Free The War in Heaven by Kenneth Zeigler Page A

for days without a break. After that, they welcome the quiet solitude of the lower caverns. You’ll be working down there.” Bedillia pointed to a long wide corridor to the left. “That is where our labs are.”
    “Labs where you folks are involved in manipulating matter with your minds?” deduced Tom.
    Bedillia nodded. “But it’s not as simple as it sounds. We need your help.”
    “You said that before,” said Tom. “I didn’t think it would be simple. But what value would there be to building things with your mind?”
    “Because without it, we have no chance of defeating Satan. We can’t produce all the materials we need for the coming conflict if we can’t do that. We can’t build factories to produce what we need, we can’t conduct mining operations for the minerals we require; we lack the manpower.”
    “So you think you’re going to make this pie in the sky technology work and save the day? Bedillia, I don’t want to dash your hopes, but even if you had the best minds on Earth working on the problem 24-7 with a world of resources at their disposal, it might take a century or more to perfect such a technology.”
    “Tom, you are so negative,” scolded Bedillia. “We’ve already developed the technology. It works; we just need help refining it. We need you.”
    By now they’d reached another wide corridor that branched off to the left. A pair of formidable metal doors guarded the entry to this rocky hallway, but they were open wide. Like all of the subterranean corridors, this one had large glowing crystals in the ceiling as light fixtures. However, these had a distinctly blue hue, compared to the yellow ones Tom had previously seen.
    “This is where the dark angels live,” explained Bedillia. “The doors are usually open, but the dark angels tend to be a bit solitary. They prefer that we humans respect their privacy. That is where you will find Abaddon.”
    “Can we go in?” asked Tom.
    “Sure…we just don’t want to overstay our welcome, that’s all.” Bedillia entered the blue corridor, and Tom followed. “The color of the crystals is to remind us that this is their home—their special place, not ours.”
    “They don’t have something personal against humans, do they?” asked Tom.
    “No, of course not,” replied Bedillia. “In time, you will come to understand the angels. They are, well, different. They don’t think quite the same way we do. Oh, they like us, really they do. In fact, they are somewhat paternalistic when it comes to humans. It’s just that they prefer to interact with each other. It is really tough to get close to one of them.”
    “But you have,” observed Tom, who hoped that his observation wasn’t too personal.
    Bedillia looked over at him, but briefly. “Yes, I have, thanks largely to my daughter. She had a very special relationship with the angels, a very rare relationship. I’ve sort of inherited that standing. You see, Abaddon is not one for making speeches, so I become his spokeswoman when communicating with the human population here. I also become the spokeswoman for their concerns.”
    “Sounds like an important position,” observed Tom, as they passed a dark angel in the corridor, who offered a friendly smile, but little more.
    “I suppose,” was the reply. “My title is counselor. I take it seriously. I’d never betray Abaddon’s trust, his faith in me.”
    A left turn, brought them to a partially open metal door, and behind it Tom could hear voices. They spoke a strange language that Tom had never heard before.
    “This is Abaddon’s audience chamber,” whispered Bedillia. “It sounds like they are discussing important business. I really don’t want to barge in on them right this minute.”
    “You understand what they are saying?” asked Tom, in a hushed tone.
    Bedillia nodded. “They are speaking in the universal language of the angels. It is the language of all angels in Heaven, as well as the dark angels here.”
    Tom drew