The Redeemer (3 page)
“Gabriel! Hello.” I stepped forward and waved.
Satan stepped on my tail and jerked my wing.
“Stay still and shut up!”
“Sorry, sir.” I slunk back.
“Lucifer, fallen son of the light.” Gabriel’s voice was like thunder.
“What do you want?” Satan tried to appear annoyed, but his swishing tail said he was nervous. “You’re in my territory.”
“I bring you a message from I AM, one that will be good news to all mankind.”
“Then why are you telling me?”
“Guess what it means for you.”
Every demon took another step back.
“Wha–what is it?” Satan stammered.
The angel’s eyes narrowed as he answered.
“Game on.”
S
TOP HIM, DO
you hear me?” Satan grabbed Baal by the neck and seethed into his face. “Stop him at any cost. Do you hear me?”
The dead could have heard him, he was yelling so loudly. We were gathered back in his throne room watching Satan spew anger and terror at the same time. Even the archdemon gods backed away in fear of him. Baal struggled until he broke free from Satan’s grip. He rubbed his throat to loosen his squashed vocal cords and spat out a few words.
“Stop who, master?”
“Imbecile!” Satan pushed Baal aside. “Don’t you see what’s happening?”
I examined their blank faces. No. In fact, not a single one of the demons had the faintest idea what was occurring. I wasn’t expecting Satan to turn to me to instruct them.
“They’re simple-minded idiots. Explain it to them.” He stomped over to his throne and sat down.
“Uh, well,” I stammered as every evil eye flamed with resentment at me. “Let’s see, what do we know?” I pulled a flip chart out of the briefing area to the middle of the room and prepared to write a few things down. “Can everyone see?”
No answer.
“OK then, let’s start. Number one: legions of angels appeared in the sky over the earth and sang a song. Now we all saw that, right?”
No answer.
“Right, so moving on. Number two: a baby with a promising political career has been born somewhere in Bethlehem.”
No acknowledgment of any kind.
“Number three: Gabriel made a surprise visit and issued some sort of challenge to Satan.”
Their eyes glimmered with things they wished they could say but didn’t dare.
“Last point and most important: Adonai is missing from the third heaven. However, it is unlikely His disappearance is related to the other events.”
Baal was still breathing hard as he tried to reengage Satan.
“The army of angels is gone, master. I admit I overreacted when I saw them; I thought they were lining up for a full assault. Anyway, it’s over now.”
“Over? It’s not close to over!” Satan yelled at him with such a blast that Baal flipped over the footstool and landed on his backside. I pretended not to notice as the others bit their tongues and tried not to snicker.
“Master, may I offer a perspective?” I tried to sound conciliatory.
The last thing I wanted to do was get between Satan’s wrath and his demonic horde. But I was always afraid that war could break out again. If it happened in the third heaven, what was to stop it in the second heaven? I had to try to diffuse the tension if I could.
“Your Worship,” I kept my voice low, “they don’t know about the Promised One. You never told them about the vow God made to David.”
“They should have figured it out.”
“They are not as wise as you, O Sovereign One.”
“It’s lonely at the top.”
“Don’t I know it, sir.”
“Tell them about it. They have to stop Him from coming.”
“That’s sort of the problem, sir. They can’t stop it if the Redeemer has already been born.”
“What are you telling me?” Baal had been listening the whole time. Satan nodded at me, and I knew I was to try to explain.
“Before David died,” I began, “God promised him an heir who would sit on his throne forever, and this heir would be the one to redeem His people, the Messiah. Whenever you hear the Jews speak about the end of the age, that’s what they’re talking about—the coming of the anointed one.”
“How do you know the Messiah is
this
baby?” asked Baal.
“Ten thousand angels singing the birth announcement would be a clue.”
“So what?” Baal said as dismissively as possible. “Others have tried to redeem the Jews. I say we can handle Him, especially if He’s just a baby.”
“Is that so?” Satan stared at Baal.
“My lord, how many thousands of Hebrew babies have we killed before? What’s one more? Say the word, and I’ll make it happen. No worries.”
“Worried? I don’t know the meaning of the word.” Satan thumped his chest and looked at the standing horde. “I was testing you to see who could figure out what to do. All of you failed except Baal.” He grinned at Baal, who, unaccustomed to being grinned at by the prince of darkness, swelled up like a balloon at a birthday party. “Make it so.” Satan thumped Baal on his backside to deflate him.
The demons started leaving as if everything were decided, which I knew was not the case. I almost let it go but couldn’t. I had to know if Baal had a plan. I had too much at risk if the Redeemer had been born. If Baal killed him, my only chance to escape from Satan would be over.
“Sir.” I gently tugged on Satan’s cape. “I know you’ve figured it out, but you know how slow the rest of us are. Perhaps Baal could tell us
how
he plans to kill the baby.”
Baal shot me an annoyed look, but Satan was interested.
“I don’t need to be told anything. I already know what plan will work; I always know.” He motioned to Baal. “Go ahead, tell the rest of them.”
“Right, well, the first thing—” Baal looked suspiciously around the room as he tried to concoct a story to which he obviously hadn’t given any thought. “The thing is, my lord, I don’t think we should make our plan public just yet.”
“Why not?”
“Spies. You can never be too careful, sir.”
“I command complete loyalty. No one here would dare be a spy against me.”
“That may be, sir”—Baal turned his head my direction—“but it’s widely reported that one of your lesser servants is known to have affection for the Jews.”
Every set of yellow eyes turned on me. I tired to protest but couldn’t muster anything beyond a faint cough.
“You mean moron, here?” Satan laughed. “I send him to watch the Jews, but so what? He can’t communicate with them, and if he could, what Jew would ever take him seriously?” Everybody laughed because Satan does not like laughing alone. I managed to conjure up a grin to be on the safe side and decided not to point out how my question had been completely ignored. “Now, go. Get it done.”
Baal bowed, signaled his soldiers, and off they went toward the earth. I returned to my perch to watch the light that still hung over Bethlehem. It wasn’t until I felt him exhale down the back of my neck that I realized Satan had followed me. He made me so nervous I didn’t know what to do, so I held my breath and waited for him to speak.
“You think it’s Him, don’t you?” Satan asked.
“I don’t know, sir. It’s been such a long time. Maybe God has forgotten all about it. I could go down and check Him out if you want.”
I was so hoping he would send me off right then. I was desperate to find the baby to see if He was the Redeemer. If it was David’s son, I’d have to find some way to protect him from Baal.
“No need. It’s Him all right; otherwise the angels wouldn’t have been dispatched. I’m not worried. Baal will take care of Him.”
Think of something. I have to get down there.
“Sir, I know how modest you are about your brilliance, but you must accept that neither Baal nor any other of your servants can discern between what’s important and what’s a diversion—not the way you can.”
“Yes,” he sighed. “It’s a burden being the only truly wise one, but it’s my lot.”
“I admire the way you refused to embarrass Baal by pointing out that he’d missed the most important point altogether.”
“He does that a lot.”
“Baal thinks the most important questions to answer are who the baby is and then how to kill him.”
“But I know that’s not the important question?”
I nodded.
“You try to guess what the important question is, and I’ll tell you if you’re right.”
“Pshaw, O Brilliant One, only because I have studied you for so long do I know the important question has nothing to do with how, who, or where the baby is.”
“Right so far. Keep going.”
“The real question is, Where is Adonai?”
D
O YOU KNOW
who I am?”
The disheveled man nodded, afraid to make eye contact.
“You’ve made me go to a lot of trouble to find you.” Og’s gravelly voice sounded like that of someone who’d smoked heavily for many years.
Wonk Eman slumped in the wingback chair and kept his eyes locked on the floor, hoping it might open and swallow him. Save for the involuntary trembling of his hands, he made no other movement. His oversized inquisitor sat on his soft leather chair behind the antique desk that separated them and waited for a response. When none came, the inquisitor nodded to his strong man, Anak Rapha. Looking more the part of a mob boss than the chief financial officer of Israel’s largest biotech company, Rapha walked behind Wonk and gave him a jab between the shoulders.
“Mr. Og asked you a question.”
“I don’t understand what you want from me. I’m just—”
“Stop!” Og walked around to the front of his desk and sat down on the edge. His garlicky breath wafted across the short distance to Wonk’s twitching nose. “Stop right there and listen to me, Wonk. Let’s not waste each other’s time. You know who I am, and I know who you are.” Og took Wonk’s face in his large six-fingered hand and forced him to look up. “Let me put that another way. I know who you
really
are. Now let’s try again. You knew I would find you, yes?”
“Yes.” Wonk’s eyes darted from side to side as he tried to avoid looking directly into the eyes of the man who gripped his face as if in a vice. A wrong move and he could crush his face bones with one squeeze.
“Where are the scrolls?”
“Scrolls?”
Og squeezed harder.
“I–I don’t have them.”
“But you know where they are.”
Wonk hesitated, and the hand squeezed again.
“Aaagh, I can’t speak.”
“So speak.” Og let go of Wonk’s contorted face.
Wonk rubbed his face and felt around his cheekbones, certain one of them must have cracked under the pressure.
“I got rid of them. They’re useless anyway. I don’t know why I kept them around.”
“Useless? How interesting. I understand they contain a diary.”
Wonk felt the last drop of blood drain from his face.
“Diary? I wouldn’t call it that—not at all.”
“In fact, Wonk, I’ve heard it’s a detailed diary with information that would be of much interest to me.”
“Oh, no—am I bleeding?” Wonk patted his face. “More like the ramblings of a madman’s imagination; nothing you’d care anything about.”
Og grabbed Wonk’s arm, lifting him off his chair, and pulled him outside onto the balcony of his lush tenth-floor office. The campus of the biotech laboratories sprawled out in front of them. Wonk’s eyes widened with fear as he grabbed hold of the railing, afraid of being thrown off.
“Take a look at my world, Wonk.” He shoved him closer to the edge. “Do you know what we do here?”
“I don’t keep up with technology.”
“We do the work of God, the way God
should
have done it.”
Wonk grimaced.
“Human engineering—cross-species fertilization, cloning, cellular biology, all for humanitarian endeavors. Our research will enable a super race, resistant to disease and aging—what God tried to do and failed.”
“What’s this got to do with me?”
Og tightened his grip on Wonk’s arm and forced him nearer the edge, threatening to push him over the railing.
“I will not allow you to interfere with my work. Do you understand me?”
“Why would I want to do something like that, even if I could?”
Og pushed Wonk back inside the office and shoved him against the wall.
“Tell me where the scrolls are.”
“Scrolls?”
“Do not even think about playing mind games with me.” He grabbed him by the throat. “Where are they?”
“Uh, I’m not sure.”
Breathing hard, Og wrapped the fingers of his immense hand around Wonk’s neck and lifted him from the floor.
“Does Samantha Yale have them?”
“Who?”
He squeezed harder.
“Yes.” Wonk eked out the word through his pursed lips.
Og dropped him and stepped back as Wonk sputtered for breath and fell down on his hands and knees.
“Where is she?”
“I don’t know.”
He kicked him in the ribs.
“Aaargh! At the university.” Wonk rubbed his chest to make sure nothing was broken. “She’s a professor of languages of antiquity.”
“No, she’s not,” Anak said as he stepped in and pulled Wonk to his feet; he smirked as Wonk’s eyes widened with confusion. “I called her. She wasn’t there.”
“It must be her day off.”
“You don’t have any idea who she is, do you? She has you completely fooled.”
“I don’t know what you mean.”
“She has no connection with the university.”
“But that’s not true. I’ve been to her office.”
“You are stupid and naïve if you think you can trust Samantha Yale.”
“You don’t know her.”
“Oh, but
I
do.” Og waved Anak to step back. “Let me tell you what I know about Dr. Yale. She’s an imposter in cahoots with Jonathan Marks to play you for the fool you are, to steal the scrolls.”
“No, you’re wrong. She’s not like that. She would never be involved with someone like Jonathan Marks.”
“She contacted him.”
“But they’ve never met; she told me so.”
“Why, Mr. Eman,” Og mocked, “do I detect a hint of jealousy? Have you developed affection for Dr. Yale?”
