Pantheocide

Chapter Fifty Nine

Lemuel’s Home, Eternal City, Heaven

“Is there any word of Maion yet.” Lemuel paced backwards and forwards, marking the hours as they crawled by. “Time is running out.”

“Don’t sweat it old friend. I told you that I would allow nothing to happen to your beloved.”

“But we have no idea where she is. How can we rescue her when we don’t know where she is.”

Because I do know exactly where she is, dummy. The only real problem is that I can’t tell you that I know where she is so we’re going to have to find out another way. Of course, knowing the answer always helps to solve any problem.

“We find out. We’ve used up all our resources and got nowhere. So, we call on people whose abilities are far beyond ours and who never stop asking questions. As I told you, humans. In particular, somebody who does work for me. Johann Carl Friedrich Gauss.”

“He is a great warrior?” Lemuel didn’t sound that hopeful.

“No, he keeps my household books in order.”

“A book-keeper. Michael, we don’t have time for your jokes.”

“Yes, my book-keeper and arguably the greatest mathematician who ever lived. That’s what we need now.” Michael-Lan stopped and raised his voice. “Johann? Have you got all the information you need.”

The human who came in was an inoffensive-looking man struggling with a great pile of scrolls. He barely made it to a table before losing his grip on them and sending them cascading over the floor. Looking at the chaos he sighed, muttered some words under his breath and started to gather them all up again. Watching the display, Lemuel nearly burst into tears. Then, the human peered owlishly at Michael. “I have everything I need, yes. All these maps, the Eternal City is so much larger than I thought. But I have them all.”

“So, where is Maion likely to be held?” Michael-Lan was entranced, he’d always thought Gauss was a humorless old stick but the man was putting on a spectacular display of eccentricity.

“Maion. Maion? Oh yes, the angel who disappeared.” He started scrambling through the scrolls again. “Here we are, she vanished from here did she not? Ah yes, the sight of an earlier bombing, that is very important. It allows us to use recursive analysis you see, with an asymptotic expansion to truncate the series. Now, any real number is said to be computable when there is a computable sequence converges effectively to it. So, with the abduction taking place at the same point as the bombing, we have our convergence point. This is very fortunate for a coincidence of position between these two coordinates allows us to modulate any desired level of accuracy. You follow me so far?”

Michael-Lan kept quiet, but Lemuel charged in with colors flying. “I follow you, yes.”

“Well, you will understand than that a recursive natural number has an inherent error function that indicates exactly how far through the sequence of data we must progress in order to guarantee that the sequence has converged with the desired level of precision. Now, all the bombings over the last few weeks give us an exemplary data set. I assume that you realize that any real number which happens to be rational is, on this definition, straightforwardly computable, but not every computable real need be rational? And from this it follows naturally that by plotting the positions of the bombings, we can calculate the convergence point at which the command facility must be located.”

“Of course.” Lemuel tried to stop his eyes rotating in circles while the mathematical theory flowed around him.

“Very well then. Intuitively, a real number is computable if it can be approximated to an arbitrary degree of accuracy by an algorithmic method. By doing so, we create a series of paralexic synchronizations that define the intersection of the calculus and geometry of the statistical universe. Within those amphibolic subluxations, the set of all computable real and definable locations are intimately related to a set of rational conclusions that are, of course only denumerably infinite, while the set of all real locations is uncountably infinite. Since all real locations are either computable or noncomputable, this means that ‘most’ locations are noncomputable and can therefore be discarded from the calculations. Thus eliminating the noncomputable from the denumerably infinite we are left with only the computably rational. In fact, as is always the case with such non-metachorindal data sets, there is only one possible location that fits both the statistical universe and the paralexic homeomorphism. The young angel must, mathematically, be here.” Gauss put his finger decisively on one of the scrolls, exactly where Michael had told him to put it.

“Right, now we can get moving. Lemuel, go to the Headquarters of the League of Holy Court and assemble a strike team.” Michael watched Lemuel-Lan vanish through the doors on his mission of mercy. Then he turned to Gauss who was picking up the scrolls. “Johan, I’ve got to ask. How much of that little speech made any kind of sense?”

Gauss’s eyes twinkled. “Michael-Lan, it wasn’t just nonsense, it was demented nonsense. It sounded good though, yes?”

“Very good. I owe you for this.”

“No, Michael-Lan, It is still I who owe you a great debt. It was you who made it possible for me to make peace with my estranged son.”

Outside the Headquarters of The League of Divine Justice, Eternal City, Heaven

“Does everybody know what to do?” Lemuel passed word around the group in a theatrical whisper.

At this point Michael-Lan really wished he could have brought a human SWAT team up for this job, working with professionals made everything so much easier. Still he was stuck with angels and it just had to be that way. This was what made the whole plan so risky, there were so many points where things were the way they were because that was how they had to be. It was why he had to place himself at the center of things, time after time. Angels were unimaginative, set in their ways. Our enduring assumption that we are right because we are angels and angels are always right is probably our greatest single weakness. We just couldn’t adapt easily to changing circumstances. Thank you for that Yah-Yah, thanks to your assumption of infallibility, I doubt if we can adapt to the coming defeat as well as the daemons down in hell did.

The focussed trumpet blast from the assembled angelic assault group shattered the wall that surrounded the old temple that the League of Divine Justice used as its headquarters. The one I told them to use as their headquarters anway Michael thought to himself. He sensed the angels around him had already gathered their power and shaded his eyes as a blinding glare of the purest white light shone from them. Then, while the guards in the ruined temple were still disorientated by the trumpet blast and blinded by the glare, they stormed across the narrow gap and climbed the destroyed wall.

Michael-Lan quickly assessed the situation and came to the conclusion it was safe to do so before heroically hurling himself into the fray. Lemuel was engaged in a sword fight with a half-blinded member of the group. Michael recognized him as Qaphsiel-Lan-Shekinah and concluded he had probably been checking the guard when the attack had started. Worse luck for him although any chance that he might survive this night was already on the outer edges of utterly implausible. Qaphsiel caught sight of Michael and managed to gasp out “Mighty General…” before Michael’s sword, fully charged with all the energy he could muster sliced deep into him. As it did so, the sword discharged and Qaphsiel glowed briefly with the intense white light that was characteristic of the Angelic Host before he died.

“Come on, old friend, you must be slipping. Made a bit heavy weather of that one didn’t you?” Michael caught Lemuel by the arm and made a great show of quickly steadying him. “This is just like old times isn’t it?” Michael made sure his voice was a properly enthusiastic roar while he quietly thought to himself I always made a point of being at the head of the charge back then. How could I have been so stupid?

Another of the late Qaphsiel’s men was trying to escape through the shattered gates. Michael ran over to him and struck him a mighty blow that severed his body from the neck to the groin. No need for a charged sword on that one. Edged steel was perfectly adequate. He took a look around him and saw that the assault team was already penetrating the inner sanctum of the ruined temple. It was time to encourage them onwards so he followed them over, hanging back just long enough to make sure that the last of the angels outside the building was cut down and killed before he reached the front ranks. The door was shuddering under the blows. It caved in and Michael, this time, really did lead the charge inside. There are times to lead and times to follow he thought to himself and now it really is time to lead the charge. A hashmallim angel was in his way and Michael parried his thrust, the sparks showering from his fully-charged sword as it clashed with his opponents. The parry was strong beyond the hashmallim’s ability to counter and his sword went flying across the room. Michael struck him down, feeling the steel edge bite deep and the energy flow from the sword into his victim’s body. With his recuperation system shocked and disrupted by the energy influx, the hashmallim fell and died.

Onniel’s Prison Cell, The Headquarters of The League of Divine Justice, Eternal City, Heaven

Onniel had no idea of how many days she had been held prisoner in the awful place. She had been snatched from the street while she had been searching for somewhere to live. Then all her possessions had been taken from her and she had been thrown naked into the terrible cell. She had sat there in absolute darkness and complete silence, alone and apparently forgotten by everybody. After a while the silence had appeared to vanish and she started to hear quiet, gentle noises. A rushing sound, the beating of a drum, a strange creaking that would never quite end. After a while, to her horror, she realized that she was hearing the sounds of her own body, the noise of her breathing, the beating of her own heart and the creaking of her bones and joints. As she sat in the silent blackness of her cell, her mind shrank away from the nightmare that had engulfed her and retreated deep inside herself.

There, it remained when the silence was broken by crashes and the screams of the dying. Without any warning, the door to her cell was thrown open and a brilliant light flooded the darkness. Amongst other things, it completely blinded her. Eyes that had spent days in total darkness couldn’t accommodate even the diffuse light of a heavenly night. Onniel found herself being picked up, dragged to her feet and a robe draped around her. From its feel, it was of the finest quality, smooth, soft and light. A voice whispered in her ear, it was a whisper although to ears accustomed to complete silence, it was a deafening boom. “When I prod you, just say. ‘That’s her, that’s the bitch, by the command of He Who Must Be Obeyed, take her away for punishment.’ That and no more.” The whisper ended and Onniel was dragged from her cell.

Maion’s Prison Cell, The Headquarters of The League of Divine Justice, Eternal City, Heaven

Maion’s terror had subsided during the hours she had been held in her cell. The blackness had lasted for only a few moments before light was restored. After that, whoever had snatched her from the street had been very nice to her. They had spoken to her through the door, when she had asked for water they had brought her some. They had even asked her what she would like to eat and they had brought what she had chosen. She guessed she was being held as some kind of hostage and rationalized that she was being well-treated so her value would be greater.

Then, the sounds of fighting had erupted outside and she had moved away from the door. That had proved to be a wise decision for the door had exploded open, fragments from its wood lancing across the room. Two angels, Erelim she guessed, were standing there. “The Lady Maion-Lan-Lemuel-Lan-Michael?” The question was obvious.

“I am. Have you come to rescue me?” Maion was secretly pleased by the respectful address.

“By order of Lemuel-Lan-Michael and the Great General Michael-Lan himself, we are. I am Ephom-Lan-Sezotah. Please come with us.”

“Thank you, just, thank you.” The Erelim smiled at her and led her from the cell. “Are Michael and Lemuel here?”

“They are, but they are involved in mopping up the last shreds of resistance. Michael-Lan himself led the charge into this building you know.” The Erelim’s voice was full of respect for Heaven’s great general whose gallantry was known to all just as his generosity with human contraband was known to comparatively few.

Then around the corner came a group of Erelim, clustered around a woman, one finely dressed and obviously of great importance by the way they appeared to defer to her. To Maion’s horror she recognized Onniel, ex-Wife of Lemuel-Lan. Onniel strode imperiously amongst her guard, then stopped and gasped. “‘That’s her, that’s the bitch, by the command of He Who Must Be Obeyed, take her away for punishment.”

One of the Erelim escorting Onniel moved forward. “I am Abszin-Lan-Azrael. By Order of the Great Father Of Us All, I command you to yield Maion to our custody.”

“I am sorry Lady Maion. Ordered in the name of The Most High, I have no option but to obey. Please go with them but be sure, I will tell Michael of this and he will see to your safety.”

Maion stepped forward and the guards seized her, hustling her and Onniel out of the building. Behind her, Ephom shook his head sadly and went to find Michael and Lemuel.

He met them coming the other way down the corridor. Both were stained with the white and silver blood of the angels who had been in the building. There were no survivors from the League of Divine Justice, Michael’s private orders had been very specific on that point. Ephom knew that the members of the League here had been told that if they didn’t fight too hard, they would simply be detained and released. But, they had all committed a capital crime, they knew too much and since they were not part of the core conspiracy, they would have to go. By the time they had realized they were fighting for their lives, they had already lost them.

“Ephom-Lan.” Michael’s voice was tired but exultant. “have we found Maion yet?”

“Yes, Mighty General. Maion was safe and well. But a group of The One Above All’s guards arrived with Onniel. She ordered them to take Maion into custody and they did so, in the Name of He Who Must Be Obeyed. Onniel was dressed in fine robes and ornate with jewelry. When she spoke, the guards treated her with great deference and obeyed her in every respect.”

“Why did they take her away?” Lemuel’s voice was agonized.

“They did not say. Only Onniel spoke and she said that Maion was to be punished for her crimes. I know of no such crimes, Greatest of Heaven’s Generals.”

“Perhaps she has committed the most serious crime of all.” Michael spoke with solemn gravity. “She may have offended one upon whom The Great Father Of Us All smiles.” Inside, Michael-Lan was exultant. My little play had gone off to perfection. Ephom-Lan and Abszi-Lan have performed correctly and now it seems to everybody not in on what really happened here that Onniel has caused Yahweh’s guards to take Maion away for some unspecified punishment. We’ve even managed to get Azrael implicated and linked to Yahweh.

“Michael-Lan, was everything we have done here for nothing?”

“Of course not old friend. Maion is out of the hands of these brutal terrorists and safely in the hands of He Who Shall Not Be Named. There she will be safe for who can doubt the everlasting mercy of His Peerless Self You, for a start, by the time this game is finished. “Once we have cleared up here, we will go back home and I will inquire at The League of Holy Court. They will tell me where Maion has been taken and we will rescue her from her plight. I fear Onniel was a more spiteful and vindictive ex-wife than you realized old friend.” And if she is, then it will make her fate even more deserved. By now she will be dead and her body will never be found.

Michael wrapped his wing comfortingly around Lemuel’s shoulder. “Come, old friend, we can leave the final work to our comrades here. We have our wounded to care for and Maion to find. It’s time for home.”