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Authors: Kenneth Zeigler

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BOOK: The War in Heaven
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Through it all, Nikola Tesla had been Tom’s guide, in much the same way he had been Bill’s before him. Through this incredible communications link that joined Heaven and Hell, Tesla taught, guided, and encouraged his new students. It had taken trials and failures, small successes and disappointments, 12 to 15 hours a day, but Tom was progressing. He could create metal and even plastic-like objects to given specifications; and at this point, they had the rigidity and strength of the real thing. The patterns of their atoms were predictable and repetitive. Now creating them was easy. But when it came to circuitry, he was falling short. Its intricacies were just too daunting. They required a tremendous amount of concentration.

He had tried in vain for over two weeks to assemble complex circuitry. It seemed as if he had reached the limits of his potential. But today it looked like he was on the threshold of a breakthrough.

Bill turned back to Julie. “Remarkable. I could never even come close to this level of precision when I was on the machine. I think he’s got it.”

Yet, he had spoken too soon. A minute later, the newly formed wires became uneven, then breaks and twists appeared. Tom looked up, and the phantasmal screen and glowing orb vanished. What lay on the table was a small partially completed integrated circuit, singed at the one end.

“I’m sorry, I couldn’t go any farther,” said Tom, removing what looked like a crystalline headpiece from his temples. “I’m exhausted.”

“You got farther than you ever did before,” said Julie, trying to be as encouraging as she could. “I for one am proud of you.”

Tom looked at Julie and smiled slightly. “I appreciate your positivity… really. The thing is, I never tried as hard as I did today. I just kept pushing, but eventually my head was pounding I just couldn’t go any farther. I was at my limits.”

Tesla nodded. “It’s not your fault, Dr. Carson. People who do what you do in Heaven are surrounded by the power of God’s Holy Spirit. It permeates their very being at all times. You are only exposed to a pale imitation of it when you are here in this room. It is a bottled version of the real thing. I think it is laudable that you have brought the science of transmutation as far as you have. Perhaps it can’t be done here.”

“Maybe he could do it a little bit at a time,” suggested Julie, “and then, after he takes a bit of a break, continue.”

Bill shook his head, “No, you have to do it in one sitting. The substrates will not align perfectly if you don’t. The circuit might look nice, but it won’t work.” Bill turned to Tom. “Do you feel like you might be able to go farther, once you’ve had more practice?”

“Maybe,” said Tom, “but it is going to take a long time. My accuracy is improving but my endurance, my mental stamina is not, at least not that I can see. I’m sorry. Isn’t there anyone else here who can do this?”

“I can,” said Bill, “so can a few others, but none of us are even remotely as good with this machine as you are. I tried for three months, but I just couldn’t pick it up. We can make simple things, and we do, just not the complex, not circuitry.”

Tom shook his head. “Hell is a big place. Surely, there must be someone here who could make this work. What about one of the angels, maybe Abaddon or Lenar?”

“Angelic brains just aren’t wired like ours,” replied Tesla. “God gave this ability to humans and humans alone.”

“Look, I can fabricate the body of the weapon, even the fiber optic cables. We just need to find someone to produce the electronics.”

There was a long silence. Tom scanned the room then focused upon Bill, who had a strange contemplative expression on his face. “You know of someone, don’t you?”

“There might be one,” confirmed Bill. “I knew her a long time ago, a most remarkable woman, Victoria van Voth.”

“Victoria van Voth?” objected Tom, “Oh, you’ve got to be kidding, Bill; she was a crackpot.”

“I won’t argue that she was disturbed,” said Bill, “nonetheless, she was positively brilliant and gifted in ways I don’t even pretend to understand.”

Julie shrugged. “I’m sorry, I guess I missed something. Who is this Victoria van Voth?”

“A real anomaly,” said Bill.

“A real fruitcake,” interrupted Tom.

“So who was she?” repeated Julie.

“She was a psychic, a real psychic,” continued Bill. “Back in the late fifties and up into the seventies, both the KGB and the CIA were on the lookout for people who could do remote viewing.”

“Remote viewing?” asked Julie. “What’s that?”

“Well, it’s seeing places thousands of miles away in their minds, without ever being there,” replied Bill. “Now I know it sounds incredible, but there are people who can do just that. From a young age Victoria could do it, and much more. Back in the early sixties, at the age of sixteen, the CIA put her on their payroll. They practically kept her under lock and key for a dozen years. She would never tell exactly what she did for them, but when she left the CIA in 1975, they were not happy. Apparently, she had been one of
their best weapons against the communists during the cold war. They put her through school, all the way through her doctorate, bought her fancy things…but it wasn’t enough. She wanted to live her own life.”

“I can see that,” said Julie. “It must have been hard being locked away like that.” She paused. “I know; Satan did it to me for twenty-three years.”

Bill nodded. “I think we can all imagine it. You know, I actually saw her spin a compass using nothing but thought, and she had other powers that were absolutely unearthly.”

“Sounds like you know an awful lot about her,” noted Julie.

“You might as well tell her, Bill,” said Tom, who couldn’t help but smile.

“We were friends…close friends, for a time. We both championed unpopular ideas in the scientific community. I suppose I saw her as a kindred spirit.”

“Your ideas were controversial,” noted Tom, “hers, on the other hand were downright crazy. She talked about alternate realities, communicating with the dead, and ethereal time travel … really wild stuff.”

“Is it?” asked Bill. “Think about what you’ve seen these past months. Do you still think it’s crazy? Anyway, she was tormented, claimed she was hearing the thoughts of people all around her. She never had a moment of peace. I, for one, believed her.”

“Then why didn’t you choose her for this job?” asked Tom rising to his feet. He now seemed openly annoyed. “She died, what…eleven years ago? She’s probably right here in Hell.”

Bill hesitated. “You go too far, my friend. Yes, she is here. But if you must know, she was my first choice. It was where she was being held that was the problem. Getting her out would have been difficult. It almost certainly would have involved taking her out by brute force. It was too much of
a risk. We were not ready for a direct confrontation with Satan’s forces, not ready to show our hand, so we chose you, our second choice.”

For a moment, Tom was stunned. He hadn’t anticipated the conversation to go in this direction. “So, if you’d been able to get her, I’d still be on the altar, food for the birds?”

“Yes. I’m sorry, Tom.”

Again silence ruled the moment. This time it was Julie who spoke up. “So, what do we do now?”

“We get Victoria here…we find a way,” said Tom. “Believe me, I don’t like the idea, but I don’t see any other choice. If there is a chance she can pull this off, I’m in favor of it.”

“It is not my place to comment on issues that might place your people at risk,” said Tesla. “But I concur with Dr. Carson’s opinion.”

Bill looked at the others. They all seemed to be in agreement. “Then we need to take this to Abaddon, emphasize the need for this particular rescue mission. I know that he won’t like it, but we have no other options I can see.”

“I guess I really don’t understand,” admitted Tom. “Where is Victoria that makes this mission so difficult?”

All eyes turned toward Bill. He turned and walked to the wall before turning around. “She is in the Valley of Noak, about nine hundred kilometers into the daylight zone. It’s not a particularly hot region of Hell, but it doesn’t have to be, all things considered.”

Again there was a pause. Then Tom and Julie noticed the tear in Bill’s eye. “I’m sorry. I always have trouble talking about this. You see, she was more than just a friend to me. I loved her. But she left me long ago. She had needs that I just couldn’t satisfy.”

“You don’t need to do this,” interjected Julie.

“No,” replied Bill, “I do. There is a place there with a steep sheer cliff, a hundred meters high. It is called the Plunge of Desolation. Men and women, thousands of them, their ankles shackled, are paraded up from the valley floor in a great dismal procession, along a trail that snakes its way through a narrow side canyon. It is a difficult and rocky trek requiring just over an hour and a half. Demons of the most hideous kind, hundreds of them, see the poor victims along the way at the business end of a whip. Eventually their victims are at the top of the cliff overlooking the desolate valley. From there they are compelled to throw themselves down. If they are lucky, they make the plunge without hitting any of the jagged rocks along the way. They end up as mangled and broken lumps of flesh on the valley floor below.”

“How ghastly!” exclaimed Julie.

“But that’s only half of it,” continued Bill. “Once they strike the rocks at the bottom, they must somehow crawl out of the path of the next victim, who is surely not far behind. It is a virtual rain of human flesh that falls upon the blood-soaked rocks. Then, at the whips of their demon taskmasters, they are compelled to crawl back up the canyon to complete the eternal circle. Within ten minutes or so, most of them have healed sufficiently to rise to their feet and hobble and stumble up the path again. Usually their bodies are not fully restored until they have nearly completed the trip to the top, and, as you know, the regeneration process is in itself painful. So it goes on forever, without rest or respite.”

“But what crime did they commit?” asked Julie.

“Their crime?” repeated Bill. “The name of the place tells it all—the plunge of desolation. They are homosexuals and lesbians. Their physical act of expressing love cannot possibly lead to conception, thus it leads to desolation. It is an act of futility, so they are condemned to an eternal act of futility … climbing to the top of a cliff, only to cast themselves to the ground, again, and again, and again.”

“My God,” said Tom, “only Satan would be so perverse.”

“Victoria’s female lover is there with her,” noted Bill, “at the very same place, experiencing the very same fate. They both died of AIDS complications within a few months of each other … a strange irony. Now they will be together forever.”

“A grim tale indeed,” noted Tesla shaking his head. “I can see how hurtful, how very difficult this is for you, Dr. Wong. Please accept my condolences.”

“Thank you,” said Bill, returning to the table with the others. “We’ve done all that we can do for one day. The rest of you should get some rest. I will see that this situation is brought to Abaddon’s attention. The final decision will be his.”

“I’m sorry, Bill,” said Tom, as he prepared to make the trip back to his quarters. “I really didn’t know that you and Victoria had been so close. I really shouldn’t have said what I did.”

“That was a long time ago,” replied Bill. “Over thirty years. Victoria and I drifted apart as time went by. I hadn’t seen her in over five years when I learned of her death, but I still cried. Funny thing the human heart … funny thing.”

“So how do you get her out of that place?” asked Tom.

“I have an idea,” said Bill “but I don’t want to discuss it until I talk to Abaddon. I’ve been going over it in my head for weeks; and I just about have it figured out.”

Tom placed his hand on his friend’s shoulder. “If there is anything I can do…”

“You’ll be the first to know,” assured Bill. “Now go get some rest.”

Bill stood at the door of the lab as Tom made his way home. For a moment Bill seemed deep in thought, then he was on the move. There was
a lot to be done. “I’m going to get you out of there, Vikki,” he said under his breath. “I promise.”

 

A group of four humans and four dark angels gathered around the great table in Abaddon’s audience chamber. Still more watched the proceedings from Heaven through the telesphere. The atmosphere was tense. Everyone knew what was at stake.

“You all know when this operation was first proposed two months ago that we looked for a place from which Victoria van Voth might best be extracted,” explained Kurt Bellows, their tactical officer and former U.S. Marine. He drew the gathered assembly’s attention to a hand-drawn map on the table.

“The demon taskmasters require their human victims to walk in an orderly procession on a trail leading from the bottom of the cliff, through a canyon, along a ridge, and ending up at the top of the cliff. Along the trail from the valley to the pinnacle of the Plunge of Desolation the victims pass through a narrow and twisting stretch of canyon with sheer rock walls. Their demon taskmasters only infrequently patrol this section. There is no need. There is nowhere for their victims to escape to. There are, however, several places where large fallen rocks could conceal the gating in of a small extraction party. Dressed in a manner like the victims, so as not to arouse suspicion, members of this party would await the arrival of Ms. Voth. Then we would step out and grab her. Following which, we would reform the portal and gate out once more. The whole operation would take, at max, two minutes. If we have good intel, the risks would be minimal.”

BOOK: The War in Heaven
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