Part 41 (1/2)

The emerald light ring appeared to be some sort of communion among the angels, the sharing of a common source of energy. They seemed to feed off it and were strengthened by it.

I, too, felt it. A penetrating thrum vibrating every inch of me. Even with the demons present I felt warm and comforted and a.s.sured and accepted. And I wondered if maybe despite all my misgivings, somehow I was going to survive the night.

Then the emerald ring of light began to pulse with greater and greater frequency. As it did the angels grew in stature . . . eight feet . . . ten . . . twelve feet tall, looking like human pillars.

The ring grew ever brighter until it was dazzling white. The pulsing increased in pitch. It began vibrating in my head, hurting me, resonating with greater and greater intensity. I placed my hands against my skull to keep it from exploding, but the force kept building. I screamed, but it didn't help. The pressure was becoming too much for me to bear.

I felt my knees buckling and would have dropped to the ground, but a blast of light beat me to it. It hit me with force, knocking me to my knees. As with the emerald light, it began with Abdiel-a powerful, concentrated shaft of light-then continued around the circle, twenty-four angels, twenty-four shafts of the purest white light I'd ever seen. The beams focused on the center of the circle, where they met a short distance above my head and formed a single pillar of light that shot skyward as far as the eye could see and beyond.

I could take it no more. On the gravel, my eyes clamped shut, clutching my head, curled into a ball, I screamed for it to stop. The pain was so intense, I would have given anything to make it stop. I would have welcomed death.

I couldn't hear my own screams. Then, that was all I heard. The thrum was gone. The pain was gone. I risked opening my eyes. The shafts of light were gone too.

Twenty-four angels now clothed in dazzling white looked down at me lying in a fetal position in the mush-pot.

I struggled to my feet, brus.h.i.+ng gravel from my pants, and noticed that my clothing, too, had been bleached white.

The angel with granite features spoke. ”Until tonight no human has ever witnessed a convocation of angels.”

He wanted me to be impressed, humbled. Maybe it was the headache and the ringing in my ears, maybe it was the ceiling full of demons licking their chops, and the renewed realization that at the pleasure of this august body I would soon be joining them, but whatever the reason, I couldn't help myself. I said, ”I'm all aglow.”

Granite angel's response was swift. An invisible fist reached past my lapel and into my upper chest, fastening onto my windpipe, cutting off my breath, forcing me to my knees.

”ENOUGH!”

A second invisible hand broke granite angel's grip. It was Abdiel. I could breathe again. But another threat quickly surfaced as a scuffle broke out with me in the middle.

”I SAID ENOUGH!”

The tower trembled with the force of the voice.

Both sides backed away.

”I will not tolerate this human's insolence,” granite angel boomed. ”It disrespects the lives of the warriors we lost today.”

”Both sides lost friends today,” Abdiel replied.

”And why? Because of him!” Granite angel's finger singled me out in case anyone had any doubt. ”He isn't worth it.”

”I agree. He isn't worth it,” Abdiel said, a little too quickly for my taste. ”But if we fight we will lose only more friends and deepen our sorrow.”

”Let's be done with it, then,” granite angel said.

Semyaza took that as his cue. He stepped forward. ”Grant Austin, do you understand the purpose of this tribunal?”

I was rubbing my throat, though it did little to ma.s.sage the pain, which was much deeper. My voice was raspy when I spoke. I cleared my throat and tried again. ”I am here to declare my allegiance,” I said. ”But before I do, I have a request.”

The circle crackled with dissension.

Before anyone could deny the request, I stated it. ”I would like to ask if my grandfather, Azazel, is present. If he is, I'd like to meet him.”

”He is.”

The voice came from near the middle of the rogue-angel side. To my relief, it wasn't granite angel.

Azazel resumed normal size and stepped forward. I turned to meet him, not knowing what I would do or say. I hadn't planned this. The thought had just occurred to me and I acted on it.

The being standing before me was attractive by any standards, with sparkling eyes, a strong jaw, and confident presence. He reminded me of Douglas Fairbanks, or any number of das.h.i.+ng leading men of the black-and-white film era.

I wondered what he thought when he looked at me, his grandson. Was he proud? Ashamed? Indifferent? I couldn't tell from looking at him.

How did I feel when I looked at him? It was hard to say. If it wasn't for him I wouldn't be alive. But then, if it wasn't for him, I wouldn't be condemned to live for eternity as a tormented demon.

Looking him in the eye, I said, ”A few moments ago, I was blamed for what happened today, for the loss of life, both angel and human. But it's not my fault, is it? It's yours. Everything that happened today happened because you couldn't control your l.u.s.t.”

Within seconds of Lieutenant Noonan's rockets. .h.i.tting the bridge, a tsunami of phone calls. .h.i.t the San Diego Police Department. Now, after midnight, things were finally beginning to calm down. Marie Klesko, an attractive, single woman in her twenties, slumped in her chair, having survived a month's worth of activity in one s.h.i.+ft, coordinating police units with fire and federal agencies as the city stepped to the brink of panic and threatened to jump.

With the activity on her computer screens looking almost normal again, she antic.i.p.ated the end of her s.h.i.+ft and driving home to her apartment, where she would make herself a bowl of nachos, play with her dog Beelzebub, and watch old episodes of Friends.

With only ten minutes remaining on her s.h.i.+ft, the weird calls started coming in. She dismissed the first calls as pranks. But the calls kept coming. Unhooking her headset, she walked to the window. The fourth floor provided her with a panoramic view of the city.

”What's up?” Her supervisor came up behind her.

”I'm getting crazy calls about the Emerald Plaza.”

”What kind of crazy?”

”That there's some sort of green thunderstorm on the top of one of the towers.”

”Thunderstorm? It's a clear night.”

”Yeah . . . so how do you explain that?”

In the distance they could see the Emerald Plaza. The top of the tallest tower was capped with smoke that pulsed with a green light.

”Should I send someone to investigate?” Marie asked.

”That's really weird,” the supervisor said. ”I've never seen anything like it.”

”I hate sending someone after everything that's happened today. Besides, what do I tell them? Investigate a possible atmospheric disturbance atop the Emerald Plaza?”

The supervisor cracked her gum. ”Send Sharki,” she said. ”He's into weird.”

Once again I found myself kissing gravel for my insolence. Once again a scuffle of heavyweights threatened to steamroll over me.

There had been a time in my life when I thought that if I ever found angels to the left of me and angels to the right of me I'd be in heaven. But that was before I learned heaven's gate was locked to me and n.o.body had a key.

Once order was restored I was back on my feet in the center of the circle. I felt like a man alone on a bridge surrounded by twenty-four FA-18 Hornets.

”You have a statement to make,” Semyaza snapped.