Tartarus: Kingdom Wars II (14 page)

T
he day following the Barbara Walters special I arrived at the professor’s house for my first lesson with Abdiel and Sue Ling. I didn’t know what to expect. I didn’t excel in these kinds of lessons. I prefer user manuals. Even as a kid, when I wanted to learn to play tennis the first thing I did was run to the library and check out a book. Of course this was different. I doubted the library had a copy of
Nephilim Skills for Dummies.

Sue Ling answered my knock and ushered me into the living room. She was dressed casually in jeans and an oversized SDSU sweatshirt. Behind her, physics books were stacked five and six volumes deep on the coffee table.

“Change of plans. It’ll just be the three of us,” she said.

“The professor won’t be joining us?” I asked.

“What makes you think it’s the professor and not Abdiel who will be absent?”

“Because Abdiel’s already here.”

Sue smiled. “You’ve been practicing.”

Abdiel materialized.

“They told me you could see angels in their spirit form,” he said.

“So this was a test?”

“I wanted to see for myself,” the angel replied.

“Is it second nature to you now?” Sue asked. “You didn’t appear to have to concentrate.”

“Easier, but not second nature.”

“What else can you do?” Abdiel asked.

“I can cook, clean, and fold my own laundry.”

The big angel wasn’t amused. “If you’re not going to take this seriously—”

I stage-whispered to Sue Ling, “I think he’s a Tartaran. No sense of humor.”

“So you watched the program last night?” she said. Then, turning to the angel, “Before we get started, I want to hear what Abdiel has to say about it.”

“A deception,” Abdiel said.

I said, “Can you be a little more specific? Like Sue, I’m anxious to hear your take on the interview.”

“Deception and blasphemy.”

“Abdiel has a way with words, don’t you think?” I said to Sue.

Abdiel had been around me long enough to recognize sarcasm. And fear. The two come packaged together with me. Whenever I’m afraid, I get sarcastic. And having already done battle with angels once, my fear meter was off the chart.

Abdiel elaborated. “The third day’s so-called miracle? The easiest to perform.”

“The resurrection,” Sue said.

“Of course your doctors declared him dead,” Abdiel said. “Angels have no heartbeat. Neither do they have a respiratory system.”

“How about changing water to Dr Pepper?” I asked.

“A manipulation of matter.”

“And the walking on water?” Sue asked.

Abdiel levitated. “Angels don’t sink.”

“And the boy?” I asked.

He studied me for a long moment before answering. “Why do you want to know? Are you still convinced there is good in him?”

“I just want to know how he did it.”

“Healing is more difficult to perform. It requires skill and a knowledge of human anatomy. While it is still a manipulation of matter, it is more delicate. Belial is highly skilled at it.”

Abdiel went on to identify the other rebel angels who appeared on the show masquerading as Jesus’ disciples. He grew angry speaking of them. By the time he was finished, he was stoked to do something to stop them.

Sue instructed us to move the furniture out of the way to give ourselves some room. Abdiel moved to one end of the sofa and bent his knees.

“Can’t you just levitate it out of the way?” I said.

“Put your back into it, slacker,” he replied.

Sue went to the kitchen and got us coffee while we moved.

“Will the professor be joining us?” I asked.

“I told you it would be just the three of us,” Sue answered.

“I thought maybe his absence was part of the hidden-angel test. He’s not ill, is he?”

“He’s in the back room. He said he could contribute more by praying than by sitting out here watching.”

She motioned for me to sit next to her on the sofa. Abdiel stood over us. He appeared to be ready to rap my knuckles with a ruler if I got out of line.

“The thing you need to understand about angels,” Sue said, “is that they are created beings. They can do some amazing things, but they have no magical powers.”

“We cannot perform miracles,” Abdiel said.

“What about the deaf and blind boy?” I asked.

“Answer this for me,” Abdiel replied. “Had a surgeon restored the boy’s sight, would you say the surgeon performed a miracle?”

“Good example, Abdiel,” Sue said. “You see, Grant, we can do many of the same things angels do, only we use tools and machines to do them.”

“What about the miracles of the real Jesus, then? If we can perform the same miracles—”

Abdiel bristled, then restrained himself. He answered my question slowly, clearly, as though he were teaching a child. “The Divine Warrior used physical acts to point to a much greater power. By healing a blind man, He revealed His ability to open men’s eyes spiritually. By healing the lame, He revealed He can make men whole. And by raising the dead, He revealed he could give life eternal. The Divine Warrior alone has the ability to forgive sin and heal the soul and give life.”

Sue nodded her agreement.

“We can only be in one place at one time,” Abdiel said, returning to the lesson plan. “We are strong, but our strength is limited. We cannot read minds. We are not omniscient. For example, we don’t know the future. That is left to the Father alone.”

“The biggest advantage angels have over humans,” Sue said, “is their knowledge of the universe. Having assisted in its construction, they know how everything works on both subatomic and cosmic scales, things we are only now beginning to understand.”

“Lucifer has used this knowledge to torment and deceive humans from the beginning,” Abdiel said, his anger surfacing.

Sue was quick to move on. “Abdiel and I have some demonstrations to show you what we mean.”

She crossed the room and unplugged a lamp. Holding the lamp, she nodded to Abdiel, who puckered his lips and appeared to blow on the lamp at a distance of about seven feet. The lamp lit brightly.

Even though she knew what to expect, Sue stared at the lamp with childlike wonder. “The same thing can be done to any electrical appliance,” she explained. “It’s called witricity—turning sound waves into electricity. It’s the same principle opera singers use to break wineglasses, only this sound is beyond our ability to hear.”

She set the lamp down. Abdiel unpuckered.

“Scientists are currently developing this technology to power cell phones without having to plug them in. It’s basic physics, really.”

“Lucifer’s agents use it to haunt and frighten people,” Abdiel added.

“Here’s another one,” Sue said.

This time there was no object involved. She simply stood facing Abdiel. Apparently they’d prearranged the lesson plan because the angel knew what to do without explanation.

Abdiel spoke to her. She could hear him. I couldn’t.

Nodding that she’d received his message, she approached me and slapped me.

“Ow!”

“Oh, sorry—that was harder than I’d intended.”

“Why did you do that?”

“Abdiel instructed me to do it. Why didn’t you stop me?”

“How was I to know you were going to hit me?”

“Didn’t you hear him? He spoke in a normal voice.”

I rubbed my cheek. “No, I didn’t hear him.”

“Sometimes painful lessons are remembered longer,” Abdiel said.

Was he joking? He did it so infrequently, it was hard to tell.

“Had there been fifty people in the room,” Sue said, “no one would have heard his voice except me. It’s called directive sound. Now Abdiel will give you a message.”

The angel looked at me. “Kiss Sue Ling. You know you want to. You may never get another chance.”

I was beginning to like this demonstration. I turned to Sue, leaned close, and pressed my lips to hers.

She pulled away. Shocked. Then slapped me.

“What are you doing?” she asked.

The big angel smirked with satisfaction.

My cheek stung, but it was worth it.

Frowning at both of us, Sue touched her lips. “Like the witricity, this is basic physics.”

“I thought it was basic biology,” I said.

“I’d appreciate it if you’d keep your mind on the subject,” Sue snapped. “Directive sound is used at the New York Museum. A person steps into a listening zone in front of a display and hears a prerecorded message. Beside him at another display, another person hears a different message. Neither of them disturbs the other.”

“A man in a crowded room hears a voice,” Abdiel said. “He concludes it’s the voice of God. If he does not test the spirits, he may find himself doing Lucifer’s bidding.”

“We have one more demonstration,” Sue said, picking up the television remote. She turned the set on and pressed
PLAY
. A prerecorded program showed a billiard table from an elevated view. The balls were racked. A cue ball struck the racked balls, scattering them across the table.

“Keep watching.” She pressed the
REWIND
button.

The balls reversed course and reassembled themselves into the racked position with the cue ball rolling away.

“You want me to challenge the Joker Jesus to a game of billiards?” I said.

“Pay attention, funny boy,” Sue replied. “Think about what you’ve just seen and apply it to a subatomic level.”

She moved to the coffee table, poured a cup of coffee, dropped a sugar cube into the cup, and stirred. “All right, I want you to reach into the cup and pull out the sugar cube.”

“Now who’s being funny?” I said.

“Can’t do it?” she said. “Watch.”

The coffee was still swirling as Abdiel stuck his finger in the cup and stirred it the opposite direction. The swirl reversed itself. He reached into the cup and pulled out the sugar cube.

“It’s the same principle you saw with the billiard balls, only on a molecular level,” Sue said.

Both she and Abdiel looked at me to see if I understood.

“Impressive,” I said. “Entertaining. But what does this have to do with anything? This is what you’re going to teach me? These are parlor tricks. Do you really think the Joker Jesus—”

“Belial,” Abdiel said.

“All right—do you really think Belial, or Semyaza, or Lucifer is going to be threatened by my pulling sugar cubes from their coffee?”

“I told you this was a waste of time,” Abdiel said. “He is too dull. He has proven that the only way he can learn is by trial and error, and his errors will kill him.”

“Teach me something I can use!” I insisted. “Last night Belial said that riding on a beam of light is the first step to living on a molecular level. That’s something I can use.”

Abdiel moved to the lamp, plugged it in, and turned it on. He looked at me, disappeared, and reappeared instantaneously on the far side of the room.

“Now that’s what I’m talking about!” I said. “Is it difficult?”

“A simple process,” Abdiel said. “Reduce yourself in size, step aboard a quantum of light, then step off when you’ve reached your destination.”

“Like riding an escalator,” I said. “Reduce myself. OK. How do I do that?”

“You can’t.”

“But you just said it was a simple process.”

“It is. For me.”

“OK, maybe it’ll be harder for me because I’m only part angel. Show me how to do it.”

“To what purpose?”

“You’re kidding, right? Speed. Maneuverability. It would give me a fighting chance.”

“There are more efficient ways to propel oneself. You would be outmaneuvered.”

“Then show me the faster way!” I yelled in frustration.

“You’re missing the point, Grant,” Sue said.

“He can’t be taught,” Abdiel said.

“We never intended to teach you how to do these things,” Sue said.

“Then why the show and tell?” I complained. “What are we doing here? Am I the only one who remembers that last time I got caught in the middle of one of Lucifer’s schemes I was nearly converted into a demon condo?”

At my outburst, Sue glanced nervously toward the back of the house where the professor was praying. “Calm down, Grant. We showed you those things so that you could understand who you’re up against.”

“Let me see if I understand. You want me to go up against an enemy who is stronger than me, who can go places I can’t even imagine faster than the speed of light, who can generate electricity with sound, project thoughts into my head, pull sugar cubes from coffee, and, just for kicks, who could operate on my insides without a scalpel.”

“I think he’s got it,” Abdiel said.

“Great.
Now
he gets a sense of humor,” I snapped.