The Salvation War: Pantheocide. Part Eighty One Up

[Ryan Thunder]

Because all the stories where the supernatural/alien force comes and all your base are belong to us are somehow better?

Yeah, I thought you'd show up at some point with a nonsequitur or some kind of strawman argument.

I have to admit I didn't think it'd be quite so quickly, however...

[Simon_Jester]

OK, even taking into consideration the baldrick mindset and their ignorance of human capability, things were written for them to fail.

No, it wasn't. I actually wrote things to give the Daemons in particular the best chance possible.

...Hmm.

There is one significant, militarily useful thing you could very reasonably have given them, that would have made them far more effective, without bending any more physics. One I'm surprised in hindsight they made no use of:

The ability to use mind entanglement to send messages telepathically. What need do demons or angels have of couriers, when they can send messages to anyone in the vicinity, or even to people in other dimensions? You'd already given them that power for other reasons, and it would have... well, they still wouldn't win, but they'd be marginally more effective if they could coordinate over long distances rather than relying on couriers for everything.

So why don't/can't they do that?

Um - hate to disagree, but I think he's talking about the trumpets, described in Revelation 8:7 - 11:15. A set of weapons distinct from the bowls, which are described later.

Oh them. Sorry, I dropped the trumpets because they contained too much that couldn't be done using the technology level available. They were replaced by the hurricates, super-tornadoes etc which were probably a lot more destructive. (Remember when people say a third of all the people they mean that in the context of the time - a third of a couple of million at most. Not a third of our population.)

Though you'd still need similar coverage: a storm that kills a third of the population of Iron Age Egypt is only killing a few million people, but it still has to hit the entire Nile Valley to be that lethal. The same storm today would kill vastly more.

[Stuart]

Ah, so let me see if I understand this right, it's not simply a matter of looking at the original legends and trying to square them with known physical reality, the mechanisms must also be ... thematically appropriate to the era the material was written in? Like, the mountain thrown into the sea can't be an asteroid because the people who wrote Revelations wouldn't have known or imagined anything like weaponized asteroid deflection?

That's right; we're on the same page at last. The defining characteristic is "what would happen if the fundies were right and what was in the Bible started to come literally true. That defining characteristic compels quite significant constraints on the storyline. Also, it has to eb thematically consistent and it also implies that the daemons/angels etc are a static society. Because, if they kept pace with us they would have the same social imperatives as us and that implies their own faith in the supernatural/deities etc would be changed. At most, we would be back in something like Turtledove's Worldwar series.

As to the spinal cord thing ... I had a point by point response written up, but on second thought, I don't think I'll bother. Just one point of curiousity. Couldn't a demon project into the brain through the face from below? Or would the mass of bone and flesh in the way interfere with the signal?

Technically they could but to do it they would have to be prone, on the ground, at their victims feet. Somebody might notice. In reality where shielding is concerned, a semi-sphere gives pretty nearly complete protection. Next time you're near a warship, take a look at the shielding around its EW antennas.

PS By the way, a powerful daemon close up and concentrating on a single victim can punch through a tinfoil hat so protection isn't absolute

PPS Another by the way; look at the suit worn by the AA gunner on a Project 1241 missile boat to protect him from the ship's own radar. The head protection is a close-fitting semi-spherical cup of a foil like substance; just like the foil hats described in the story. So that's a very practical application of the same idea. If you're a good boy I'll tell you some stories about the time we took an ex-Soviet 1241 out and played with it for a few days. That was fun.

[Stuart]

The ability to use mind entanglement to send messages telepathically. What need do demons or angels have of couriers, when they can send messages to anyone in the vicinity, or even to people in other dimensions? You'd already given them that power for other reasons, and it would have... well, they still wouldn't win, but they'd be marginally more effective if they could coordinate over long distances rather than relying on couriers for everything.

They actually do that but the capability is line-of-sight only for normal circumstances. Hi-level daemons can contact people at distances but they need peace and quiet to concentrate on doing it.

So why don't/can't they do that?

The answer is they can, they do, they did. But, for complex messages and conversations couriers are better. That applies today. For all our comms facilities, better than telepathy ever could be, we still use couriers. In fact, in one of my other stores, a prime character is a professional courier.

Though you'd still need similar coverage: a storm that kills a third of the population of Iron Age Egypt is only killing a few million people, but it still has to hit the entire Nile Valley to be that lethal. The same storm today would kill vastly more.

Really, you're making my point for me. When the ancients said "Trumpet X will kill a third of the people, they meant a third of the people in their world, say 800,000 people. Still pretty grim. When I replace that with a superstorm that devastates the Nile Valley, its going to killa lot more people than that. So, lethality is actually much worse.

[Ryan Thunder]

By the way, a powerful daemon close up and concentrating on a single victim can punch through a tinfoil hat so protection isn't absolute

Right, just absolute enough not to matter most of the time.

[Simon_Jester]

Honestly, you could have tuned the extent of demonic/angelic telepathy up without it affecting suspension of disbelief, and it would definitely have given them a possible advantage that would have made the contest a bit more interesting (they would be marginally less hopeless if they had communication ability comparable to, say, WWII, with the unit-level comm specialists who could actually talk to HQ).

But I'm not really complaining, since I only just thought of this myself a few weeks ago.

[westrim]

Ah, so let me see if I understand this right, it's not simply a matter of looking at the original legends and trying to square them with known physical reality, the mechanisms must also be ... thematically appropriate to the era the material was written in? Like, the mountain thrown into the sea can't be an asteroid because the people who wrote Revelations wouldn't have known or imagined anything like weaponized asteroid deflection?

That's right; we're on the same page at last. The defining characteristic is "what would happen if the fundies were right and what was in the Bible started to come literally true. That defining characteristic compels quite significant constraints on the storyline. Also, it has to eb thematically consistent and it also implies that the daemons/angels etc are a static society. Because, if they kept pace with us they would have the same social imperatives as us and that implies their own faith in the supernatural/deities etc would be changed. At most, we would be back in something like Turtledove's Worldwar series.

As to the spinal cord thing ... I had a point by point response written up, but on second thought, I don't think I'll bother. Just one point of curiosity. Couldn't a demon project into the brain through the face from below? Or would the mass of bone and flesh in the way interfere with the signal?

Technically they could but to do it they would have to be prone, on the ground, at their victims feet. Somebody might notice. In reality where shielding is concerned, a semi-sphere gives pretty nearly complete protection. Next time you're near a warship, take a look at the shielding around its EW antennas.

PS By the way, a powerful daemon close up and concentrating on a single victim can punch through a tinfoil hat so protection isn't absolute

PPS Another by the way; look at the suit worn by the AA gunner on a Project 1241 missile boat to protect him from the ship's own radar. The head protection is a close-fitting semi-spherical cup of a foil like substance; just like the foil hats described in the story. So that's a very practical application of the same idea. If you're a good boy I'll tell you some stories about the time we took an ex-Soviet 1241 out and played with it for a few days. That was fun.

Really, you're making my point for me. When the ancients said "Trumpet X will kill a third of the people, they meant a third of the people in their world, say 800,000 people. Still pretty grim. When I replace that with a superstorm that devastates the Nile Valley, its going to killa lot more people than that. So, lethality is actually much worse.

Devil's advocation time here. First, you keep saying that you only have to partially shield something from EM to protect it and cite examples, but you keep failing to say why that is the case. By all means there may be a reasonable scientific explanation, but the idea seems to defy common good sense. Why can't a demon in front of your face or under your airplane control you if you've got your tin on?

Second, the idea that when someone wrote "a third of the people" will die, they meant "a third of the number of people alive today", not "a third of the people living in this plane of existence/ planet/ youknowwhatImean, whenever this prophecy get fulfilled" seems very odd to me. What is the basis for that assumption? If someone tells me that a third of the people will die- they don't know when it will happen, but probably soon, like the early Christians assumed- I'm going to presume they mean a third of the people at that time.

[Junghalli]

Also, it has to eb thematically consistent and it also implies that the daemons/angels etc are a static society. Because, if they kept pace with us they would have the same social imperatives as us and that implies their own faith in the supernatural/deities etc would be changed. At most, we would be back in something like Turtledove's Worldwar series.

I don't think taking high-power versions of the trumpets and bowls would imply they kept pace with us. Remember, it simply means they have the same capabilities they did thousands of years ago when those texts were written; exactly like it does in your version, only those capabilities are more impressive.

Most of my interpretations of the bowls and trumpets would could be squared with a non-scientific culture if you added one extra bit of magic: some kind of biomancy. You basically need a way for them to get the capability to do advanced genetic engineering without actually having to acquire the scientific knowledge needed to do it in a realistic universe. Then it becomes plausible that they can do stuff like make microbes that secrete toxins that poison the water and kill off ocean plankton. Given that we're already talking about a universe with magic interdimensional portals that lead to realms populated by human-shaped beings that can lounge around in burning tar for 500 years while regenerating constantly without nourishment as a form of torture I don't think that's all that ridiculous in context.

Incidentally, I did a face-value rationalization of the bowls. I know it probably won't be any use to you, but I figured I might as well do it for completeness sake if nothing else.

--------

Then I heard a loud voice from the temple saying to the seven angels, "Go, pour out the seven bowls of God's wrath on the earth." 2The first angel went and poured out his bowl on the land, and ugly and painful sores broke out on the people who had the mark of the beast and worshiped his image.

Obviously some kind of bioweapon. How effective it would be in the modern context depends on what sort of disease it is. It could be something that could be easily treated with modern antibiotics ... or it could be something like Ebola with a longer asymptomatic incubation period. It depends on what level of skill you credit Heaven's bioengineers with. It is interesting that it mentions painful sores but not deaths, it could be that it's not really a weapon but rather a sort of biological torture device, like the venemous insects in the trumpets, intended to inflict suffering but not actually kill its victims.

3The second angel poured out his bowl on the sea, and it turned into blood like that of a dead man, and every living thing in the sea died.

In the Salvation War Criticism Thread RedImperator suggested a poisonous bacteria that released a toxin that killed ocean plankton. I like the idea.

The third angel poured out his bowl on the rivers and springs of water, and they became blood. 5Then I heard the angel in charge of the waters say:
"You are just in these judgments,
you who are and who were, the Holy One,
because you have so judged;
6for they have shed the blood of your saints and prophets,
and you have given them blood to drink as they deserve."

Sounds like the same thing as the Second Bowl, or perhaps a freshwater variant of the same organism. If the bacteria releases a poison that's toxic to humans, and they really contaminate most of the world's large freshwater bodies with it ... yeah, that would not be good for us.

The fourth angel poured out his bowl on the sun, and the sun was given power to scorch people with fire. 9They were seared by the intense heat and they cursed the name of God, who had control over these plagues, but they refused to repent and glorify him.

Hmm, the implication is the sun actually becomes more powerful, but an easier possibility is global warming on steroids. God injects massive quantities of greenhouse gas into our atmosphere. Maybe nitrous oxide, it's supposedly 170-190 times more potent than CO2 as a greenhouse gas (ref), so even relatively small quantities could really mess up our climate, and it's apparently synthesized naturally by bacteria. You'd need truly massive quantities to effect a planet's climate like that, no doubt, but like the massive quantities of incendiary required for the First Trumpet it's more a difficulty of scale than anything else, and difficulties of scale can in principle be overcome.

The fifth angel poured out his bowl on the throne of the beast, and his kingdom was plunged into darkness. Men gnawed their tongues in agony 11and cursed the God of heaven because of their pains and their sores, but they refused to repent of what they had done.

As with the third of the sun eclipsed in the trumpets, doable by injecting large amounts of dark particulate matter into the atmosphere, possibly combined with some poetic license.

The sixth angel poured out his bowl on the great river Euphrates, and its water was dried up to prepare the way for the kings from the East. 13Then I saw three evil[a] spirits that looked like frogs; they came out of the mouth of the dragon, out of the mouth of the beast and out of the mouth of the false prophet. 14They are spirits of demons performing miraculous signs, and they go out to the kings of the whole world, to gather them for the battle on the great day of God Almighty.

Drying the Euphrates ... aside from dramatically altering weather patterns, I got nothing. Probably better to write it up to propaganda or corruption, and assume it just refers to the frog-like creatures. Well, if we borrow some elements of canon TSW, maybe put a big portal across the river and drain it into some uninhabited bubble world or something.

The seventh angel poured out his bowl into the air, and out of the temple came a loud voice from the throne, saying, "It is done!" 18Then there came flashes of lightning, rumblings, peals of thunder and a severe earthquake. No earthquake like it has ever occurred since man has been on earth, so tremendous was the quake. 19The great city split into three parts, and the cities of the nations collapsed. God remembered Babylon the Great and gave her the cup filled with the wine of the fury of his wrath. 20Every island fled away and the mountains could not be found. 21From the sky huge hailstones of about a hundred pounds each fell upon men. And they cursed God on account of the plague of hail, because the plague was so terrible.

Once again I'm not really sure how to rationalize this (now I remember why I did the trumpets instead of the bowls originally, they're easier to rationalize). Best thing I can think of without invoking magic is either a big bomb or an asteroid impact.

[Eevin]

As to the spinal cord thing ... I had a point by point response written up, but on second thought, I don't think I'll bother. Just one point of curiosity. Couldn't a demon project into the brain through the face from below? Or would the mass of bone and flesh in the way interfere with the signal?

Well, I suppose that if they can influence the neurons in the brain they can (theoretically) influence other nerves in the body. Now, I'm a biologist, so I don't know how the EM shielding works. Doesn't it covers a little more than the area immediately under it?

If it does that means that the nerve clusters from the eyes and ears will be protected (and probably the nose and mouth). So, that gives you only tactile hallucinations. Of course, that is still a dangerous weapon. A baldrick (or angel) serial-killer could make people's legs fail in front of cars. I feel sorry for the policemen investigating that case. But then, public offices, schools, cars and any big buildings are protected, so the damage you could cause would be limited.

If it doesn't, and you can get someone from underground, well it opens some possibilities. The sewers and the subway have too much concrete, so that ruins the possibilities. Airplanes and most cars are protected; specially airplanes, given 9-11, would be a high priority. So, you can get into peoples basements, but then (again) the damage will be limited. Also, we have to consider that if anything weird happens the first suspects would be baldricks.

So, a resistance movement could do some serious damage by killing key personnel trough tactile hallucinations, but it would have to be a very carefully planned operation. Personally, I think that the post-salvation war years will see a small insurgency in Hell (Belial) with some small attacks in Earth form time to time. They won't get Hell back, nor kill the human race, but they will drain a lot of resources. It will be ironic that instead of hearing of terrorist attacks in Middle Easy we will have terrorist attacks in Hell. So much changes, so much stays the same.

[darksoul]

Maybe the whole "third of whatever" doesn't have to be literal in-universe. I mean, already in universe the bible is just a book, so these are self-fullfilling prophecies. The only thing keeping the prophecies quasi-accurate is Yahwe expectations to it, and Michael's interest in humans associating the bowls with strict Divine Punishment to elicit an anger response.
I guess we can take a third as a "great amount" without much impact on the story or anything else...

[Gogyra]

Double post

[Gogyra]

Electromagnetic shielding is directional, which means that a cap could not provide total protection from an Outsider's mind control. However, since humans are shorter than nearly all Angels and Demons, a cap covering the upper hemisphere of the head should suffice for ground combat purposes. Since the signal is supposedly a weak electromagnetic signal, it would probably be blocked by the metal frame of an aircraft, too.

Somebody else who thinks electromagnetic radiation can turn through 90 degrees in mid air. Then how the hell do you explain how electromagnetic shielding for equipment on warships works? Take a close look at teh shielding installations, they look exactly like caps. That's where the idea came from.

I can't really say without having a picture of them (my google-fu has failed). I would imagine that the heavy metal hull is more than sufficient to provide a shield from the bottom, though.


The real question is, why should a shell that exists only in three dimensions provide protection against extra-dimensional influence? Since the signal has to travel along some higher dimension, shouldn't it intersect our 3-space at the target (i.e. brain) area? In order for the signal to enter our dimension from above and the proceed to the target's brain, the EM wave would have to somehow rotate to be parallel to our space in the higher dimensions once it got here.


Also how do greater demons contact people far away just by concentrating really hard? Is that more magic or did you think of a way that would work? Shouldn't they need to have a reasonable idea of what direction the other person is in, and have both of them be outside?

[CaptainChewbacca]

Regarding long-distance telepathy; Didn't we see Luga communicating with her mistress mentally in Armageddon?

[EdBecerra]

PPS Another by the way; look at the suit worn by the AA gunner on a Project 1241 missile boat to protect him from the ship's own radar. The head protection is a close-fitting semi-spherical cup of a foil like substance; just like the foil hats described in the story. So that's a very practical application of the same idea. If you're a good boy I'll tell you some stories about the time we took an ex-Soviet 1241 out and played with it for a few days. That was fun.

Maybe what they're referring to is "don't fire the mind-control down, colliding with the helmet, fire it up from underneath the chin and penetrate from below where the helmet doesn't protect. Or from directly in front of the eyes, where the helmet doesn't protect."

They appear to be treating the mind control like a gun versus a helmet. Fire at where the helmet is NOT providing coverage, in order to reach the brain.

Clearly, that doesn't work in this story, though it would make a fascinating point for a different one.

Ed.

[Edward Yee]

Lugasharmanska (LOL at getting that by memory) contacted Deumos with the assistance of D.I.M.O.(N.) technology, which during the "call" was also used to generate the portal through which a few Marines threatened Deumos (by appearing directly in her chamber) as a show of force.

[GrayAnderson]

...you know, I just saw something I missed the first time. Did Mikey really just think of putting a version of a "What the Butler Saw" machine at the celestial temple?

[Emerson33260]

The third angel poured out his bowl on the rivers and springs of water, and they became blood. 5Then I heard the angel in charge of the waters say:
"You are just in these judgments,
you who are and who were, the Holy One,
because you have so judged;
6for they have shed the blood of your saints and prophets,
and you have given them blood to drink as they deserve."

Sounds like the same thing as the Second Bowl, or perhaps a freshwater variant of the same organism. If the bacteria releases a poison that's toxic to humans, and they really contaminate most of the world's large freshwater bodies with it ... yeah, that would not be good for us.

The sixth angel poured out his bowl on the great river Euphrates, and its water was dried up to prepare the way for the kings from the East. 13Then I saw three evil[a] spirits that looked like frogs; they came out of the mouth of the dragon, out of the mouth of the beast and out of the mouth of the false prophet. 14They are spirits of demons performing miraculous signs, and they go out to the kings of the whole world, to gather them for the battle on the great day of God Almighty.

Drying the Euphrates ... aside from dramatically altering weather patterns, I got nothing. Probably better to write it up to propaganda or corruption, and assume it just refers to the frog-like creatures. Well, if we borrow some elements of canon TSW, maybe put a big portal across the river and drain it into some uninhabited bubble world or something.

These two would link nicely. If for some reason the Euphrates becomes one of the few major sources of fresh water that is not contaminated, it would become like the Colorado River, which in most seasons is completely siphoned off before it reaches the sea, or in this case merges with the Tigris. Yahweh once again getting credit for human acts committed in desperation.

[Erra]

To sum up the last couple of pages...

"WHY DIDN'T YOU WRITE THE STORY LIKE HOW I WOULD WANT IT BAWWWWWWWWWWWWWW"

To be fair, some (Ryan Thunder, etc) are doing just that while others (like Simon_Jester) are providing constructive criticism instead of just complaining.

[iidave]

He'd have to understand the answers and it won't help. His people saw tanks and artillery and didn't understand what they were or how tehy worked. Try and understand this, the mythology is bronze age. Now, try going back to that era and telling somebody how a jet fighter works. And have them understand you and get the implications of what you are telling them. It can't be done.

They only have to know that "big metal box on threads = dangerous, do not go near". But thats not the point here. You wrote Satan as an arrogant idiot and he acted like one. I'm just speculating about what would happen if Satan was smart and cunning.

In any case, you obviously havem't read the book because berserker raids are specifically written into the story.

Therefore if Satan was intelligent he would have sent more than just one berserker at a time and used them much more often.

Utter bullshit Are you being deliberately stupid or trolling?

Ask somebody who wears an aluminum hat IRL why he does so. I'm quoting the answer I got.

Somebody else who thinks electromagnetic radiation can turn through 90 degrees in mid air. Then how the hell do you explain how electromagnetic shielding for equipment on warships works? Take a close look at teh shielding installations, they look exactly like caps. That's where the idea came from.

I'm gonna have to go with "NO U" on this one. Demon is standing in front of you. The hat protects the top of your head and maybe the sides and back (depends on design). If you made eye contact there would only be your face between the demon's brain (transmitter) and your brain (receiver). Now tell me, how does the hat protect you then?

[Ryan Thunder]

To sum up the last couple of pages...

"WHY DIDN'T YOU WRITE THE STORY LIKE HOW I WOULD WANT IT BAWWWWWWWWWWWWWW"

To be fair, some (Ryan Thunder, etc) are doing just that while others (like Simon_Jester) are providing constructive criticism instead of just complaining.

Eh, I didn't think it'd be well-recieved by the fanboys.

[Erra]

To sum up the last couple of pages...

"WHY DIDN'T YOU WRITE THE STORY LIKE HOW I WOULD WANT IT BAWWWWWWWWWWWWWW"

To be fair, some (Ryan Thunder, etc) are doing just that while others (like Simon_Jester) are providing constructive criticism instead of just complaining.

Eh, I didn't think it'd be well-recieved by the fanboys.

Oh man, you're right. You've shown me the error of my ways. This story is obviously stupid because you say so and we should all really care as to wether or not you're going to continue reading it. Guide me further, oh self-important gasbag!

[Ryan Thunder]

Oh man, you're right. You've shown me the error of my ways. This story is obviously stupid because you say so and we should all really care as to wether or not you're going to continue reading it. Guide me further, oh self-important gasbag!

Yeah, yeah, whatever. God forbid Stuart would write an interesting storyline that doesn't need "We nuke GOD LOLOLOL" as a selling plot point to attract readers.

[Erra]

Oh man, you're right. You've shown me the error of my ways. This story is obviously stupid because you say so and we should all really care as to wether or not you're going to continue reading it. Guide me further, oh self-important gasbag!

Yeah, yeah, whatever. God forbid Stuart would write an interesting storyline that doesn't need "We nuke GOD LOLOLOL" as a selling plot point to attract readers.

This story started as a discussion about what would happen if Armageddon actually ended up happening in such and such a way, and why the humans wouldn't be totally fucked over as is typically the case with those kind of stories. It is an interesting concept and has been used to great effect in these novels. You seem to be seeing things through nuke colored glasses, however, because we didn't use any in Hell and have only used one in heaven, and obviously that has caused some controversy (readership, not in story).

Nobody really gives a fuck about your snippy little comments about why you think the story is bad. You're a waste of time, but I do love arguing with idiots, so please continue. You'll only make a further fool of yourself.

[Ryan Thunder]

This story started as a discussion about what would happen if Armageddon actually ended up happening in such and such a way, and why the humans wouldn't be totally fucked over as is typically the case with those kind of stories.

Right, because it has to be either we get totally fucked over, or they get totally fucked over. Good to know that there's nothing in between.

It is an interesting concept and has been used to great effect in these novels.

... Honestly? No, not really. Almost everything that had potential has been handled in the most anticlimactic manner possible. The angel of death comes to mind. Oh, and the red tide.

Nobody really gives a fuck about your snippy little comments about why you think the story is bad. You're a waste of time, but I do love arguing with idiots, so please continue. You'll only make a further fool of yourself.

What, you think I commented for your benefit, you irrelevant sack of shit?

[Stuart]

The Ultimate Temple, Heaven

Michael-Lan strode forward into the Temple. All about him, the people sang; he could feel the artificial ecstasy of the choirs of angels, of those few, fortunate saved humans. As he entered the Holiest of Holies, the thick marble of the temple walls drowned out the beautiful music outside; reduced to a dim glow, he focused his attention on the sight before him.

He knew the sight was supposed to awe him, every time without fail: the great white throne, with its flashing lightning and pealing thunder surrounding the giant figure who sat on it, the One Above All Others. Before the throne were the seven great, gold lamps, burning their ceaseless incense so that the clouds of scented smoke hung thick and hazy, the smell clinging to everything. Once, Michael loved it, for it appealed to his sense of the ridiculous. Now he’d just about had enough of it and of the pretensions of that throne’s occupant. There was one consolation to his chosen course, one way or another he would not have to visit this place after today.

At the four corners of the room stood the four living creatures, chanting their ceaseless cry: “Holy, holy, holy is the Lord God Almighty, who was, and is, and is to come;” and the twenty-four members of the Private Choir. They were ancient even by the angels' standards, and were constantly on their faces before the throne, murmuring, “You are worthy, our Lord and God, to receive glory and honor and power, for you created all things, and by your will they were created and have their being." Time was, their voices had outstripped even the living creatures in volume, but even here they were not free from time's ravages. An astute observer might look closely into their eyes and see the misery and despair there. Singing the same praises for untold millennia was not as heavenly as it sounded. Soon, their misery would be ended, one way or another.

In the back of the hall, Archangels were gathered around the Master Mason but watching Michael. They gauged his mood, was it good? Or bad? Was there going to be a thunderstorm and flying rock chips or a quiet and peaceful meeting. Did they need to buy tickets for the mason's bunker? Or could they save the gold? With more and more humans pouring into Heaven and occupying the land around the City, the prices of food and other supplies were already beginning to rise. Rise enough to make even angels careful with their money. They held their breaths as Michael-Lan made his entrance. What to do?

All right, here we go. The only thing left is to hope he gives me the one opening I need. Michael stopped in the middle of the lamps and knelt down on both knees, prostrating himself. He pressed his lips, still scarred from the times he had been exposed to human weaponry, against the cold, dark jade floor. As though sensing intentions, the four living creatures quieted, and the twenty-four elders' murmurs died to whispers. From the white throne, the voice of Yahweh thundered: “Michael, my good general, what news do you bring me?”

"Oh nameless one, Lord and God of all, I prostrate myself to your presence. I have to tell you that The Incomparable Legion Of Light has been utterly destroyed. It was wiped out within the blink of an eye. Your son is dead with hundreds of thousand of human levies and tens of thousands of angels beside him. Few survive the human firepower that destroyed them. Those that did are maimed and sick. A circle twenty miles across burns with the fires the humans created and the clouds of smoke darken the city and chills its air. All this they did with one weapon, with one blow of their fist. The warmaking ability of the humans has proved far beyond the capability of the fallen ones and beyond ours.

Yahweh was silent for a moment, then spoke. "They failed me. It was my irresistible will that they defeat the humans. How dare they not do so.”

You bastard. They died for you and that is all you can say about them? Not one word of regret for their deaths or gratitude for their service? Through his outrage at the casual dismissal of the Incomparable Legion's destruction, Michael-Lan felt his heart skip a beat. Yahweh hadn't failed him, he had the opening he was hoping for. All the maneuvering, all the scheming, all the corruption was about to pay off. That knowledge filled him with a strange, wild joy. It was all over, there was no more waiting, no more doubts. The final showdown was on its way. For good or for bad, it would end the way it would end. One way or another, the End Days had started. Michael looked up at the figure towering over him with nothing but contempt, then climbed to his feet.

"Oh, shut up."

There was a complete, awed silence from the crowd of spectators. Nothing moved, there was not the slightest whisper of sound. For the first time in countless millennia, the constant chanting from the Private Choir of 24 Elders was stilled. Their copper-colored skins, green eyes and silver hair were completely motionless as the unimaginable silence continued. The silence, so intense that it seemed to have a gentle hiss all of its own expanded and enveloped the hall. It wasn't just the three words that had stilled the echoes of millennia, it was the withering loathing and contempt with which they had been spoken. Nothing, not even the legendary final confrontation between The One Above All and the Morningstar, had ever come close to the undiluted malignancy of Michael-Lan's words.

The silence was broken by the panic-stricken whimpering of terror from the Archangels at the back of the hall. A whimpering of mind-numbed fear that swelled into a wave of utter, uncontrollable hysteria. The Archangels were screaming in horror as they tried to crowd into the bunker, pausing only to thrust all the gold they had into the hands of the Master Mason. Inside the walls, those who had decided discretion was the better part of valor complimented themselves on their foresight. They didn't really care what was happening as long as they weren't part of it. They were content to learn the truth as soon as the survivors decided what it was.

Michael-Lan watched Yahweh staring down at him. The great face was motionless, the eyes without expression or feeling. Suddenly, a flash of insight told him the truth. He can't believe it. He's had nothing but fawning adulation for so long, he literally doesn't know how to handle opposition. Or even to recognize it for what it is. He's completely lost.

"Michael, my Great General. . . . ."

"I'm not your anything. What I am is sick of your posturing and your self-importance. I'm sick of clearing up the messes you make and covering up for your blunders. You're a brainless, arrogant dolt who is drunk with unwarranted power and stoned on unearned adulation. You've caused millennia of grief and misery with your insatiable demands for worship. Now, you've pushed too far and the creatures you play your little games with have decided to hit back. Their worship of you is over, Yahweh. They've got a saying down there now, worship is not owed, it is earned. You've done nothing to earn their worship and you've done nothing to earn mine. So shut up and let me try and fix this mess as well."

"Michael, you go too far. . . . ."

"Oh no, no I don't. If I wanted to go too far I would call you a apogenous, bovaristic, coprolalial, dasypygal, excerebrose, facinorous, gnathonic, hircine, ithyphallic, jumentous, kyphotic, labrose, mephitic, napiform, oligophrenial, papuliferous, quisquilian, rebarbative, saponaceous, thersitical, unguinous, ventripotent, wlatsome, xylocephalous, yirning zoophyte." Thank you humans, I've been wanting to use that for years. That would be going too far. But I'm not going to call you that Yah-yah. I'm just going to point out that even Fluffy and Wuffles couldn’t stand the sight of you." Oh, that felt good. Millenia of repressed frustration bursting out at last. It suddenly occurred to Michael that he was enjoying this confrontation far too much.

It was the mention of Fluffy and Wuffles that did it. The suggestion that his beloved pets might have actually hated him combined with the uneasy recognition that the suggestion might be true caused Yahweh to snap out of his stupor. The rolling thunderclouds swirled the thick smoke that filled the Holiest of Holies and caused strange, exotic patterns to appear within them. Sheet lightning flickered across them as Yahweh started to lose his temper. In the earpiece that Michael was wearing, he could hear the bands in the Montmartre Club playing. He couldn't place the tune for a second then it clicked into place. The theme from the film "Dambusters". The bouncing march was just what Michael needed. Clever little humans. A good choice to start the game. Good film too, even if they didn’t get the name of the dog right in the History Channel version.

"Michael, you forget yourself. Your impertinence is intolerable. I strip you of your rank, authority and titles and order you to your estate, never again to enter the Eternal City."

"Drop dead." Michael-Lan's voice slashed across the Holiest of Holies, ricocheting off the walls and ringing in the ears of all present. "I have to put this mess right and I can't do it with you around. So get out of my way. But first, take your decree and stick it where the sun doesn’t shine." Will he even understand that? It just sounded so good, I couldn't resist using it.

There was an appalled silence. The Archangels watching finally understood that this was more, much more, than just a dispute between The Most High and the Great General. This was confrontation. A battle for supremacy, just as the one between The Morningstar and The Most High had been. The last time this had happened, the result had been The Great Celestial War and the great schism between Heaven and Hell. It slowly dawned on them that they were watching the most significant historical event imaginable. The Eternal Enemy had died under the lash of human weapons. Now, Michael-Lan was moving to take his place.

"You defy me?" It was less a question than a scream of rage and disbelief. Then Yahweh's voice dropped into a bewildered, near-whisper. "Why, Michael, my old friend?"

"Why? Because what you have done has put the whole Angelic Host at risk. Because your actions are no longer possible or acceptable in the world that is evolving around us. Because if we do not change, we will all be destroyed. Because we cannot change while you occupy that throne. So, yes. I defy you and will do so until you are removed from that throne, never again to have power on Earth, in Heaven, in Hell or anywhere else for that matter. Your day is done, Yahweh. Leave now before I force you to do so!"

"You force me?" The scream of rage was back, this time pitched high and loud. The gathering thunderclouds roiled and the sheet lightning gathered in intensity. Suddenly, it erupted in a white blanket of light, directed in a torrent against the figure of Michael-Lan.

He was waiting for it, this was what he had been expecting, how he had always known this confrontation would end. He summoned his own resources, carefully not drawing on those of his allies. Not yet anyway, although that would come. This battle would have to be carefully managed, he would have to expend his power grudgingly, using just enough at any one time. No more and very definitely no less. Michael-Lan was under no illusions about the situation, he knew that Yahweh had not gained his throne by being the creature he was now. He was an immensely powerful being, certainly far more powerful than Michael himself. Michael's edge was that he knew what that power was, where it came from and how it could best be harnessed.

Satan and Yahweh hadn't. They had a glimmering of an understanding but one that was so mixed up with their own pre-formed characters that the understanding had been corrupted beyond recognition. A psychotic sadist, The Morningstar had believed it came from the suffering of the creatures around him. The whole of Hell had been built around that belief with humans tortured in the pit so Satan could draw on their power. Not to boost daemons over the energy barrier to the next life as he had led his followers to believe but to energize his own control over Hell. Was there even a next life? Michael thought as he braced himself to resist the blast. He looked at the figure on the throne, a figure that was now seething with rage. Yahweh was a self-obsessed egomaniac. He had believed that constant singing of praise was the source of the power he could draw on. Oddly, he was closer, much closer, to the truth that the Morningstar had been. That was probably why he had done so much better and why Heaven wasn't as dysfunctional as Hell. It was music that was the key. It allowed different beings to synchronize their minds and that meant their mental power could be synchronized as well. Michael's great breakthough had been to realize that it didn’t matter what sort of music. Anything would do and if people enjoyed listening to it, then its effects were so much greater. That one realization had been the reason behind his nightclub and the gathering of the bands within it.

The blast came, enveloping Michael-Lan in a hurricane of white light. Even as it struck, Michael-Lan knew that it hadn't been intended to kill, merely to hurl him backwards against the walls behind him. Bad move, old fellow. When you decide to strike, don’t hold back. Go for the quick kill. Although I'm rather glad you didn't this time Michael had already concentrated his mind on resistance and his own clouds had gathered around him, the sheet lightning rippling in their shapes. The blast from Yahweh met those energy-charged clouds and the two merged, crackling and flashing, the stink of ozone saturating the atmosphere. Michael concentrated hard, feeling the pressure bearing in on him and carefully measuring out his own power in response. He didn’t need to stop the attack completely, he just needed to slow down its advance. Neither he nor Yahweh could maintain an assault indefinitely; as long as he held out long enough, Yahweh would have to rest. All he had to do was to stop the flood of lightning from reaching him.

He managed it although the effort left his head beaded with sweat. He had just worked harder than he had done for millennia and the sheer effort involved astonished him. Now, as never before, he realized how futile The Morningstar's rebellion had been. He had stood up to The One Above All on his own and fought him alone. He had never realized how important it was to have allied and that mistake had first doomed him then destroyed him. Did Yahweh realize how important his allies had been? That was one of the critical questions that ran through Michael's mind for all these years. It had only been when he had started to kill Yahweh's allies off and watched how little Yahweh really cared about them that he had had his answer.

Michael-Lan watched the flickering displays of sheet lightning change from purest white to vivid multi-colors as Yahweh's fury built up. Michael-Lan knew he had already won a victory simply by surviving that first blast of power. He had shown that Yahweh could be fought, that he could be resisted. That knowledge could never be undone and, if the Angelic Host survived when Michael did not, somebody else could build on his example and challenge Yahweh again. Whatever else happened today, yahweh's era of unchallengeable rule had just ended.

"You shall not defy me!" Yahweh's scream echoed around the room, mixing with the constant roll of thunder that dominated everything else. Those astute enough to listen and knowledgeable enough to know what to listen for would sense that there were two storms filling the room, each with its own timbre and resonance. Then, the steady roll of thunder changed to a flat, vicious crack as a multicolored lightning sheet burst out from one storm and again tried to envelop Michael.

That blow was meant to kill. No doubt about it. The preliminaries are over, the real fight has just begun. The realization formed in Michael's brain as he poured power into the storm around him, watching his own lightning display shift from white to multicolored as it merged and blended with the bolts from Yahweh. He felt the immense pressure, saw the sheet of energy pressing in on him and realized just how outclassed he was by the figure on the throne above him. He could resist this blow, he could see his own lightning balls were holding fast, but for how long he could maintain this effort was another matter. For the first time, his mind reached out and locked into the network he has so painstakingly created. Across the city, Angels were listening to the massed bands playing in the Montmartre Club, their minds locked into synchronization with his own by the rhythm of the music. Many didn’t even know that they were part of that network, all they knew was that the entertainment supplied by Michael's club had added variety and joy to a heavenly eternity grown stale. But the network was there and Michael made his first tentative withdrawals from it.

Not to defend against the assault that pressed in on him for Michael's own resources had that under control no matter by how small a margin. Instead he used the energy margin he had just gained to hurl an energy blast at Yahweh himself. It was a weak and feeble blast compared with the storm that was engulfing him but nobody before had ever directly attacked Yahweh. Not even The Morningstar had done so, not even at the height of their battle. Enraged by resistance, Yahweh was hurling his power into the attack on Michael and had left himself without a defense in place. Despite its weakness, Michael's pure white blast struck Yahweh and pushed him backwards into his throne. The success was momentary only, black clouds of thunder gathered around The One Above All and his sheet lightning brushed aside Michael's feeble attack. And yet Michael counted it as his second victory and this one was a victory on two counts. The attack had forced Yahweh to divert energy from the attack on him to Yahweh's own defense and the pressure on him had slackened. Michael had learned something else, Yahweh's energy management skills were not that great. He had used far greater force against Michael's weak attack than he had needed to. While Michael was measuring his energy expenditure with an eye-dropper, grudging each tiny packet of use, Yahweh was being profligate. There was no reason why he shouldn't be, he had always had such a massive supremacy over his opposition that there had been no need for learning the virtues of economy of force. Michael, on the other hand, had read books by humans on strategy.

The second reason why Michael counted the exchange a victory was that he had actually struck at Yahweh. Just the way his survival of the first exchange had shown Yahweh could be defied, now the second had shown Yahweh could be attacked. A blow struck at him could succeed. In the part of his mind that was concentrating on the battle now being waged, he felt the pressure subside. The second great surge had ended. Michael-Lan was under no illusions, these two battles had been skirmishing only. He and Yahweh had tested their powers and now they both new exactly the magnitude of the task that they faced. The only questions that remained were, had Michael killed enough of Yahweh's key supporters to reduce his power to manageable levels? And did Michael have enough support to compensate for his own inferiority to Yahweh? The vicious battles to come would answer that.

Michael took the opportunity to glance around the room. It was still, appearing empty with the Archangels taking cover behind anything solid. The walls were chipped and blasted, the damage far worse than anything he had seen in Yahweh's tantrums. He simply had not been aware of how much damage the combined lightning storms were doing. Then, his eyes caught the 24 Elders in Yahweh's private choir. They were silent also, just standing and watching Yahweh. Their leader turned and his oval green eyes met with Michael's clear blue. The Elder smiled sadly then he reached up with his two-thumbed hand and drew it over his mouth in the traditional "zipped shut" gesture. Whatever else happened, the Chorus was silenced and with it Yahweh had suffered his first major loss.