The War in Heaven (32 page)

There was something there, not far above the western horizon, almost hidden as the curtains of the aurora shifted back and forth across it like drapes of translucent gossamer. It was not a particularly bright star, but it was there; it was no illusion.

They stood in wonder, watching it for several minutes before they realized that it was moving very slowly, rising higher in the sky. It also appeared to be growing somewhat brighter.

There were footsteps behind them. They turned to find the dark angel Lenar with a look of mild amusement on his face.

“Hardly a night for a stroll in the aurora light,” he said, turning to gaze at the star that had so captivated Bedillia and Tom. “That is interesting. It must be the Spirit, Nikola Tesla’s vessel.”

Tom gazed back at Lenar in amazement. “Tesla … here?”

“Yes,” confirmed Lenar. “Abaddon is speaking to him on the telesphere right now. He has called an important meeting, and he requests both of you to be present. Apparently, Tesla has brought information of some importance with him, along with supplies that we vitally need.”

The three hurried back to Refuge, even as the lone star climbed higher into the sky. It was 40 minutes later when the hurriedly-called meeting got underway in Abaddon’s audience chamber. By the time Tom and Bedillia arrived, it was standing room only. The telesphere, displaying a three-dimensional image of Tesla, had been placed in the middle of the table.

“We have much to discuss,” noted Abaddon. “As all of you know, Satan and his forces have attacked Heaven. They have managed to largely isolate the angels on Heaven’s different planes. The humans there are acting as pilots, ferrying them from one area to another, keeping them in touch with each other. However, at this point, Satan may well have captured a third of the angelic warriors in Heaven. If he succeeds in defeating them, the entire nature of the universe shall be forever altered.”

“I really don’t see how this concerns us,” said the dark angel Ramiel. “We were long ago abandoned by our brethren in Heaven. When we were sentenced to this realm, not one of them spoke up on our behalf, only the human Enoch took up our defense. I will stand in defense of the humans, of that you can be sure. As for the angels of Heaven … 1 say this is their fight.”

Several other dark angels nodded in agreement. Apparently, for them, time had not healed this deep wound.

“Have you forgotten the sacrifices that many of the angels have made on your behalf?” asked Nikola. “They have delivered supplies vital to your rebellion, at great personal risk, and have been instrumental in gathering intelligence regarding the devil’s movements. You cannot allow old divisions to come between you. We all face a common enemy.”

“A select few have,” noted the dark angel Aziel. “To angels such as Aaron, Moriah, and Marlith, we owe a debt of gratitude. However, the vast majority remain adamant to our cause. We have been abandoned by God and the angels. Even if we were to assist them, how would it benefit us? We would still be condemned.”

“You don’t know that,” objected Nikola. “Anyway, it’s not just them… it’s us, the humans of Heaven, who need your help. You are in a position to turn the tide of the battle in Heaven. You’ve got to put away your differences. We all have to work together.”

“How can we possibly help anyone?” asked Kurt. “We’re hanging on by our fingernails here.”

“You are wrong,” said Nikola. “You are in a position to turn the tables on the devil. There are currently some ninety million angels isolated on Earth with no way to get back to Heaven to join the fight. Satan has found a way to block the return of those angels. He found a way to increase the density of the dimensional barriers between Heaven and Earth, and Heaven and Hell. To do this requires tremendous power, and I believe that I have identified the power source. From up here, it is easy to see. It is the same power source that is generating the brilliant auroras over your heads. The auroras are literally leading me to it. It is a city on the Dark Continent, a city on the shore of the great Sea of Fire.”

“The City of Sheol,” said Lenar.

“Yes, that is correct,” confirmed Nikola. “If it were destroyed, I am convinced that we could move the angels from Earth to Heaven in a matter of days rather than months. Think of it as opening up a second front in your war. Bottle Satan up in a long and costly war in Heaven, and you make your job easier here.”

“But how do we destroy Sheol?” objected Ramiel. “If it is as important as you claim, it will be heavily guarded.”

“I have aboard the Spirit the means to wipe Sheol completely off the map of Hell,” said Nikola. “But I need your assistance to deliver that weapon. I can’t do it alone.”

“Are we ready for an operation of that magnitude?” questioned Eleazar.

“We will never be as ready as we would like,” said Abaddon, “but I believe that now is the time. If Satan is allowed to consolidate his power in Heaven, our situation here will be all the worse. I believe it is time to hear of this weapon and see if we can come up with a means of delivering it.”

The meeting went on for several more hours. Tesla was about to lose contact with them when the plan was finally taking shape. Within another six hours, the Spirit would be safely tucked away in the large icy cavern.

As the telesphere onboard Spirit went dark, Nikola prepared to alter course, bringing the Spirit into a tighter orbit of Hell. On the next circuit of this cruel orb, he would touch down.

Already, the twilight world of shifting auroras, fiery seas, and lava fields glowing in the dark, was giving way to the searing plains of Hell’s daylight hemisphere. He gazed down at the desolate landscape. It was hard to believe that there were billions of people on that scorched planet. He would continue to take readings, but he already had all of the information he needed.

A 30-second realignment of the field generator saw the beginning of the descent. He would enter the atmosphere over the western regions of the Sea of Fire. Even at low speed, he realized that his entry into the atmosphere would be hard to miss. Fortunately, this was a sparsely populated region. Few indeed would bear witness to his arrival, and most of them would be well past caring. He would make some evasive maneuvers so as to make it difficult for Satan’s forces to track him. He could ill afford to have some demon follow him to Refuge. He would keep his eyes glued to the radar.

He considered his situation again. He glanced at the fuel gauge, to confirm what he already knew. Even if Abaddon and his people succeeded at destroying the power generator and they managed to get the density of the
barrier between Hell and Heaven back to normal, he might not have sufficient fuel to make the trip back. He might well be stuck here for a very long time. He put that thought out of his mind. There was work for him to do here. If the truth be known, he would probably be more useful to the cause here than he would be in Heaven.

Hell loomed ever larger as Nikola prepared to retract the instruments for atmospheric entry. He was cruising 600 miles above an active volcanic field, one of the most active regions on the planet. Anywhere else, this might be the kind of place that would spark a sense of wonder in a scientific mind. There were fountains of lava rising hundreds of feet into the air with clouds of ash and steam giving genesis to powerful electric discharges and rivers of hot molten rock flowing for miles. It was one of the great spectacles of nature, but not here.

Here, one might wonder what sort of horrors were transpiring down there? What manner of human suffering was underway in that sulfurous world of intense heat and toxic smoke? He turned away from it, concentrating on the job ahead. Forty minutes to atmospheric entry. Five minutes before that, he would throttle up the engines a final time and slow down to a fraction of orbital velocity so as to lessen the force of impact with the atmosphere. He couldn’t afford to blaze like a meteor across the twilight sky in a world where there were no meteors.

He swept toward atmospheric interface. Hell’s red sun had touched the horizon and was sinking into the dusty atmosphere behind him. The light in the cabin faded as the last glimmer of the star Kordor vanished into the middle of a swiftly narrowing red crescent. It would be the last time he saw this sight for a long time. He was heading into a land of eternal night and eternal cold. Five minutes to atmospheric interface—it was time.

The engines came to life not as a roar, but as a whine. Artificial gravity was pulling the spacecraft backward, putting on the brakes. Atmospheric interface occurred not at 17,000 miles per hour but at 5,000. There was
some slight buffeting and a sound of wind roaring around the craft at hypersonic speeds, but no telltail trail of bright ionization.

Normally the Spirit was flown by two people. Critical events during entry into an atmosphere were fast paced and difficult for one man to keep up with, even with a computer. Yet Nikola flew it perfectly.

Fifty miles below, he crossed the shoreline of the Sea of Fire. The sea stretched out to the horizon, a hot black ocean, with currents and towering waves, topped with swirling columns of fire. Countless people floated helplessly in that vast sea, their blood evaporated in its fiery heat, their minds racked with unimaginable pain. He might well have ended up in a place like that were it not for the mercy of his Savior, Jesus. God’s mercy to him still filled him with a sense of awe. He had lived 86 years without giving His creator the time of day, only to have a life-changing experience three days before he died. There, alone in his apartment, sick and in pain, he had finally turned to God.

His father had been a minister; he had grown up in a Christian home, yet somehow that faith hadn’t been passed down to him. Science had been his god for so long. His father and mother had both been relieved when he showed up at their mansion in Heaven on that January morning. They had spoken to the Father on his behalf many times. Apparently, praying parents in Heaven did help, at least in his case. Still, what had he ever done to deserve salvation? That still bothered him. It was a free gift; this he knew, yet he felt that he had to do something. He had felt that way for 60 years. To a large extent, that was why he was here now.

Thirty-six miles altitude was the indication on the altimeter—time to increase power and extend the glide slope. After all, he didn’t want to crash into the black sea below him, whether he deserved it or not.

No, he had to stop thinking like that. It was the absence of God’s Holy Spirit that was making him feel this way. His mind wandered back to those last three years of his life, the things that had haunted him. Ghosts out of
his past were what he had thought they were. Now, of course, he knew that they were not ghosts at all, but demons sent to confuse him.

Ahead, the sky was full of light, the aurora, but this time they were above him, not below. “About eighty to about two hundred kilometers altitude,” he said aloud just to hear a voice. Strange, there was a time when he preferred to be alone. He would be in telesphere range of Refuge in about an hour, if all went well. Again he attempted to contact Johann, but without success.

To his right, towering ten miles above this otherworldly ocean, a powerful thunderstorm positively alive with blue bolts of lightning raged, driven by updrafts from the fiery sea below. The clouds themselves were yellow and not white like Earthly clouds. Below the base of the clouds, he could just make out what looked like a blue mist plunging to the sea. He knew only too well what it was that he was witnessing.

Like so many things in Hell, this was a distorted parody of an earthly thunderstorm. Below these billowing clouds fell a rain, not of water, but of concentrated sulfuric acid mixed with hailstones of flaming sulfur. It added yet another dimension to the torment of those adrift on the terrible sea.

His eyes turned back to his instruments. His airspeed had dropped to just under mach 2. By the time he reached 60,000 feet, he would have to be subsonic. He made another course correction, a precaution, just in case he had been observed from below.

Ahead of him the fires of the sea seemed to abruptly end. He had reached the Dark Continent at last.

Fifteen minutes found him crossing the shoreline at an altitude of just under 90,000 feet. Under the intense auroral display, he could make out landforms—mountains and valleys, mostly. The Dark Continent was rough territory, an ideal place to hide. He was anxious to get to Refuge. He would have liked nothing better than to push the engines a little harder to get there more quickly. No, he would stick to the plan.

A few minutes later, he had dropped back through the sound barrier. Now his approach would be very silent. He passed 40,000 feet, then 30,000. He became increasingly on edge. He would soon be passing into airspace traveled by demons. He frequently scanned his radar. It would easily pick up a bird if there was one—it was clear.

The sudden hiss of the telesphere made Nikola practically jump. He gazed into its depths to see a friendly face.

“Welcome to the Dark Continent,” said Abaddon, smiling broadly. “My scouts on the surface tell me that they have you in sight…off to the west. Looks like you’re right on course. We’ve set out lights to guide you in.”

“Thank you,” said Nikola, “I’m glad to be here.”

“We are glad to have you here with us,” assured Abaddon. “We have rolled out the red carpet for you. You are, after all, our first saintly guest. I look forward to meeting you in person.”

The rest of the approach was uneventful. Within ten minutes, he had an escort of four dark angels flying in formation around him. They guided him into the cavern above Refuge. It was a tight but manageable fit. At last, the four spidery legs of the Spirit touched down on solid ground. Nikola put on the parka he had packed and descended the ladder. He was greeted by the applause and cheers of no less than 100 dark angels and humans. He was beginning to feel much more at ease.

“Welcome to Refuge, Dr. Tesla,” said a fair-of-face human woman that Nikola recognized as Bedillia Farnsworth. She extended her hand.

Usually Nikola had problems making physical contact with others, but not this time. He shook her hand warmly. “No doctor, please, just Nikola.”