who walks,' replied Callodyn. 'Beware his wrath.'
'Deathslayer is all about wrath. You find yourself six foot under if you fuck with him,' said Abaddon.
'He's a trite punisher rip off,' said Callodyn.
'Oh, go fuck yourself,' said Abaddon. 'You can't read my Deathslayers now. I was going to graciously allow you for admitting me into this exclusive club, but you can get fucked now.'
'I'm sure my life will never be the same again,' replied Callodyn. 'Living without Deathslayer, the hero with a vocabulary of 14 words, and mainly expletives at that.'
'Fuck you,' replied Abaddon.
'Exactly,' said Callodyn.
'Richie Rich is pretty cool,' stated the formerly silent Ambriel.
The three others all glared at him, stunned.
'Like I was saying,' continued Abaddon, after a moment, and a few cautious looks at the Ambriel freak. 'Deathslayer kicks ass.'
'He's lame,' said Callodyn, not sure if he really should be letting Ambriel into this club with his Richie Rich collection.
'The Phantom rules supreme,' said Kokabiel.
'I like Nurse Jenny too,' said Ambriel. 'She has a heart of gold.'
The three angels looked at Ambriel again.
'Are you sure he should be in this fucking club?' asked Abaddon. 'He could ruin our rep.'
'We have a rep?' asked Kokabiel.
'The kick ass coolest comic club in creation,' replied Abaddon.
'I'm sure Ambriel will be fine,' said Callodyn. 'Just don't give him any Superman comics to read. He might get too excited.'
'And Casper is cool too,' said Ambriel.
'Jesus Christ!' swore Abaddon. The other two concurred with his sentiment.
Kokabiel in the Afternoon
Kokabiel had gotten home from his comic club excursion, and was at home, in the back room, just leafing through some of his Phantom comics. It was afternoon, and he was relaxed. In a thoughtful mood if anything. He was known to Abaddon from time to time, but one thing which struck him about the Saruvim was his crudity. Hey, the oldest of the Cherubim were the fallen angels, and they had always known they were bad boys in a way, but Abaddon was in a class of his own. He practically made Semyaza look sedate. Leafing through his comics he was thinking that over, and pondering some of Callodyn's words on how not long ago Abaddon had come to terms with a lot of stuff, and was a somewhat reformed character, despite appearances which might make you imagine the contrary as true. Kokabiel had eaten forbidden fruit once, in the beginning, and fallen from grace, following in the footsteps of Saruviel. And while their fall had been famous and noteworthy, he could never really imagine that he had been anything like the character which Abaddon had portrayed. The sheer savagery of his sarcasm – intense. And while he had met Satan from time to time, he had never gotten to know him well, and queried just what lay in the heart of that dark lord. He thought on Cherubim Torah and its teaching on repentance and holiness and walking with God, and he realized that, while he didn't take the Torah seriously for a long time, now he respected it and applied it occasionally. But had someone like Abaddon even ever looked at their own realm of infinity writings? It really made Kokabiel question. Still, his presence had been tolerable, and he made some classic jokes, albeit crude ones. He could cope with the motherfucker when it came down to it, and apparently Abaddon and Semyaza got along pretty well.
Kokabiel valued his status as one of the elite Cherubim angels in the Realm of Eternity, as they all did, and ultimately, while he had been rebellious in former years, he could not think to behave himself in such mad ways any more than perhaps Michael or Gabriel would. He was a reformed angel – a better man, as it where. He had a twin female, of course, Kerana, and they had an established relationship. She did not really feel herself ever taken with Kokabiel in a romantic sense, for there never had been a consensus in the realm that the twin must act as such. But the traditional role that God had defined for the twin, that of friend and support and bestie, in a sense, was taken quite seriously by Kerana, and she would often ring him on the phone, discuss her problems and issues, and her difficulties in being a traditional house wife, mother of several hundred children now, to a cherubim offspring male angel. Kerana was a Christian in her human manifestation on earth, and was a continual proponent these days of accepting Jesus as a pseudo-christ, although she maintained he had NOT been the official messiah of Israel. Her denomination had been an Indian church in Baroda, a small protestant house church assembly, but she had left that ultimately and joined the Presbyterian church for its greater sense of stability and holiness, in her own words. A far more comfortable environment, she had maintained with Kokabiel. Both of them were Indian angels, from India on earth and Terraphora. Kokabiel had been a Hindu in his time on earth, and had never left that faith, but when returning to the Realm had come to understand the problems with the ideas of deities in hinduism, and had left the community, going strictly be Cherubim Torah since.
Kokabiel lived in Australia, now, in Terraphora, and had been there for many years. He had wandered into a newsagency once, seen a bunch of Phantom comics, bought some, and now had several thousand of them. He had other things as well, but mainly enjoyed reading the Phantom. Kokabiel was usually a single guy, and had the occasional flirtatious and intimate encounter with a female angel of the realm. Naturally, he had married a number of times in his earlier life and past incarnations, and like his twin had many children, who visited him regularly. Mainly, it was his natural earthly sister, though, who kept him company from time to time, and he was strong with his mother and father, and had no grand desire to yet find his eternal mate and settle down forever. There were still wild oats to sow, but he had assured the theophany Wolfgang that he would eventually settle with, most likely, just one permanent wife. Just not yet. He had old shares, now, bought at a very expensive price initially, but which did his work, so he didn't have to. He kept himself busy enough in his Perth flat, went to the local clubs on weekends quite a bit for a dance, and a shag if he was lucky enough.
He was a cricket fan, and followed the Indian team religiously, always checking the Indian Cricket Board website for results. He didn't play outdoor cricket, but did play indoor cricket competitively, and had been on champion teams over the years. He watched a lot of TV, surfed the Internet, went to restaurants, skiing up in the mountains in colder months, and hung out with Semyaza and Urakiba and the grew most often, though he did have other friends. He was in the Daly's elite comic club, which had over 50 members, but under 100, although Callodyn would never let him know all the official members. And, apart from that, was a quiet enough, regular sort of Cherubim angel, who had a designated underling take up his work in his overseermanship responsibility for his own disc of the Realm of Eternity, and lived the simple Terraphoran life, as he had mostly always done. That was the life of Kokabiel the Cherubim, and he was happy enough with it for the most part, and didn't really want any change. NO – he didn't really want any change whatsoever. Funny how life throws you curve balls from time to time.
Gilgadel on the Grog
'Gilgamesh. I do believe you are wasted,' stated Azrael honestly.
'Giv meh anutha beer, mutha fukka,' said a truly wasted Iraqi angel, the 67th Seraphim male angel of the Realm of Eternity, Gilgadel.
'And they say Muslims don't drink,' said Cosadriel. 'Bullshit. They get just as pissed as the rest of us.'
'Not on Ramadan,' said Gilgadel, and pointed Azrael towards the bar.
'It's your funeral,' replied Azrael.
Half an hour later Gilgadel was singing Muslim songs, and God, was Azrael pissed.
'If he sings the praises of Allah one more time, I will shove Allah up his back passage,' commented Azrael to Cosadriel.
Cosadriel looked at Azrael. 'I've got a suggestion. Say to him Allah is a minor deity of ill repute.'
Azrael looked at Saddy. 'I couldn't,' but there was a mad Scottish look on his face, and he came around from the bar and sat in front of Gilgadel. 'As deities go, Allah is B grade on a good day,' he said to Gilgadel.
Gilgadel suddenly became furious. 'All praise to Allah, you Scottish bastard,' and suddenly started turning over tables, in a mad fury.
'Perhaps he could join Al Qaeda,' said Cosadriel, leaning against the bar next to Azrael, as they watched the Muslim tirade.
'All praise to Allah!' yelled Gilgadel again, as he found the pool cue stick and dragged it across the pool table, making a terrible tear, which caused Azrael to grimace.
'His Allah is costing me a bloody pretty penny,' said Azrael, watching on amused.
Eventually Gilgadel calmed down, resumed his seat, and signalled for Azrael to get him another beer.
'Are you sure you can handle it? Maybe Allah will get mad again,' said Azrael.
'Allah is a God of peace,' replied Gilgadel.
Azrael looked around at the wrecked state of the bar. 'Yet his vengeance is swift and sure,' stated Azrael honestly.
'All praise to Allah,' said Gilgadel, and burped, and passed out, his head collapsing on the bar table.
'He'll be out for hours,' said Cosadriel amused.
Azrael turned to Cosadriel and grinned. 'Then all praise to Allah for small mercies.'
'Amen to that,' replied Cosadriel and toasted his beer to Azrael.
Gilgadel and Marckonyel
'You need to let Jezzy know who the boss is,' said Gilgadel the Seraphim to Marckonyel regarding his twin. They were in 'Az's place' discussing life.
'Give me a break, Gilly,' responded Marckonyel. 'Western women are very different to your timid Muslim brides. They're outspoken. Most of them feministic these days. They don't like being told what to do. Get up and start acting like a man and they get team power-woman on your case, and you won't hear the end of it for ages.'
'Slap her around a little,' said Gilgadel, taking a draw on his cigarette. 'She'll come round.'
'The wisdom of Islam,' replied Marckonyel dryly.
'Oh, I could speak forever on the wisdom of Islam,' replied the Prince of Iraq. 'It is a holy and eternal religion, which continues to grow every year, and rivals Christianity to this day. We have never stopped our observance of the holy Quran. We are faithful.'
'Religion. Bah, not my cup of tea,' responded the Cherubim. 'God knows, these days I've had my fill of lectures from Daniel and Nadiel, and have learned a thing or two I guess, but I'm a free spirit. Just not sure if settling down is for me.'
'Yet you now work here and, from my own observations, seem faithful to the job. Perhaps there is more obedience and submission to Allah in your heart than you care to recognize.'
'Humph,' said Marckonyel, looking at Gilgadel. 'I'm a presbyterian actually. If you really must know. I don't talk about it much, but was baptized into that church aeons ago. Every millennia or so, though, I do rock up for a church service.'
'Then praise the Lord Jesus and put your woman in her place. We men need to be more assertive. Not let Eve have her say all the time. It is us who rule, after all,' replied Gilgadel.
'You rule nothing more than a pumpkin patch,' commented Kwintakel, Azrael's twin, who had been listening. 'And that poorly.'
'Hah. Scottish wisdom. Good for making fowl haggis and nothing more,' retorted Gilgadel.
'Well I know what to do with a haggis once its finished. And where exactly to shove it,' replied Kwintakel.
'The fowl woman needs to learn her place, I think,' said Gilgadel, glaring at Kwintakel.
'Shove it Babylonian Bastard,' replied Kwintakel, and stuck her fingers up at him.
Gilgadel just glared back at her and returned his focus to Marckonyel. 'Do not listen to the haggis. She has a sporan up her butt.'
'Not as bad as having a....,' started Kwintakel but Azrael interrupted her.
'Now, now. Sweetie. Don't upset a paying customer,' said Azrael to Kwintakel.
'Gilgadel was always an ass,' replied Kwintakel, still glaring at Gilgadel, who was puffing on his ciggie. 'Custom we could do without as far as I am concerned.'
'Silly woman,' said Gilgadel, looking at Marckonyel.
'I'll sort my shit out in time,' said Marckonyel. 'And Jezanderael and I get along just fine. She doesn't push me around, despite what you might think.'
'Then the western shortbread man must do what he does. But you know my advice,' replied Gilgadel, who stuck his tongue out at the glaring Kwintakel.
'I sure do,' said Marckonyel, who sighed, picked up Gilgadel's empty beer glasses, and returned to his work, as Kwintakel and Gilgadel continued making rude gestures at each other the rest of the afternoon.
Gilgadel's Building Supplies Empire
'Hazan! Where is that fool?' shouted out Gilgadel in the head office of his head office of 'Gilgadel Building Supplies and Materials'.
Jacinta Saldana, his secretary, tried calming down her intemperate boss. 'It is Hazan's day off, boss. You were told this morning.'
'The idiot. Never here when I need him. Here, look this over. Its a new contract for 7 inch nails out on the 12,311th disc. Boonie Boys are building 17 million new amusement parks on the disc, and if we win this contract its major income for the company for a while. Check the sums.'
'Sure boss,' said Jacinta, taking the contract, and looking appeasingly at her hot tempered boss.
'Go, go,' said Gilgadel, waving her away.
Gilgadel returned to his office, and looked over his report from his R&D team. Eternya. Not the great eternal plain, but the product itself. It cost a fortune, always did, and had not always been afforded in the earlier years of the realm, but now everyone wanted it for building especially, and Gilgadel was facing a grim reality. In the end, when, and not really if, the structures of the Realm all became eternal, he was somewhat out of a job. With everlasting product, it was only in the great Eternya plain that a future could hope to be achieved. But, no, he had been hearing rumours that expansions were now in place, of addresses, based on prayer. That even Zaphora was set to expad now, in time, however that was conceivably possible. If so work would go on for good, which was the ideal. Otherwise he would be left with operating an office furniture rental company, and probably nothing more. He was thinking about gradually moving into IT and records management, but for now the business was strong and afloat. Time would tell, though. Time would tell.
Gilgadel's business empire was enormous, spanning not just the Realm of Eternity, but all the major realms. There was a host of major competitors, but that was life, and he wasn't shying away from the competition. He had built his fortune on hard work, a motto of his empire, and it would be a shame to see it one day dwindle away. But for now things were good and life was prosperous.
He picked up the glass paperweight on his desk, and turned to look out at the scenery of Babylon city in the disc of Terraphora. His office was on the ground floor, as he had a fear of heights, and didn't like tall buildings. But it was situated atop a crest, and he had a marvellous view of much of the city. Babylon, city of splendour. He loved her so. A million things to do, and a million places to go. It had been his home, here in Terraphora, for so long, that he could never really enjoy living anywhere else. His family were here, and everything he needed was here. It was a short trip on the bullet train to Zaphora, where he visited 'Az's place' every friday evening, a place which the Seraphim and Cherubim elite frequented often since its recent inception. Oh, he was indeed a Muslim, and rarely drank to excess, but had gotten blotto a few times recently to vent some of his frustrations. But he only ever drank alcohol in Zaphora, and never came home with a smell of the stuff on his breath. That was his godfearing policy.
Gilgadel, in the end, was a happy angel. His life was full and busy, the way he liked it, and while he was not married to his twin, she supported him and he supported her, and there was understanding between them. Life was mostly good for Gilgadel the Seraphim, and at this point in his sojourn of life he wouldn't really change anything. Yet time, as it was always said amongst the Seraphim, would tell of what would be.
Gilgadel and Marckonyel II
'Then come and work for me at my company. If Azrael will only give you part time, work one day a week for me. Jacinta has been hassling me for a new help on Stock Reports for ages now. You do that here? How about it?'
Marckonyel looked at Gilgadel, considering his offer. 'I don't know. How will I get there?'
'The VFT from Terraphora to Zaphora is very quick. Half an hour between Babylon and here, easily. Barely a commute.'
'I'll think about it,' replied Marckonyel.
'What's there to think about. If the son of the Presbyterians is really going to settle down, settle down with us. We are an equal opportunity employer, and welcome all castes and religions to our work force. It matters not to me.'
'Oh, fuck it,' said Marckonyel, and shook Gilgadel's hand.
'Your funeral,' said Kwintakel snidely, looking at the cards in their hand of poker.
'Phooey to you Scottish heathen,' said Gilgadel, and looked at his cards. He laid them down on the table. '3 Aces. Beat that daughter of a motherless goat.'
'Full house,' said Kwintakel, laying down her cards proudly.
'You know,' started Gilgadel to Marckonyel. 'She smells of the worst haggis in creation, but she never loses at poker. It is Azrael's training, I tell you.'
'Bite me,' said Kwintakel, raking in her cash.
'Deal the cards, infidel,' said Gilgadel, and another round began.
Four weeks later, Marckonyel was on the VFT (Very Fast Train) for his second morning at work that week. He had 3 days for the first week, and then just Monday's. There was a familiar lady from yesterday who sat next to him again. She was middle eastern of some sorts, and seemed to be an angel from what he could sense. He decided to speak to her today.
'Hey babe. Marckonyel,' he said, indicating himself.
She just smiled warmly at him.
'Off to work, I take it?'
She smiled at him again, and nodded.
'Me, I'm at a new job. Gilgadel's Building Supplies and Materials. Head office position.'
'Oh, you are so lucky,' she suddenly replied. 'Gilgadel is well respected in Babylon. He is one of our most fearsome princes. A strong defender of Islam.'
'I'm just an employee,' he replied. She smiled again.
'My name is Katerina,' she said warmly. 'It is nice to meet you Marckonyel.
'Likewise,' he replied.
They sat in silence for the rest of the trip, but when he got off before her, he nodded at her, and she returned his smile. Nice chick, he thought to himself, as he waited for the bus which stopped just outside of his workplace.
'You are on time,' said Gilgadel. 'This is good. A good example. You'll be an executive before you know it.'
'Thanks boss,' replied Marckonyel.
'Well, you know what to do. Get to it,' said Gilgadel, and shooed him off to his desk.
And, as Marckonyel sighed, picking up a sheet of paper, he thought on his new job, his new life, and the chick on the VFT, and looked heavenwards, smiled that Marckonyel smile, and got on with his day's work. Another new beginning, another new start, in the life of Marckonyel, cherubim angel of the Realm of Eternity.
Gilgadel's Building Supplies Empire 2
'So, Wolfgang, my Lord. How is it with you Sir?'
'Call me Wolfric,' responded the Theophany of God to Gilgadel. 'I go by that name also.'
'Sure thing, Wolfric. What's up?'
'I wanted a chat,' said Wolfric, sitting on the swivel chair opposite Gilgadel's desk in the head office of the head office of Gilgadel's Building Supplies and Materials. The head office building itself was vast, and they were in the head office section, as it was called as a joke of the head office, the actual office section, the rest of the building filled with warehouses and other buildings.
'Wanted to inform you on a matter of concern. You have served me faithfully, my son, for a long time now, without any great regard from myself.'
'I have assumed you were busy,' replied Gilgadel.
'I often have been,' replied Wolfric. 'But not too busy to reassure you on a point. The expansion of the addresses is based on vertical truths, rather than horizontal, and linked by travel portals. You speak or make your intentions known to the portal, and it will take you to the level of your address you desire. The physical size of the address will not change on the horizontal level it is part of, but vertically it will expand downwards eternally once sufficient blessing warrants the earning of the new level. The sublevel already has the road system established by my own work, but new addresses only come online, as it were, once they have earned their blessings. That is how the expansion works.'
'Oh. Oh, that is good,' replied Gilgadel.
'Eternya is expensive for manufacturing,' replied Wolfric. 'But I will expect that nearly all the time now, and especially on the sub levels as they come into operation. Is that understood? Take few contracts requesting otherwise.'
'Yes sir,' replied Gilgadel.
'Good,' said Wolfric. 'Oh, how's Marckonyel fitting in. Hazan tells me he has found a new girlfriend.'
'The Katerina lady. A solid Muslim. She visits him at lunch time.'
'I'm afraid Jezanderael has another wait to catch her man again, if she ever does,' stated Wolfric.
'I am sure Katerina will make him happy, should it work out,' replied Gilgadel.
'Humph. One other thing, Kokabiel. The Seraphim. Do you have a position for him here at head office. He needs to work, now.'
'Oh, sure sure,' replied Gilgadel. 'I'll look him up.'
'Do that,' replied Wolfric. 'And one last thing, good work. You've done your father proud.'
'Thank you Allah,' replied Gilgadel.
'Wolfric,' responded the Theophany.
They chatted smalltalk for a while longer, and when Wolfric left, Gilgadel sat in his chair, pleased with himself. He had God's blessing. Allah be praised. And a new Seraphim co-worker by the looks of it, as well as the answers he needed. Good things were happening again for the life of Gilgamesh he thought to himself. Good things were happening again. He turned in his desk, looked at the PC screen, and typing away, hummed a happy tune to himself, lost again in his own world, the happy and blessed world of Gilgadel, the 67th male Seraphim angel of the Realm of Eternity.
Kokabiel in the Afternoon II
Kokabiel looked at the mail. Two official looking letters. It never bloody rained. Melladon afternoon, and he had parties to go to, but he picked up the letters and began reading.
'Dear Kokabiel. I have a position to offer you. In Gilgadel's Building Supplies and Materials. I am sure a Cherubim looking to settle down could look no further than a fine establishment run by a respected Seraphim. I was asked by a certain Theophany to offer you a position, so at head office in Babylon in Terraphora, report yourself ready for work if you are interested. All the best. Seraphim Gilgadel.'
Short but sweet, thought Kokabiel to himself. He looked at the next letter.
'Yo. Kokabiel. Bad shit has re-emerged in the Realm of Eternity and Hell is active again. Chaos crystals are re-emerging, and Saruviel and I could use your help to combat the new threat. It's a hell of a job, a hero's work, so are you up for it buddy. Email me if you are interested. Xaddadaxx of Infinity.'
'My, my,' thought Kokabiel to himself. 'Nice sweet office job, or combating hell itself. How could there really be any choice in that?'
He emailed Xaddadaxx later that evening to accept the work, and wondered to himself just what he was getting himself into.
Xaddadaxx and the Chaos Crystal IV
'So you got my letter, Koky baby.'
'I did indeed,' replied Kokabiel the Cherubim to Xaddadaxx's statement.
'Good. Like I said, hell has resurfaced with its old Thunderwheel agenda. It's different this time. The crystal's are darker, blood red, burgundy really. And Saruviel and I are on overtime dealing with them.'
'I've also accepted a job with Gilgadel, but I can help from time to time,' said Kokabiel.
'Should be fine,' replied Xaddadaxx.
'Anyway, this place we are here at is called Fort Vengeance. It's Saruviel and my headquarters for our anti-chaos operations.'
'Stuck in the middle of a Mitraphoran wasteland?' queried Kokabiel.
'Necessary,' replied Xaddadaxx. 'We deal with some nasty shit here, believe me.'
'I believe you,' responded Kokabiel, looking around.
'Saruviel will be here in the morning, then we take a flight with the van south a fair bit. It's up in Grimwarden peaks in Southern Mitraphora.'
'Sounds pleasant,' said Kokabiel.
'If its one thing, it aint pleasant,' said Xaddadax.
'I'm sure I'll get the hang of it,' said Kokabiel confidently.
'You'd better,' replied Xaddadaxx honestly.
The following afternoon, when they landed at an airport south of Cardinal City in southern Mitraphora, Saruviel, taking the wheel of the van, turned to Kokabiel.
'Remember. You might get woozy. Especially the first time.'
'I'll cope,' replied Kokabiel.
'Let's hope so,' said Saruviel.
Three days later they had begun their trek up the Grimwarden mountain ranges. Kokabiel had vomited twice already, and Saruviel didn't like the looks of him.
'I'll just cope,' said Kokabiel bravely.
After a while they came to a meadow. The landscape had gradually been turning rotten and fowl and Saruviel swore. The grass was all mottled and blackened, and horrible looking creatures seemed to be congregating in the middle of the meadow.
'Tralkinds,' said Xaddadaxx. 'A half dozen of them.'
'I hope your aim is straight,' said Saruviel to Kokabiel.
The small three angel posse approached the Tralkinds. It was weird. They were singing.
'What they hell are they saying?' asked Kokabiel.
As they neared they could hear the words of the Tralkinds more clearly.
'Satan, Satan, he is great. Jehovah God is who we hate.'
And they repeated it over and over again.
'Oh, they're all charm,' said Kokabiel sarcastically.
The Tralkinds turned and looked at the intruders on their delight.
'Scum angels,' said one of the Tralkinds, and they started towards the angels menacingly.
The fight was nasty, and Saruviel was finishing off his second Tralkind with a machete when he noticed Kokabiel was on the ground. Xaddadaxx and Saruviel came and stood over him. A Tralkind had run its claw over Kokabiel's arm, and it was bleeding profusely. Kokabiel was unconscious, but still breathing.
'Rookies,' said Xaddadaxx to Saruviel.
'He did take out his two, though,' responded Saruviel.
They spent the night down the ranges a little, and Kokabiel had a fever and was sweating. He would wake from time to time, screaming, but then pass out again. It was a worrisome few days, but Xaddadaxx and Saruviel nursed him carefully back to health.
A full week later Kokabiel had started to recover.
'As evil as they were, the stench was the hardest thing to deal with,' said Kokabiel.
'Hey, it's a shitty job,' began Xaddadaxx.
'But someone has to do it,' finished Saruviel.
'Just don't quit your day job,' Xaddadaxx said to Kokabiel.
'If I ever get to it,' muttered Kokabiel, and again winced as a shot of pain again ran through his injured arm.
'At least the pay is good,' said Xaddadaxx.
'We get paid?' queried Kokabiel, eyebrow raised.
'In your dreams, rookie,' replied Xaddadaxx, and laughed as the trio boarded the van, and started their long but, fortunately for them, uneventful journey back home to civilization.
Gospel Followers III
'Well, we did publish the Kosher Gospel of Matthew, and I knew you had heard about that, but didn't really know you'd found out about the Church of Glorious Hope,' responded Daniel to Jesus on the discussion they were involved with.
'Peter let me know,' said Jesus.
'I do recall a visit from the head of Catholicism,' replied Daniel, and smiled warmly. 'So. What? You want to affiliate with us? We don't grow much, you know? We never speak of it in public, and don't encourage children in the fellowship to join at all you know. Usually they are refused unless they are dead serious. It's not something I've been trying to grow, you know.'
'We are happy enough for you to affiliate with the Uniting Church of Australia, if you will permit their head pastorship,' said Jesus.
'Ok,' said Daniel. 'That should be fine. You do know now that we are not a Christian congregation, but we do hold to messages of the Gospel?'
'That will be sufficient enough for the Uniting Church now,' responded Jesus. 'They are satisfied now with your long life witness and your dedication to holiness. It was questioned as shallow for a long time, but you seem to have pulled through over the long haul.'
'Why thank you Lord Jesus,' said Daniel, bowing slightly.
'Your welcome, child of mine,' responded Jesus, and Daniel grinned at that.
'But we don't meet much,' said Daniel.
'That's fine,' said Jesus.
'And we're not Christian,' said Daniel.
'That's fine,' said Jesus.
'Then everything is kosher,' said Daniel.
And they chatted the afternoon away, as a new communion of souls, perhaps one a long time waiting, began with a new beginning.
Dick Dagger: Dick up a Lesbian
Dick Dagger. Notorious Hull copper in England in Terraphora. Son of the equally notorious Jack Dagger. He was in a fowl mood. Miranda had hired him. Miranda Highcourt, a lesbian trillionairre. Someone had stolen her jewels and she wanted them back.
Miranda was at home, talking with her butler Jeeves. She'd had 4 visits recently, two from Dick Dagger and two from his father Jack Dagger, who he had roped in on the case.
'I've had enough of Jack n Dick,' said Miranda to Jeeves. 'They are making no headway. It's been 3 weeks and nothing.'
'Perhaps Detective Major, as I suggested,' responded Jeeves.
'No. He's too – formal. Doesn't like lesbians that much,' replied Miranda.
'The family is well respected by the Detective. We have used his services many times.'
'Too stuffy,' said Miranda. 'I'll let the Daggers handle it for now.'
Dick was snooping around 'The Alternative Pussy' nightclub. Miranda's gay hangout. Pussy everywhere. Lesbian pussy.
'So,' he said to a lady. 'You know Miranda well?'
'Oh, she's wonderful,' replied the lady. 'But I didn't steal the bitches jewels.'
'Any idea who might want them?'
'Try talking to Jessica over there. She is wearing them at the moment by the looks of it.'
Dick turned. A blonde lady was wearing a necklace, tiara, and appeared to have the 2 rings from the description. He turned back to the lady he was talking to.
'You didn't care to tell Miranda who had stolen them?'
'She's a bitch. Got what she deserved. Jessica has hated her forever. Parades around in them. Look what I stole, she says.'
'Right,' said Dick, and wandered over to Jessica.
'I can arrest you, so it would be best if you just handed them over.'
Jessica held tightly her necklace and said, 'How about I give you some, and we forget the whole matter.'
Dick up a lesbian, Dick thought to himself. That could be interesting.
'I'm a P.I. with a solid reputation,' said Dick.
'I'll throw in a blow job as well,' she said, smiling wickedly.
Jack was unable to resist.
When they'd had fun for an hour or so, he slapped her arse, and grabbed the jewels. 'I'll let you off this time,' said Dick. 'But next time I'll be right up your arse.'
'Can hardly wait,' said Jessica.
Miranda Highcourt was happy to have her jewels back. She suggested the same thing Jessica had for payment. Jack was a spent force, so declined.
'Oh, oh well,' said Jessica, signing a cheque. 'Trust me, it won't bounce.'
'Let's hope so,' said Dick.
The Cheque bounced. Dick was most upset. He chalked it up to experience and his old man said those were the breaks dealing with the slutttier citizens of Hull. Dick got his vengeance, though. He stole the Jewels back, found Jessica and said 'One more time, and I'll give these back to you.'
'I'm not sure if my arse can stomach it,' replied Jessica.
'I'll be gentle,' said Jack. But he gave it to her. Jessica didn't mind. Dick up a lesbian was a rare enough experience in her life. And the jewels were quite a nice reward indeed.
Alf Lambert was not so fucking gay anymore. After the countless aeons of existence slowly, so slowly, the Mighty Fletch had gotten to him. Peter Fletcher, head of the True Universal Catholic Church of the Mighty Way of the Fletch, was a resoundingly devoted heterosexual. God created Adam and Eve, not Adam and Steve, was one of the Fletcherism’s which had, albeit slowly, caught on in the Church. The central idea of the theology was that the dick went in the cunt – Fletch kept it as simple as that. Alf found the theology, slowly – illuminating.
So, gradually, the altar boys began becoming less and less of an obsession until one day he walked in and looked at Haylie.
‘Maybe I should fuck women only,’ he said.
‘Genius,’ she responded, and came over, pulled down his pants, and blew his mind.
The prostitution, though – the hetero kind – took off after that in more copious cum-filled adventures than ever. If the ‘Alfster’ was going to fuck women, then, by Jehovah’s Holy Testicles, he would shag a trillion of them. Alf did in fact assume that Jehovah had holy testicles, for he had met the theophany of God occasionally, and the man was one of the holiest beings, barring the Mighty Fletch, that he had ever met. And sometimes he even questioned if the Fletch could match him.
Fletch walked with Alf, the great Priest of the True Universal Church and, as the years passed by, Fletch taught him more of responsibility and raising his voluminous offspring in the fear of the Holy Quaternity. Alf did not flinch in his devotions.
Yes, Alf grew in holiness, and the Dick which had known more male anuses than Freddie Mercury and Elton John combined finally succumbed to the pleasures of the clitoris and the happiness of a tight pussy.
He was a changed man.
* * * * *
‘The thing is, Alf, we are buggered if we know what to do next. Organisation Kaotica is devious, very bloody devious. And all in the name of hilarity, so they claim. Troublemakers, nothing more than that I tell you. A big fat pain in the butt.’
‘I don’t know,’ responded Alf. ‘Some of their classic heists make great news stories.’
‘Advocating a sinners lifestyle?’ queried Robert Langdon.
‘I’m no saint,’ responded Alf. ‘The shit I have done in my time, for fuck’s sake. Satan might even be jealous.’
‘Law and order is the domain of a true Catholic’s heart,’ continued Robert. ‘A long time ago some of us thought the grace of Jesus was what it was all about. But after a long communion of faith in our church, the Vatican finally ruled Jesus, in point of fact, was not the Christ.’
‘Yeh. Zerubbabel. I’ve read books on it. Probably right, as well. Fletch maintains Quaternity tradition, but acknowledges the point. Jesus works for me, but nah. He’s not messiah.’
‘Which is why,’ continued Robert, ‘That as faithful servants of God’s Torah, the Holy Catholic church do not tolerate such actions as the stealing of the Temple Menorah which Kaotica have done. We have been paid a lot of money by the Sanhedrin to turn our resources also for the solving of the crime. And, as much as I might regret it, we could use you on the case also.’
‘It’s made of Eternya, isn’t it?’ queried Alf.
‘Yes, I believe most things now are like that. Time has afforded such luxuries from God on that issue.’
‘Then why worry. It will turn up in time.’
‘Israel has a reputation to maintain. Terraphora Temple’s missing Menorah is not exactly the reputation they want to maintain. It’s the official Earth Menorah, after all. They esteem holiness, which will not change.’
‘Humph. I wouldn’t sweat it,’ responded Alf.
‘And if the Fletchers ancient basketball collection went missing?’
‘Don’t blaspheme,’ said Alf. ‘Fine. Ok. I get the point. Crucial for Catholicism. I’ll look into it. You have an advance payment I take it?’
Robert almost glared at Alf, but handed over an envelope. ‘Ten Billion. You solve the mystery, a full Googol.’
‘Why so much? No, I understand. Very important to them.’
‘Fundamental,’ responded Langdon.
‘Count on me,’ responded Alf.
‘We may have to,’ said Robert, and took a sip of his lemonade.
‘This is not a trivial matter, Alf. The holiness of God’s sacred relics is fundamental to the faith of the community. Take it a bit more seriously, ok Alf. Try.’
‘Will do,’ saluted Alf.
When Robert left Alf looked at the cheque. ‘Ten Billion Credits. Quite an advance. Lots of hookers with that. But solving the mystery. Where would he start? He had some contacts who might help, and Haylie knew a bit about Kaotica. He would go with that. But, for now, a lady tonight, and some putt putt golf for the weekend which he had promised himself. But soon enough, another mystery for the worlds biggest Dick. And watchout Kaotica – Alf Lambert would soon be right up your arse. Perhaps in more ways than one.
'Bitch. Where are my golf shoes?' shouted out Alf.
'Your Anus,' replied Haylie.
'Uranus?' replied Alf. 'What are they doing on Uranus? It's a gas planet. They only have stellar stations circling it.'
Haylie came into the room. 'They are probably in your frickking cupboard with the rest of your shit. How the fuck would I know.'
'Uh, yeh,' he replied. The clothes cupboard of Alf Lambert was legendary. It was rumoured tiny little hobbits, dwarf hobbits to be precise, had a small community beneath all the crap in it. Hobbits liked to live under the ground, and with the amount of crap Alf had hoarded over the years they were likely in there somewhere.
'Were to begin,' he sighed. Haylie came in the room and looked at the mess.
'Pay me my pay cheque again, and I'll find them for you,' she said.
'I gave you a pay cheque last decade,' he replied.
She glared at him. 'Fine, asshole,' she said and dived in. Alf sat on his bed, lit a ciggie, and stared at the girls ass as she started searching for the golf shoes.
'Any ideas on Kaotica,' he said, watching her butt. It was a cute butt. Ms Mathers always had a cute butt as far as he was concerned.
'Been thinking about that,' she replied. 'I know this prostitute, who knows another prostitute, who knows a drug dealer, who has a friend in the Ku Klux Klan, with Nazi Contacts, that have information on the activities of the Russian Mafia.
'What's that got do to with it,' he replied. 'Nothing,' she said. 'I just know people. I know this chick who once had relations with Elvis also.'
'Find the damn shoes,' said Alf, and puffed on his ciggie.
She finally rifled out his shoes, which had a goo of bubblegum on the bottom of both of them, and sat next to him on the bed. 'There is this guy this prostitute friend of mine knows. He's a shady character, and I know a few shady characters. He has an unofficial contact with Kaotica. I can potentially line up a meeting with him, if it is kept very discreet.'
'You know me,' replied Alf. 'The master of discretion.'
'You piss on the front lawn when you are too lazy to go inside and do it. Your hardly the master of discretion,' replied Haylie.
'Shaddup,' replied Alf. 'When can you line up the meeting.'
'Give me a few days,' she replied. 'I'll look into it.'
'Fine. You do that. Now let's golf. Get your gear on. Putt Putt Heaven here we come.'
Haylie sighed. Another fine day with Alf Lambert jerking around. But what else could you do, huh?
* * * * *
'Four!' yelled Alf.
'It's frikking putt putt, you idiot,' stated Haylie frankly.
'I know it's frikking putt putt,' replied Alf. 'I'm being dramatic sweet cheeks. It's all for the show.'
People were staring at the clown who was Alf Lambert, dressed in a canary yellow bright shirt, green and red striped pants, socks up to his knees, and bright beanie cap on. They did not appear impressed.
'I say, old chap,' said Alf to a gentleman staring at him. 'Good day for it, what ho?'
The man shook his head and said 'Freakshow.' Alf grinned back madly.
'Take the frikking shot,' said Haylie.
Alf stepped off the hole for a moment, tore some grass up and held it up to the sky and let it fall.
'What the hell are you doing?' asked Haylie.
'Wind direction,' replied Alf. 'It's crucial to how the ball will travel through the air.'
'It's fucking frikking putt putt you moron. You hit the ball on the frikkking ground,' she replied.
He looked at the hole, and realized she was correct. 'The ground you say. And what is the objective of golf anyway? I rarely play the game?'
'We were here last week dildo breath. You equalled your personal best for this course,' she said.
'Oh, GOLF you say. Right. Well here goes.' He steadied himself, putted the ball, and it knocked off 4 walls on the loopy hole, before plummeting in the hole. 'Hole in one bitch. What I should do to you when we are finished here.'
'Keep on dreaming buster. My turn.' Haylie took 3 shots, and made par, and Alf was grinning madly at her.
'This prostitute. When can you contact her?'
Haylie glared, again, at him, and took out her mobile and dialled a number. 'Bitch. It's Haylie,' she said. 'Jack off needs to see you about a bloke. Right. Yep. Cool. Ok. Seeya.' Haylie put the phone back in her pocket. 'She'll come around tonight. Round 7.'
'Right,' said Alf. 'Hole 2 here we come. I'm feeling lucky today.' Haylie sighed.
* * * * *
'Rodrigo Fuentes is a crafty old John. He shags me once a month, and will get away without paying if he at all can,' said the tattoo covered whore.
'They real tatts?' asked Alf, sipping on a beer.
'Temporaries,' replied the whore. 'You think I'm stupid. Skin rots eventually on the real ones. I'm not silly.'
'How can I get in contact with Fuentes?' asked Alf.
The whore looked a little nervous, and looked around the room. 'You really want to do that? I mean, I'm not sure if I want Kaotica knowing about me at all. Word could get back. They aint pretty in how they treat people at times.'
'I'll be discreet,' replied Alf.
'He's good at that,' commented Haylie, nodding.
'Sure,' replied the whore. 'Fine. Archibald's fitness establishment for fine young men. Out in Styxville.'
'I know the city,' replied Alf. 'Hang around the place, does he?'
'He's a regular,' replied the whore. 'It's a front for money laundering from shady activities, but the coppers mostly leave them alone. Drug use is not targeted much anymore. To each their own is the prevailing philosophy these days.'
'Distinguishing features?' asked Alf.
'He nearly always wears a red suit,' said the whore. 'And a moustache. Black. Good looking somewhat, in a sleazy kind of way. Slick I call him. You can't miss him. He stands out like a bug on your windscreen.'
Alf turned to Haylie. 'This weekend. We'll try the place. Evening.' He turned to the whore. 'I'm assuming they have gambling and drinking and so on?'
'It's known for that. They're legal. A bar upstairs, and a few ladies as well. I work there from time to time. Rodrigo is around most nights. It's his usual haunt.'
'Will check it out,' replied Alf. He passed her an envelope with some cash.
'Keep it,' she replied. 'Haylie is a sister to me. Don't need it much anyway.'
Alf nodded, and took back the envelope. 'I'll dress in pastel,' said Alf. 'Traditional gay shit, and I'll put on male perfume. Pass off as old fruit.'
'I see nothing has changed then,' replied Haylie. Alf just gave her one of those looks in response.
'Rodrigo, right?' queried Alf.
The man in the red suit turned to the gent next to him at the bar. 'Amigo. Nice suit. It suits you.'
'Thanks,' replied Alf. 'I've heard on the grapevine you have contacts who can aid me in some dirty deeds done dirt cheap.'
Rodrigo looked Alf up and down, and returned his focus to his drink. 'No idea what you are talking about hombre. I'm clean. Always have been, always will be.'
'Need some work done. Competitors in industry. Need some dustbins turned over on their storefronts, and a tire or two slashed. Minor stuff, but I don't want to be traced. Need it done on the quiet like.'
Rodrigo turned and looked at his new acquaintance. 'What kind of villain do you take me for? I'm legit.'
'The pay is good. You'll get your cut. 100,000 credits for yourself, and double for the organisation I have heard about.'
Rodrigo looked at Alf once more, and sipped on his drink. 'That's a lot of money hombre. You wearing a wire or something? Entrapment is hardly legal.'
'I'm on the level,' replied Alf. He softened his voice. 'Kaotica, apparently. They can handle this sort of stuff. Is that a problem?'
Rodrigo's eyes lit up for a moment, then he returned his gaze to the bar. 'Don't have any connections with them,' he said. 'Not my scene. Bad reputation. I'm not that corrupt.'
'Then you know anyone else who can help?' asked Alf.
Rodrigo turned and looked at Alf again. 'Ok. Yes, I know Kaotica. They can probably handle your task.' He took out a card and handed it to Alf. 'Mail me at this address with the details, and send the cash later on in security post. I'll forward on the payment to where it needs to go.'
'Sounds brill,' said Alf. 'Ta mate. Now I'll have a gin and tonic,' he said to the bartender. He drank it down, nodded to Rodrigo, who nodded back hesitantly, and retreated from Archibald's fitness establishment upper bar. Work done.
* * * * *
'Now, vodka breath, keep the damn drone back far enough this time. I'm sure he was sus to something last time,' said Alf.
'Yeh, yeh. Cool it daddy o,' replied Haylie.
They had first used the remote control drone from a distance to monitor Rodrigo's place. When he collected the mail the drone had been at a distance, surveying him, but he had turned and looked in the direction of the drone, apparently looking at it. But he'd retreated back inside, and nothing more had come of it. Now he was out again 2 days later, and in a red car, headed cross Styxville. Haylie kept the fast flying drone at a distance, working with the keyboard on their PC to follow, this time at a far safer distance. 10 minutes later the Rodrigo had pulled up at a warehouse in the industrial district of Styxville, and had his briefcase still with him.
'The address?' queried Alf. Haylie hit a few keys on Google Realm, and it came up 17 Hatchet Road, Styxville.
'17 Hatchet road,' quipped Haylie.
'Appropriate,' said Alf.
They waited and Rodrigo soon reappeared, and got back into his car, briefcase with him still.
'Let him go,' said Alf. 'Zero in on the warehouse. Find a window or something.' Haylie did as told, and soon the drones camera was viewing the inside of a rather spartan looking website. Inside was a large training mat, a gym of sorts, with a couple of men in red in martial arts activity with each other.
'That's them. Standard Kaotica garb,' said Alf. 'Now bring the sucker home.'
As Haylie hit the 'Return Home' key, she turned to Alf. 'You gonna have a look? Break in?'
Alf stroked his chin. 'Tomorrow night. Need some gear first. Classic ninja shit.'
'You are kidding, aren't you?' she replied.
'Revenge of the Ninja, bitch. It's in my blood.'
'What? Lambert? That's frikking jewish or something isn't it?'
He looked at her, stunned. 'Fucked if I know,' he replied. 'Thought it was English or Irish or something. No idea. Possibly French. Anyway, tomorrow we shop, and then you follow me with the drone, staying in the van at a distance. Don't come following me in sweet cheeks. I can handle myself.'
'I'll bet,' she replied.
'Looks like we're making progress. I'll let Langdon know the case is proceeding.'
Haylie smiled. 'I will admit. You seem to know your stuff Alf Lambert. You seem to know your stuff.'
Alf smiled. 'Thanks Hayles. Does this mean I get lucky tonight?'
She kissed him on the cheek, and returned her focus to the screen. 'The drone should be back shortly. I'll order pizza for a change. You've done well. You also might get a blow job if you are lucky.'
Alf grinned. A night to remember indeed.
Alf Lambert now resided in Terraphona City in the heart of Terraphora, the second disc of the Realm of Eternity. The official capital building was Terraphon Keep, administered by the Archangel Gabriel himself. Terraphona City was much larger than Zaphona City in the heart of the central disc of the Realm, with a far larger population. Trillions of angels and humans lived in Terraphona City, and Israel as a people had their official temple universally located in Terraphona City. There was a Jewish section of the city, billions of Jews resided, and the Temple was the centre of much of Israel's attention universally. Sacrifice took place, and the ancient relics of the first earth temple were used there. The Menorah, the candlestick, was fundamental to business, as it were, and a missing menorah was not a good thing. Catholicism had been hired to track it down. Kaotica had confessed to the deed, but they were not always easy to track down, unless you knew people who knew people, and cracking one hideout of Kaotica did not necessarily lead to the next one, as they kept separate communities, with little contact with the other chapters to keep the organisation afloat. That much was on Alf's mind as he, dressed in black, torchlight on, rifled through a filing cabinet in the office section of the Kaotica Warehouse of Styxville. Styxville was a moderate city, north of Terraphona City, and it was no great surprise to find Kaotica resident here either. They likely had branches everywhere. He doubted severely he would find any hidden Menorah here, and had given the place a quick look over to ensure that, so was no going through the office, the lock of which he had jimmied open, to see if he could find anything leading to other chapters.
'How is it going kemosabe?' queried Haylie, through the headset he had on.
'Nothing, yet. Don't think I'll find anything either. Just basic accounting documents of the business front they maintain. Hang on a sec, what's this?'
Alf examined a slip of paper at the back of a file, an innocuous looking thing, which had an address, and the Kaotica symbol drawn in pencil above it.
'Shit!' he exclaimed. 'They might have slipped up.'
'What gives?' asked Haylie.
'I think they might have fucked themselves. I've got an address, which appears to be a Kaotica chapter. And it's in Terraphona City.'
'Bingo dude,' said Haylie.
Alf crumpled up the paper, and shoved it into his jocks, and closed the filing cabinet. He retreated out the office, and was coming down the stairs, when his legs were suddenly yanked from him, and he collapsed down the stairs. 'FUCK!' he yelled, and blanked out.
He came to, he did not know how much later, tied up, sitting in a chair. Lights were dimly lit, and two men in red Kaotica costumes, seemed to be arguing.
'This is not fucking cool,' he said to himself. After a while one of the men came up to him.
'What the hell are you doing breaking in here? This is private property. We can report you to the police.'
Alf came up with a story. Quick. 'Fuck, I'm a thief ok. Looking for cash. Found fuck all, as you can see. Call the fricking cops if you must.'
The man, who was asian looking, swore in Chinese or something, and went back to arguing with the other man. He eventually returned to Alf.
'I am going to untie you. Don't make any sudden moves.' The man proceeded to untie Alf, and soon he was sitting there before the two men, who were glaring at him grimly.
'Did you find anything?' the other man asked him.
'What the fuck would I find? There wasn't any fricking cash.'
The other man turned to the Asian man. 'Search him. Thoroughly.'
The asian man motioned to Alf to stand, and proceeded to go through all his clothing. 'Drop the pants,' said the man.
'Kinky, are you?' asked Alf. 'I like that.'
'Drop them,' repeated the man, firmly. Alf complied.
'You'll forgive me if I am sensitive about my privates, won't you?' asked Alf.
The men looked at each other, and the Asian man signalled that Alf could pull his pants back up.
'Over to the door,' said the Asian man. Alf obeyed. A button was pressed and the electric door slowly rose open.
'Listen, friend,' said the Asian man. 'Don't fuck with us again. It won't be pretty next time. Look elsewhere for your pathetic attempts at criminality.'
Alf nodded, a little surprised, and, tentatively, walked off. He was waiting with every step for a shot or something, but all he heard was the door close. He made his way out of the warehouse grounds, down the street, and found the Van. He knocked on the door, and Haylie was frantic.
'What the fuck happened?' she asked him.
'They caught me. But they let me go.'
'The address?' she asked.
Alf reached into his unsearched jocks, and pulled out a rather slimy looking sweat covered piece of paper.
'Ooh, gross,' said Haylie.
'The address is still legible,' so don't sweat it,' he replied.
'No. You did enough of that already,' she said, cheekily.
'Let's head home,' he said. 'I'm not sure they even knew about the paper. Probably forgotten. I think we're in the clear.'
'So next step, down town Terraphona City?' queried Haylie.
'Something like that,' replied Alf, and switched on the radio to old time rock and roll, and crooned along to Elvis, as they made their way through the night sky back to Terraphona City.
'In the early days,' began Cherubim Daniel Thomas Andrew Daly. 'Israel lent to nations, but did not borrow itself. This is Torah law. However God was just and fair towards mankind. If Israel sinned to greatly, and ultimately went into exile, the gentiles of the world would even rule the holy land, and they would lend to Israel, and be the head then, and Israel would be the tail. But, in the end, Israel usually prospered in the long term over mankind as they had developed legal Torah with God for themselves. The Tanakh was the official canon of scripture registered with God for legal life practice. It was honoured. Mankind honoured it then. We still honour it today. I remain Karaite in faith. Now I was the chief instigator of creating a legal response of scripture for mankind too God. My Rainbow Bibles, Videos, and other writings and works, were submitted to God through prayer and at places on the Internet, and became legal submission for the status of scripture. Mankind had done a huge amount of religious and legal teaching before I did anything but, in the end, it was never legal. In they end they did not legally follow the official religion for mankind from God. That was the scripturally based Noahide faith, which was the Rainbow Torah, the book of Genesis from chapter 1 to chapter 11 verse 9. I DID observe this legally. I did NOT follow the Talmudic Noahide faith which was not technically historically correct. It did not legally qualify. All that information became the legal basis of mankind's religious standing with God. And I worked long and hard for many years to develop the religion, so mankind prospered above and beyond Israel at a level the jews could never reach again. They diminished, we became the real and substantive head of religion amongst the covenant communities, and our wealth, power, position and authority since then never ceased to grow. It had to be formed on an impartial spirit on legal issues, essentially justice, mercy and proper conduct, with no axe to grind. Earning greater glory was permitted, and that was done through genuine and honest effort to prepare moral knowledge. The more of that achieved the more acceptable became our stance with God. God taught me that I was allowed to push mankind, if I so choose, and thus I suffered spiritual attacks and depressions and many a dark day because of this in the work which I undertook. The suffering was long and hard, but the reward was earned fairly because of it. And thus, on the issue of homos, the Rainbow Parade addressed this issue legally satisfactorily enough for God, so that we were not required to be as strict towards bent people as Israel was as I had formed decent redemptive codes of behaviour for these as well as other communities. Things were addressed satisfactorily enough as far as God was concerned. So, Alf, to answer your question, why were you as an obvious abomination to God, not sorted out and done away with years ago, the answer is that you had spiritual rights for being a citizen of mankind legally, being uncircumcised and not part of any notable continuing Jewish community. Further, Jewish members of society which had a great degree of Noahide blood within them afforded differing degrees of spiritual rights with the covenant code, and it appears you may have been affected by this, by what Haylie spoke to me earlier of.'
'No frikking idea on that shit,' replied Alf, looking at the empty spot in the temple were the Menorah was supposed to stand. 'Anyway, Dan, tonight's the night we strike. 5 of us, dressed in black, to the Kaotica training ground. The Menorah seems to be clearly located, from what we have found out from our investigations in the branch chapter we looked into, at their private training ground on the east of the city. Drone surveillance suggests the compound at the back, inside somewhere. There are a couple of guards, and we have no legal proof it is there yet, so it's hush hush. We do this like they did to us – nice and quiet like.'
'I have my ninja outfit ready,' replied the Cherubim angel. 'Living a little is fun at times. Looking forward to it.'
'It'll be a blast,' replied Alf.
* * * * *
It was the night, and Alf was in an amorous mood. He had his black ninja sweater already on, and was prancing around the house, making lame 'Cato' from the Pink Panther jokes.
'You are not frikking Cato,' said Haylie, shaking her head.
Alf tossed a cricket bat at her, and held up his wooden baseball bat. 'Attack me English bitch,' he mocked, in a very bad Chinese accent.
'Inspector Cluseau is a frikking Frenchie,' replied Haylie, looking at the bat.
'Master, Mr Sellers was a pommie bastard. We are the real thing,' replied Alf, baseball bat ready in the air.
'I should use this damn thing,' said Haylie. 'Knock some sense into you. But I'll give you a break tonight. Tonight we get down and dirty with Kaotica.'
'Master has gone soft. All these years fighting crime has gotten to him. He has become the dark side of the force himself,' mocked Alf, again in a very dodgy Chinese accent.
Haylie turned and faced the computer screen. Their drone was hovering above the Kaotica compound, focusing on the activity.
'Quiet night there, by the looks of it. Not sure if you guys will have too much trouble. Consider the tranq darts again is my advice. Take out the guards from a distance, go in, locate and retrieve the candlestic, and be gone before the cock crows.'
'It is cock you want then is it master,' said Alf, and proceeded to undo his pants. Haylie watched the show. Soon Alf had his phallus out, stroked it for a few seconds, and it stood hard at attention. 'Does master want to alleviate his servant's suffering?'
'Tempted,' replied Haylie. 'Complete the job and I'll think about your treat.'
Alf returned his phallus to his pants, and came and sat next to her at the terminal. 'Tranq darts are too easy,' replied Alf. 'Tonight is more about style than simply getting the job done. We want an adventure to write home about. Cherubim Daniel Thomas Andrew Daly, Seraphim Ambriel, and two other minor ring ins are handling the work with myself. This has to be done traditional style, you see. We knock the fuckers on the back of the head to turn them unconscious. Severe concussion is all they'll get in the end. Old fashioned ways of dealing with the shit.'
'They are Kaotica,' replied Haylie. 'They are trained to deal with monkey's like you guys.'
'Don't underestimate the power of grasshopper,' replied Alf, again in a dodgy Chinese accent. 'He might surprise you yet.'
'In your dreams,' said Haylie, focusing on the screen.
'We strike at Midnight, precisely,' said Alf. 'The others will be here at 11 sharp, then off we go. It should take us about 45 minutes to get there, traffic is not too bad at this time of night in the route we will be travelling.'
'Good luck,' she said, looking at him, with something approaching admiration in her eyes.
Alf smiled at her, put his hands together in a traditional prayer stance, and bowed to her. 'Yes my master.'
'Very funny,' she said. 'Don't get yourself killed buster. Be careful.'
'I'll be careful,' said Alf. 'Now get ready bitch. Your ass is grass,' said Alf, and burnished the baseball bat Cato style once more, to which Haylie could only shake her head and laugh.
'Red One to Blue Fox. Do you read me?' said Daniel into his headset.
'I'm standing right here bro,' replied Ambriel, who was in fact standing right next to Cherubim Daniel Thomas Andrew Daly.
'Hearing you loud and clear Blue Fox. We have this sitch well in hand it appears,' replied Daniel.
'Why the hell am I Blue Fox? I mean, why not Gold Hawk or Black Dragon or something cooler. Blue Fox?' asked Ambriel.
'It's not that bad,' said Alf. 'I'm Dodgy Detergent. Fucking wonderful code name.'
Cherubim Daniel smiled. 'Your clothes stink a bit. Must be the washing powder.'
'Outfit has been used a bit recently,' replied Alf. 'Haven't gotten around to getting it cleaned yet.'
The two other team members were on point ahead of them, and had taken out the three guards so far, doing the serious work. They were professionals from an undisclosed Realm authority. They signalled to Daniel, Ambriel and Alf to proceed.
'And Red One? Why the hell are you Red One?' asked Ambriel.
'One of my favourite comics from Image. Hot Russian bitch,' replied Daniel.
'Your into Russian bitches?' asked Alf, as they walked slowly towards the buildings at the back of the compound.
'Occasionally I've known a Russky girl or two,' replied Daniel. 'Seraphim Radrukiel has some lovely grand-daughters who I've been friendly with on rare occasions.'
'They are beauties,' replied Ambriel. 'I'll give you that much.'
Ahead of them the two other operatives had scouted ahead, and were cutting through bolts on a door of a likely looking compound building.
'I knew this Russian chick once,' said Alf. 'She was blonde and had severe acne on her chin. Quite horrific really. She'd get it treated, but it returned regularly. She said it was genetic, but I noticed she ate a lot of junk food, so go figure.'
'Yeh, you gotta cut down on the crap in the end,' replied Daniel. 'Pizza faces are not much fun.'
'They've gotten in,' said Ambriel, as the three of them looked around for signs of any other guards, and approached the building.
'Blue Fox is a very respected code name in various strategy websites I roleplay on,' said Daniel. 'It's not me, and I do know who it is. He plays very cautiously, conservatively practically, but is very difficult to defeat as the games reach conclusion. You've been named in honour of a legend, Ambriel.'
'Fine, then,' replied the Seraphim. He took out a cigarette, which he rarely smoked, and lit up. 'Looks like we're in buddies. Let's check it out.'
The three of them entered into the building were the two other operatives had already entered, and looked around. The two other operatives were further down a long hallway, torchlights on, looking in various offices.
'There is a larger room at the end of the hallway,' said Alf. 'Building structures from the exterior seems to indicate this. I suggest we let the other two do their thing, and go check that out.'
Alf led the way, and they came to the end of the hallway, and carefully opened the door. Inside was a large traditional Kaotica training mat. Over in a corner of the room was an adjacent kitchenette by the looks of it, which had lights on. Suddenly 3 figures, dressed in red, appeared from the kitchenett, noticing their new guests.
'There,' said Alf, pointing to the end wall in front of them. There, on a table, surrounded by burning candles, was the candlestick, which had lit candles on it as well.
'They might be using it for their own purposes then,' said Daniel.
Ambriel looked at his legacy. 'Mmm. Interesting. Kaotica might have a genuine interest in the thing.'
But it was now time for action. The three of them came on to the training mat, and the 3 Kaotica members faced off against each of them.
'This should be fun,' said Alf.
'The whole point of this little jaunt,' said Daniel.
'We can handle them' said Ambriel.
The action began. It was mostly traditional martial arts action, but a few crude blows were delivered by more than one of them, and after a few moments Daniel, Ambriel and Alf were sweating heavily, having had quite a severe work out from the Kaotica dudes.
'This is what we bargained for,' said Alf. 'Best finish it.'
'Wouldn't have it any other way,' said Daniel.
'Have to earn a rep some way,' said Ambriel.
Shortly the three of them were on the ground, the Kaotica members standing over them in triumph.
'We're fucked,' said Alf.
'What a way to go,' said Daniel.
'We had a blast at least,' said Ambriel.<