Chapter 1

Yahweh

--- 3,100 Years after the Holy Nuclear War ---

On a cold gray morning, tall waves of grass brush against a peach orchard that surrounds a large polygon-shaped home. Blue light streams out from the second-floor bathroom window and fades into the mist.

Inside the bathroom, a sleepy Professor Yahweh Tabbris slowly shuffles over to a tall black glass holomirror. He can only assume a crooked stance this early in the morning, what with cigar smoke and whiskey from the previous night with Raphael still swirling in his stomach. No doubt a cruel joke from that fat man!

The holomirror flickers, goes dark then finally lights up to show an exact 3D image of Yahweh along with a flashing medical alert- BP:195 over 90.

Once again, unable to get a good night’s sleep, the forty-two-year-old quietly sighs. It has been four days since he last went to the lab. Yahweh unfurls his arms in front of the panel’s sonic soother to quiet his nerves and blood pressure; maybe tomorrow.

Tomorrow . . . or maybe the day after. Yahweh slides his hand across the pepper-gray stubble on his face then stares down at the floor. It can’t be avoided. He’ll have to meet this new university dean at some point.

New? Not really . . . They started out from the same school many years ago, but that guy took a different path. A slick one, covered with hazy, sugar-coated, dog whistle code words, not meant to be understood by all. And that ministerial fever of his generated a fervid following . . . so very different from Heaven’s dispassion. Now that movement, once well contained, has swelled. No, it can’t be avoided . . . have to meet him at some point.

Yahweh stares at his image in the holomirror, which seems to add the new dean’s image next to his . . . bigger, better, more respected and harder to resist. His proselytization almost worked last time. Now, he’s here and will certainly pick up where he left off. He wants to meet with me. Why me?

The holomirror flickers then goes black.

Yahweh explodes with a fist against the darkened mirror. “Shit! Why Me!”

A sharp crackling sound comes out from behind the flat holomirror.

Yahweh slowly reaches over with his forefinger to investigate. Didn’t strike the damn thing that hard. As he does, static electricity jumps from his finger to the darken holomirror. The fixture suddenly glows brightly, once again showing an unshaven face and slouched stance.

Yahweh straightens up with a jerk, smiles back at his image and mumbles, “So, looks like I can bring this back to life too.”

Please Allow Me to Introduce Myself

On the Great Scientific University campus, ten-story-high laboratory buildings sit within bowl-shaped glass structures that squat like half-buried pearls in the grassland. Here, new ideas grow like weeds within the white walls and sculpted stone columns of these scientific hothouses, which look more like steeple-less cathedrals than research labs.

On the seventh floor of one laboratory building, Yahweh peers into a miniature 3D holographic image that glows on a table before him. Wavy images of static electricity dance in a column of air above the holographic platform. They merge and form a bright blue blob of electromagnetic energy.

Yahweh smiles as he eases the controller forward.

The blue blob begins to move toward the left side of the view platform. Spiny threads of light, deep blue in color, arc from the ball’s surface as it slides over to a holographic image of a black box and disappears inside.

A voice booms over his right shoulder. “What is that?”

Yahweh knocks his thumb against the controller. The disturbance nearly ruins the computer simulation.

Miffed at the intrusion, Yahweh refuses to turn his head. But his eyes strain against the edges of their sockets, then drop as they settle on the broad shoulders of a tall man cloaked in a black vestment that shivers all the way down to his shined shoes. Can’t avoid it any longer.

“Please allow me to introduce myself,” the intruder begins. “I am Professor Lucifer Deville, the new dean of the Quantum Thermodynamics Department and vice chair of the Ancient Religion Department.”

“Yes,” Yahweh says, with eyes fixed back to his work. “We met before.” Then he turns to eye the glossy red lining inside the tall man’s black cape. The getup seems theatrical—this is a university, not a bullfighting arena.

Professor Deville gazes back with dark, pupil-less eyes. Finally, after a delayed recognition, he nods with a deep, “good to see you again.” Then his eyes suddenly shift to the replayed holographic images of the black box as it swallows the blue magnetic lightning ball. He motions to the experiment and rumbles again. “What is that?”

Yahweh leans away then takes a breath. “It’s a device that can hold migrating electromagnetic fields generated by humans.”

“Hmm . . . I have heard of this work of yours. You think those magnetic fields have something to do with a human’s essence?”

“That’s right,” Yahweh says.

“It is called a soul,” chides Professor Deville.

“I know.”

“Well, at least you recognize that which Korbibtor gave us all.”

Rumors continue to swirl up and down the campus halls about this “Professor” Deville—a scientist who also leads a religious cult. Religion, here in Heaven? How can that be? But as Yahweh’s father always said, “Forget your history and you’re bound to repeat it.” Everyone on campus seems to have an opinion. Most think religion has no place in Heaven anymore. But the tall man’s growing shadow suggests otherwise.

Yahweh heaves in a heavy breath. Staying home for seven days to avoid this guy obviously wasn’t long enough. Lucifer must have been waiting in the lab all the time! Now, he’s inspecting the computer simulation! Like he’s trying to find something wrong with it. Yahweh’s stomach growls at the incongruity before him.

So, Yahweh faces the tall man . . . a living paradigm of Heaven’s cantankerous coadunation, like opposing poles on the same magnet . . . and continues their argument started so long ago. “How can you be a scientist and a preacher at the same time?”

Lucifer sighs. “You spend your entire life searching for the secrets of science that Korbibtor created. But that is something your soul already knows. You should not waste the time Korbibtor granted you. Praise him instead. So, my interest in science is purely coincidental. It helps me to navigate within our society since everyone is expected to love science like a foolish child takes to simple magic tricks.”

“Science is not magic. It’s a rational explanation for the world around us.”

“Yes, the world around us. Korbibtor gave us these things, you know.”

There he goes again! “Uh, there are other points of view.”

“But only one truth.”

“Trying to convert me again?”

“Just want to save you, brother.”

“With irrational explanations?”

“The same can be said about science. But Korbibtor, not science, created everything around us: the trees, the birds, the planets, the stars—”

Yahweh interrupts, “and fear, bigotry, groupthink, sacrificing nonbelievers and . . .”

Lucifer interrupts the interruption. “Those things happened to people who could not see the wonder that Korbibtor is. He has given us order from randomness. He protects us from our enemies. He offers us a way of life that is peaceful and fulfilling.”

The syrupy gospel seeps into Yahweh’s teeth, right down to the nerve. “That’s the greatest bullshit story ever told!”

“No, it is a promise of salvation and grace.”

“Hum-hum.”

“A picture of peace and harmony.”

“Peace and harmony?” smiles Yahweh. “Where only certain people can see or hear Korbibtor and everyone else should do as they say?”

“Yes, Korbibtor gave us holy men.”

“You mean shamans, priests—and politicians.”

“To ensure his commandments are properly interpreted.”

“So, Korbibtor help you if you didn’t follow these holy men because there were plenty of zealots who were only too happy to kill nonbelievers, even if they died in the process.”

“They were commanded by Korbibtor.”

Yahweh’s eyes roll as Lucifer continues.

“They know that the faithful serve as Korbibtor’s tools. That is the only way they can ascend to sit at his right side in paradise, a land filled with milk and honey.”

“So that excuses suicide bombers who walk up to you—and go boom? That was a good thing, eh?”

Lucifer’s eyebrows furrow. “That can happen when you threaten Korbibtor’s way of life. Sometimes we have...