Great White Throne (7 page)

No answer. More silence.
 

My dreams seemed more real than my prayers. Maybe I was going crazy—locked in Don’s palace with every comfort I could want and every terror I didn’t, unsure of what had happened to Michael and the order, unable to help Naomi, tired and weak.
 

I fell to my knees, desperate.
God, what do you want from me?

TRUST. WAIT.
 

An answer. Two words. I didn’t hear them aloud, but I knew it wasn’t from me. My mind wouldn’t have come up with those words. The last thing I wanted to do was wait. But if that was the command, I would do it.

Thank you. I will trust and wait. What else?

Silence.

I’d take what I could get.
Trust
in God. Didn’t I already?
Wait
. Did I have any other choice? How long did I have to—

“The crescent moon,” said Don’s voice.
 

It made me jump to my feet, and almost out of my skin. He was beside me, from out of nowhere, and his dark eyes fixed on me. It was like he’d heard God’s words and come.

“Isn’t it beautiful?” He gazed out into the night. “Know what it means?”

“The moon?” I tried to sound composed.

“Yes.”

“I guess it means the moon completed another orbit around earth.”

“Funny.” Don turned to me with his unnerving grin. “It makes no sense that your kind would have humor.”

“Why?”

His sudden laugh made me cringe. “How long will you pretend to not know me?”

“You’re Donatello Cristo, the President of the UN.”

“A name, a title. An insult for the god of this world. We are being honest, Eli. Would you dare insult me again?”

“Why do you care what I say?”
 

“Because apparently my enemy cares.” He paused and looked back toward the moon. “I asked you a question. What does
this
crescent moon mean?”

“It would mean a new month in a lunar calendar.”
 

“You’re getting closer. This will be the most important month in the earth’s history.”

“The last month?”

“Yes, my final victory.” His knuckles were white as he gripped the balcony’s rail. “Tonight my army attacks. The Muslims have just started their holy month celebration, Ramadan. They think my sights are only on Jerusalem, but I save that jewel for the end. My forces, sharp as this sickle moon, will first slice the legs off Persia. It will fall and burn in days. Then I will finish with Jerusalem, and all will worship me. Trust
in me, Eli, or you will die like the rest of my enemies.”

I was trembling—some foul combination of fear and anger and uncertainty. “Why are you telling me this?”

He held me with his smile, teeth bared, and for a moment I thought he might swallow me like the dragon. But then he answered, “He is not the only one who cares about souls. You think we are so different—the maker and me?”

“Yes.”

“Just because he came first?” Don sighed. “A common mistake. The clouds give birth to lightning, but that does not make the lightning anything less. No, the lightning is more, just as I am more. We all crave to be worshiped. He just wants worship in a new place, with only his chosen. I would welcome all.”

I felt Don’s words wrapping around me, soft and silky lies that bind like steel. My mind came to the question that had led me to God in the first place. “But why?” I asked. “Why does God want that?”

“It doesn’t matter why. What matters is what you do and what you feel. He would make you a slave to his law. I will make you free.”

In a virtual test tube
. “I’ve been to Babylon,” I said flatly.

His smile faltered, then his lips turned up again. “I want you on my side, Eli. You know you’re not like other people. You are to them what I am to the angels. And you saw how Michael fared.” He clasped my shoulder, tight. “We can rule this earth together. Don’t give that up for some vague promise of
trust and wait
.”

A shudder ran down my spine.
He had heard.
I stuffed my fear down. “I’ll think about it.”

“Time is running short. You have one more month.”

A month stuck here?
“If I am free, will you let me leave?” I asked. “Naomi, too?”

“She must care for my son, and I promised you would stay with her. I know, you grow restless. So do I. If you want to protect Naomi’s life—” he paused, just long enough for me to understand his threat— “then you’ll join me in this battle. I have drones with more power than you’ve ever seen. Syncing to them is like harnessing a hurricane.”

He said that as if I should be excited about the power, and as if I had a choice. I had to protect Naomi. Maybe I could at least
learn something to help us escape. “I’m interested in these drones.”

He smiled, glorious and inviting. “I will send you information. Take control of your own fate instead of groveling to others. Naomi’s life is in your hands.”
 

I nodded, unsure of what to say.
Trust. Wait.
I looked back at the moon, as if it held any answers. The night suddenly felt very quiet, very dark, and very lonely.
 

I turned back to Don, but he was gone.
 

DON WAS NOWHERE to be seen in the following days. They passed in a blur of midnight feedings, 4 a.m. cries, and bleary-eyed, shuffling steps from Naomi’s room to mine. I wandered the halls but found no spot unguarded. I began getting used to the constant companionship of androids. My dreams came every night—the same ones, but each a slightly different iteration, each full of terror and confusion and hope. Naomi and I had no contact with the outside world. We heard nothing from God. Nothing from the order. Nothing from Don.

One morning a tablet of information arrived. Its thin glass frame sat on the foot of my bed when I woke up. I’d slept through whatever snuck into my room and delivered it. The thought of some android leaning over me in my sleep made me want to shower.

I didn’t touch the tablet. Not yet. I went through the robotic showering ritual, put on another black suit—the only clothes available. I went back into the bedroom and hesitated over the tablet. It was in the same place, a flat sheet of circuits. It couldn’t do any harm if I left it alone. But I couldn’t use it that way. Naomi and I weren’t getting anywhere on our own. I picked it up and walked out.
 

I passed the two androids waiting by the door. They didn’t follow, they never did. They had a thousand other machine-eyes to watch the palace.
 

I went straight to Naomi. We shared our good mornings: as usual, nothing new had happened during the night. More lost sleep. More of the same dreams. The baby was snoozing.

“Look.” I held up the tablet, glinting in the morning light. “It showed up last night. I bet it’s the drone info.” I’d told her all about the conversation with Don.

Naomi’s tired eyes fixed on the tablet. She motioned for me to join her on the bed, as we did when we wanted to avoid being overheard. She whispered, “I still don’t like this.”

“Shouldn’t we at least see the information?”

She leaned closer, her breath warm on my ear. Her voice was soft but firm. “It will be designed to deceive.”

“I know,” I replied quietly, “but we can pray for God’s help while we review it.”

“We should pray, but it’s not that simple. We’re not supposed to fling ourselves into temptation, and Don could make this irresistible. We may not know what he’s up to, but we know he’s full of lies. I don’t like the idea of you rebooting your precept, much less syncing with one of his drones. You can’t leave me alone here. You can’t go into this war, even if your intentions are to help the order. Don won’t let that happen anyway.”

“It’s just my mind. My body will stay here.”

A slight smile touched her lips, but not her eyes. “You think I want your body without your mind? Besides, Don’s drones will be more complex than what we used in ISA-7. You know the risks if your drone is taken out.”

I thought of the Captain losing his mind and diving out of a skyscraper. The deeper we went in, the worse the shock if we got ejected. “I know the risks,” I said. “I’ll avoid a complete sync.”

“Better to avoid syncing all together.”

“Let’s at least see what information Don provided. We may have a chance to use it, even if I don’t sync.” I put on my most convincing smile. “I promise I won’t go unless it’s necessary.”

“Nice try, pretty boy. What would make it
necessary
for you to go?”

“If God tells me to do it.”

“You’ll limit it to that?”

Trust. Wait.
“I promise.”

We turned to lay on our backs, our sides pressed together, as I held up the glass tablet over us. It was as thin as paper, and not much heavier.
 

“You ready?” I asked.

“Almost,” she said, closing her eyes. “God, give us vision now. Protect us from evil, help us resist temptation, show us Your will. Amen.” Her eyes opened. “Go ahead.”

I activated the tablet. The screen expanded into a holographic ocean before us. It felt like we were soaring backwards, just above clear blue water. Waves lapped gently over a wide stretch of whitish-yellow sand. Palm trees dotted the crescent coast, and an immense city loomed in the distance.
 

The view froze. The focus sharpened on still figures between the ocean and the palms. Thousands of soldiers wore armored suits in the dull color of desert camouflage. They formed a line three men deep, stretching the entire screen along the beach. I hardly would have seen them except for their guns. Lasers, missiles, and artillery. They had enough firepower to seize a nation, and all of it was aimed toward the water.
 

As the soldiers held their positions and the gentle waves rolled in, an overlay of text appeared:
November 23, 2066, 9:34 am. Outside Dubai.
That was about two weeks ago, not long after Don had told me war would begin.

The text faded. The waves lapped. The palm trees blew gently in the wind.
 

The view spun out over the water again. Something lit up a hundred feet out, like a mirror catching the sun. Then dozens of mirrors. Each one rising higher and stirring the calm ocean around it. Giant metallic bodies emerged from the depths, marching toward the coast.
 

For a moment, no soldiers fired. The line of machines advanced on the line of men, the distance closing. Then, in unison, a line of missiles flew from the advancing creatures. The streams of white clouds, perfectly parallel, could have been beautiful.
 

The missiles hit—not the men, but a shield. They exploded against an invisible bubble just above the men. It must have been a thermal shield like the one over Washington, DC. As the burning missiles fell into the water, the shield blinked away, just for an instant. The men on the shore unleashed a flurry of shots at the machines. Then the shield was back.
 

The soldiers’ salvo hit the metal beasts like a wave. Several of the giant creatures stumbled. A few fell, crashing into the water, but most still advanced, steady and unflinching. They reached the crashing waves, closing in on the men, before they bumped against the invisible wall. The men stood their ground as the machines each reached out with artificial hands. Spindly, metallic digits prodded at the shield, as if searching for a weakness.
 

The unseen wall held. The men had to be frantic inside, but they looked as calm as statues while the drones continued their work—their masterminds probably trying to hack whatever code was controlling the shield. In the moment of equipoise, the screen’s view zoomed away, lifting like a bird on the sea breeze.
 

The water stirred again, farther out this time. Another metal beast began to rise and advance. This one dwarfed the others. It was maybe twice their size, with four legs instead of two. Seven heads grew from its hulking frame, looking every direction at once. The machine moved faster and faster, surging out of the water and charging at the line of men. It slammed against the shield, cracking it from top to bottom. It reared back and slammed forward again. This time the shield shattered.