Great White Throne (13 page)

Don’s smile wavered. “I will be exalted for what I give the people. Eli can either enjoy the honor by my side or share the fate of Ronaldo and the rest of the order.”

“And my fate?” Naomi looked up slowly and met Don’s gaze.

“That depends. If Eli joins me, he saves you. Otherwise, yes … you’ll die like the rest of them.” Don glanced at Ronaldo as if he were a stray dog. “Like the Brazilian.”

All their eyes settled on me. Joining meant wielding immense power. It meant getting out of this palace. It meant opportunity. Not joining meant doing nothing, hiding in fear, but did it also mean trusting and waiting on God?
Do I let Naomi die or deal with the devil?

Don’s hand reached out toward me.

I couldn’t let Naomi die, not like this. I’d trade my life for hers.

Trust.
I clasped his hand.

Don smiled and shook it firmly. I felt as if power were entering me.
 

“You will
not
harm Elijah.” Naomi looked down as the baby began to make waking noises. “Remember, the fate of your son depends on me.”

Don released my hand and turned to her. “Sometimes I forget how young you are, and how little you know.” He put one hand on her cheek, and the other on the baby’s head. “Such misplaced faith makes my victory all the sweeter.” He smiled, exultant. “There’s no finer taste than the blood of martyrs.”

The way he looked at her made me cringe. “Stop touching her.”

Don stepped back and grinned at me. “As you wish. She’s my gift to you, after all. Come.” He motioned for Naomi and me to follow. “Ronaldo has a date with my little helper, who you’ve now met. Androids will escort you back to your quarters.”

BIRDS SANG OVERHEAD as I walked through the rainforest. My hands grazed over green plants with soft and silky leaves. A fresh breeze blew against my bare skin. I breathed in deeply. The smell was decadent and tropical. I caught hints of every fruit I could imagine—pineapples, mangos, kiwis. The trees rose high as skyscrapers above me.

I came to a river of dark blue, peaceful water. A woman was swimming along with the current. Our eyes met.

“Come in!” she said, waving and laughing. “It’s wonderful.”

I waded into the cool water. I gasped as it touched my stomach, then I dove fully under. I sprang off the river’s bottom and my head splashed out. I shouted to the sky.

The woman laughed with me as we swam easily toward each other. She took my hands in hers. “Let’s go to the island and let the sun warm us dry.”

I nodded. We swam together to an island in the middle of the river. It was not far, but my breath was rushed, exhilarated as we stepped onto the island’s shore.

“There.” The woman pointed to a large flat stone that stuck out over the river. Droplets of water fell from her outstretched arm, from her hair, down her chest and legs. We wore only our skin, and neither of us seemed to notice. We lay on our backs on the stone. I closed my eyes and felt my body’s weight settle against the smooth, warm surface. The sun played on my eyelids. It dried my skin. I fell into sleep within sleep.

“Let’s go.” The woman was tapping my shoulder. I opened my eyes. The sun was like a halo over her head. “You hungry?”
 

I nodded and stood.

She laughed and pulled me along by the hand. We came to the only tree on the island. It was in the center, with a trunk wider than I was tall. Its branches arched and swooped low to the ground around us. Looking up through its gnarled wood, bending and turning, dividing and reaching, I had a sense of great age, as if this tree had been here before the forest, the river, and even the earth. I was a newborn before an ancient.

“Here.” The woman held out a bright red fruit.

I took it in my hand. It fit easily in my palm, but was heavy as a stone. “We don’t eat this,” I said.

Her lips curled up at the ends, luscious and happy. “He said the taste is good, so good we’ll never forget it. Let’s just try it.”

“Who said that?”

“Him.” She pointed to one of the tree’s low branches, which bent all the way to the ground. There, wound around the wood, watching us, was a serpent.

“Do I know you?” I asked.
 

The creature’s slitted eyes blinked closed then open, and so did mine. Only, when mine opened, the tree and everything else were gone. I sat up and rubbed my eyes.
 

An android stood beside my bed, sending a shiver down my spine. I had no idea how long it had been there.
 

Its machine arms held out some clothes. “Get dressed. Time to go.”

“Where?”

“Don is waiting. The battle begins soon.”

I rose from my bed, still disoriented. I barely remembered falling asleep after an android had escorted me back to my room the night before. Sleep had brought the dream, and the dream had brought that alluring vision.
 

I took the suit, black as usual. The android waited at the door for me to put it on. I had a feeling this was my last chance to back out. I thought of Ronaldo, locked up in prison. My stomach growled, reminding me of Ronaldo’s words. Real food of the spirit. I needed that. I needed to pray.
 

God, do I go?
 

I waited. I buttoned my shirt.
 

Why would you let the devil give me this choice? Naomi might die if I don’t go.
 

I finished buttoning. My fingers were tying the tie when a verse came to me, clear as day. It was something I’d read, maybe back on the boat with Ronaldo. Now it rang true:
Do not fear what you are about to suffer … Be faithful unto death, and I will give you the crown of life
.

Faithful unto death. Trust and wait. Would this give me a chance to speak for the Lord? I could certainly reach more people if I weren’t trapped in the palace, and it was my chance to save Naomi. I had to go. And so I did.

The android led me out. We walked from the palace’s west wing to one of the inner areas. We eventually passed through a door that had always been locked for me. We came to a room that looked like a wheel’s hub. It had hallways leading six different directions. In the center of the room was a glass column.
 

An elevator rose up before us a moment later, the doors sliding open and the android stepping in. I entered and we shot up. The elevator took us outside as if we were flying through the glass spire that loomed over the palace. I gazed out over the Dead Sea and desert hills beyond. I looked up and saw a disc shape—the control tower, Alexi had said. The elevator stopped inside the disc and I stepped out.

I was in a round operations center. The window panels were screens encircling the room. The floor and ceiling were bright, polished white. I counted ten white chairs in a circle facing out toward the screens. The men and women sitting in the chairs were wearing wired helmets over their heads. None of them turned as I entered. I saw only their backs.
 

One chair was empty.
 

I glanced back and saw the elevator descend again. The glass column lowered until it was flush with the floor. And there, in the heart of the room, in the center of the white chairs, was a large crimson chair with arms coiled like serpents. Don sat there, watching me.

“Welcome to the war,” he said. “Take your seat.”

AS I MOVED to the open seat, I saw faces I recognized. Alexi. Beatriz. Two from the gathering of the world’s richest in Geneva—Xing Xing and the young guy from India. I did not know the other four. Everyone’s eyes were closed, their faces focused. Synced.

Don came to my side. “Sit.”

I sat. As soon as I did, the helmet lowered over my head. Its translucent wires prodded like little parasitic worms seeking a point of entry.

“You will have the machine you trained in,” Don said, “but first you will receive a briefing of the battlefield. Heed every detail. The Persians want to kill you. Kill them first. See you in Tehran.” He spun away.

My precept came on without request. The sync took over. My body was in Don’s control tower, but my mind was transported a million miles away.

A map of the world filled my vision. Almost every spot of land had a layer of crimson covering it, as if painted in blood. The color was thicker and darker in places. But in a few tiny dots, the reddish tint grew so faint that there was white. Was that the resistance? The order? The dots were few and far between. They looked splattered from the fling of a painter’s brush. A handful in America, China. A few more in Africa.

The view began zooming in on the Middle East. A green expanse filled the center of the area, dark as an emerald around the region, but lighter as it merged into red on the edges. That had to be the Muslim resistance. The Mahdi’s people. The area around Jerusalem was splattered in red, green, white, and even a couple specks of blue. Jewish people, I guessed. My people.

Some days ago, on November 19,
said Beatriz’s voice in my mind,
the resistance began Ramadan, and we launched our reclamation project.

The colors on the map began to shift. Lines of red plunged into the green, piercing like arrows from the north, east, south, and west. Each arrow plunged farther and expanded. Red swept over the Arabian peninsula. Red from the north and south met and swallowed every trace of green down the middle of the region. Red from the west dripped down over North Africa; it bent around Jerusalem and flooded east, turning a rich crimson color with no specks of white. A circle of green remained farther east, darkest around Tehran. I imagined Aisha and the Mahdi there, holding against Don’s forces.

Beatriz’s voice came again.
As of yesterday, December 7, nearly all the resistance had accepted our offer of peace. They laid down their arms, exalted Don, and entered Babylon. Two cities remain. We have already established our stronghold near Jerusalem. Don will take it last. Today we send all our forces to Tehran, to finish the enemy.
 

My view suddenly panned to the other side of the world. It zoomed onto a large island in the Pacific, onto a dense range of mountains, onto an immense crater. A mine cut deep into the earth.

Don awaits you
, Beatriz said.
He will lead the attack from above. I expect you’ll be at his side. Follow his commands to the letter, or Naomi dies.