And it came to pass
When the children of men had multiplied
That in those days were born unto them
Beautiful and comely daughters.
And the angels, the children of heaven,
Saw and lusted after them,
And said to one another: '
Come, let us choose us wives
From among the children of men
And beget us children.'
Book of Enoch, Book 1 – Watchers
Galactic Standard Date: 152,323.06 AE
Neutral Zone: Sata’an/Alliance Border
S.R.N. Tsalmaveth
Prime Minister Lucifer
Lucifer
His two Angelic guards glowered at the 'honor' guard of a half-dozen Sata'anic soldiers who met them in the launch bay of the S.R.N. Tsalmaveth, royal flagship of Sata'an Royal Navy. Shay'tan, of course, would never lower himself to travel in such mortal squalor. Why twiddle your claws for days on end traveling from one end of the Empire to another when you could break down the molecules in your physical form into pure energy, teleport the whole shebang to your destination with a mere thought, and then reassemble yourself any way you liked, right down to what color scales you wished to manifest that day? Shay'tan had long ago relegated the ostentatious flagship to his number two henchman, Ba'al Zebub.
Any other escort would have oogled the gold-tiled hallways, inlaid with rubies and other precious stones, but not Furcas and Pruflas. The two goons Zepar saddled him with glowered at the Sata'anic lizard soldiers with sullen expressions. Their icy stares turned to disgust as they entered the bejeweled royal conference room where Ba'al Zebub sat waiting on an ornate chair that had been permanently placed next to an even larger one. The six lizard soldiers genuflected to the empty throne and murmured whispers of 'Shay'tan be praised' even though the old dragon wasn't even on the ship. Lucifer wondered if Shay'tan had ever even sat on the empty chair, or if it had merely been built for show? The latter, he suspected.
“Prime Minister Lucifer,” Ba'al Zebub exhaled with a hissing voice, the best approximation of the Angelic language the Sata’anic races could mimic. “It's a pleasure to meet with you again."
Sata'anic lizard people tended towards portliness, especially the ones in the upper echelons of their society. An unconscious desire to emulate their emperor and god, Lucifer suspected. Shay'tan, of course, could assume any shape he wanted, but he preferred to manifest his form to mortals as large as could possibly sit in whatever room he graced without sitting down upon one of his subjects. If portliness was a sign of godliness in the Sata'anic Empire, than Ba'al Zebub was a titan, for Shay'tan's mouthpiece was so obese that his scales had long ago worn off the soft, pale underside of his chins and the rolls of fat which overhung his bejeweled, pointy-toed slippers.
“This had better be worth the trip." Lucifer's wings twitched with annoyance. He was fending off another migraine and not in the best of moods. “Do you have any idea the risk I take travelling into the neutral zone? That bitch Jophiel has been climbing up my ass with a microscope!”
Lucifer regarded the Sata’an Empire's highest-ranking emissary with distrust. They'd done much business together over the years, but Ba'al Zebub would sell him out in a heartbeat. Excepting Ba'al Zebub, most Sata'anic lizards were remarkably similar to the hybrids in how they moved and fought. Their retractable claws and fangs were built-in weapons, while their tails provided an extra fighting limb. Good at seeing in the dark, their main disadvantage was they were no faster than any of the other naturally evolved species which occupied the galaxy.
Lucifer tossed a pen into the air, caught it, spun it through his fingers, flipped it into the air a second time and caught the point of it with one finger so that the writing implement balanced perfectly upon the sharp point. It was a simple feat of agility even an Angelic infant could accomplish. A reminder to Ba'al Zebub that even though their political positions were similar, Lucifer was a superior being. Ba'al Zebub's gold-green eyes narrowed at the little demonstration, but the lizard-man grinned rather than take the bait.
“I think you will agree it was worth the trip once you see what I have to offer." Ba'al Zebub's forked tongue tasted the air for the pheromones which allowed the Sata’an to pick up on other people's emotions. “Our benevolent Emperor has sent you a little … gift.”
Ba'al Zebub signaled one of the guards. The guard disappeared out of the posh meeting room, painted royal blue to denote his rank with gold leaf stenciling as was Sata'anic custom. Moments later, he came back with two other guards, dragging an ebony-skinned humanoid between them.
“What is this?” Lucifer's wings perked up with curiosity.
“You tell me?" Ba'al Zebub’s fangs bared in a pleased grin as he invited Lucifer to examine the merchandise.
Lucifer walked around the frightened young woman and touched the back of her ornately jeweled dress where wings should have erupted from her back, but didn't. His grip on reality had been a bit tenuous lately. His eyes saw, but his brain refused to process the reality of what stood right in front of his eyes. He pinched the bridge of his nose, doing his best to appear disinterested, and tried to signal Zepar that he was having another one of his episodes and needed him to take up the slack.
“Sire,” Zepar's wings shook with excitement. “This is the root stock the Eternal Emperor used to create his hybrid armies!”
Okay … the migraine now included his Chief of Staff. Perhaps it was time he resigned so he could go get his head examined?
“The root stock has been extinct for 74,000 years." Lucifer feigned contempt as he battled that strange feeling he often got before a blackout that everything was far away. “An asteroid hit Nibiru and wiped out all life."
To be certain he wasn’t hallucinating, he pinched himself. The pain came. The pain went. White flesh refilled with pink where he'd squeezed it together. A dark-skinned, wingless Angelic still stood before him. He glanced at Zepar, relying on him to make sure he didn't tip off Shay’tan’s number two henchman that he was going bonkers.
“Their new homeworld lies within the bounds of the Sata’an Empire,” Ba'al Zebub gestured to the dark-skinned female. “Hashem ceded that territory during the war with the Nephilim. At the time, he'd twelve other seed colonies to experiment on.”
Hashem had always blamed the loss of the human homeworld on Shay'tan and the fact the old dragon had lost control of the species who used to make up his armies. Moloch had riled the Nephilim into rebelling and attempting to seize control of the Sata'anic Empire for themselves. The two emperors had been forced to unite and wipe them out, every last Nephilim man, woman and child, but during that time Hashem had been too busy fighting to save his Alliance to put any real effort into helping what few humans had survived the destruction of their homeworld to settle into their new colonies. By the time the dust had settled, humanity had gone extinct while Shay'tan had pulled a new species out of his bag of tricks to act as his minions, the Sata'anic lizards.
“All attempts at reseeding the human source race failed." Centuries of practice as a politician enabled Lucifer to convincingly say one thing while something entirely different screamed through his brain. He was hallucinating. He must be hallucinating! He was seeing unicorns. Pink elephants. Humans…
“This colony was Shay’tan’s doing,” Ba'al Zebub grinned. “Murderers, thieves and prostitutes. Shay’tan bet the rejects Hashem left behind to die would kick his genetically pure breeding stocks tail feathers, and he was right!”
“So why hasn’t Shay’tan revealed this tidbit before now?" This time, the twitch of contempt from Lucifer's wings was not aimed at Ba'al Zebub, but his own father.
“The human rejects were so violent,” Ba'al Zebub said, “that Shay’tan lost interest in them and left them to fend for themselves. Like he did with the Tokoloshe. He offered to sell Hashem a few at a tidy profit once it became obvious your people were dying out, but the Eternal Emperor is too high and mighty to swallow his pride.”
/>
Lucifer knew the propaganda by heart. It did, however, have the ring of truth. His father would cut off his nose to spite his face when it came to admitting Shay’tan was right about something.
“You can expose your father for the hypocrite he really is!" Zepar rubbed his hands together. “If his subjects lose trust in him, it will force the old fool back into the ascended realms where he belongs and you can regain control of the Alliance.”
“I enjoy tweaking my father's nose as much as Shay’tan does,” Lucifer said. “But I'll not betray him.”
“But he has betrayed you,” Ba'al Zebub gave a laughing bark. “Your species is going extinct and what has he done to help you survive? Nothing! He has replaced your people with bugs!"
Lucifer was unable to refute Ba'al Zebub’s argument, although with the migraine he'd been fending off all morning, it was hard to tell if it was because the slithery henchman was right, or Lucifer's brain was simply too jumbled to think straight. Everything had that eerie penumbra that he always got just before he began to see double.
“How do I know this human is even genetically compatible with our species?" Lucifer redirected the conversation out of treasonous territory. “It has been 74,000 years since their species was lost and 150,000 years since Hashem first created the hybrids. That's a lot of time for genetic drift to occur.”
“Ahhhh….” Ba'al Zebub laughed. “You have unearthed Shay’tan’s motivation for gifting you with this female. You know better than anyone that the old dragon never gives gifts without strings attached.”
“What’s the catch?” Lucifer asked.
“Why … we want you to test her out for us, of course,” Ba'al Zebub poked Lucifer in the chest. “Shay’tan heard about your little … problem. If she conceives, he will know your species is still genetically compatible. The old dragon likes knowing exactly how valuable his chess pieces are before he plays them against your father.”
“My problem is none of your godsdamned business!" Lucifer got touchy whenever anyone rubbed his inability to sire offspring into his face. “How sentient is she?”
“Meh … so-so." Ba'al Zebub waved his hand to indicate 'not so much.' “In the 74,000 years since their homeworld was lost, Leviathans gained space travel. Meanwhile, humans regressed backwards into a stone-aged culture.”
“Great! You want me to bugger an animal and produce defective offspring." It wouldn't be the first time Zepar had advised him to seduce a non-Angelic to achieve some purpose, but even he drew the line at fucking a non-sentient creature.
Zepar pulled him aside and tried to reason with him. “Sire … the hybrid races were never designed to be free-standing. Hashem used to periodically reintroduce fresh blood from the root stock to prevent inbreeding. That's why we are having so many problems now.”
'Sometimes you must make sacrifices for the greater good…'
“She is anatomically identical to an Angelic female,” Ba'al Zebub pointed to the terrified female's curves. “Our tests indicate no signs of the genetic flaws which prevent your species from reproducing.”
“What matters, Sire,” Zepar said, “is that your esteemed colleague has prevailed upon his Emperor to gift you with the first sample of this merchandise.”
Whether or not it's fully sentient is irrelevant. All that matters is that you can beget sentient offspring upon it…
Lucifer paid heed to that small, pragmatic voice, the one which was never wrong. Now that he'd adjusted to her unusual coloring, he had to admit the woman was striking. He reached out to touch her high cheekbones, her skin so dark she reminded him of the rare painting his father had of He-who's-not, the Guardian of the universe. The woman cringed, tears streaming from her large brown eyes.
“What’s with the dress?" Lucifer touched the heavily jeweled Sata’an wedding dress.
“Shay’tan doesn't approve of your hybrid female's loose morals,” Ba'al Zebub grinned. “Hatchlings fare better when they are the product of a proper marriage, not the peculiar mating arrangements your father has engineered in a pathetic attempt to make your people loyal to him instead of each other. Our benevolent Emperor is formally gifting her to be your wife in the same manner in which he gifted me all thirty-two of my wives.”
“You didn’t say anything about marriage!" Zepar's dirty white wings shook with anger. “Hashem forbids it! The Prime Minister’s unique genetic profile is too precious to waste on a marriage which may or may not result in offspring!”
“Ahhh,” Ba'al Zebub hissed so pleasantly it was almost a purr. “But that's the condition Shay’tan has put upon receiving her. The human homeworld is in Sata’an territory. If you want access to them, you must respect our traditions.”
“My father will have an apoplectic fit if I marry." Lucifer's joyful scheming beat back his headache. “Especially one of his precious root stock. It might be worth it just to see the look on his face when I show up at a press conference and announce I have found the solution to our problem."
As the Emperor's adopted son and a second-generation Seraphim, it had always been questionable whether or not the hybrid anti-fraternization laws applied to him. Once before, in the Emperor's absence, he'd considered rolling the political dice and carving out an exception for himself. The Bitch! His plans had died on the vine along with her rejection, but his mind began to race about new ideas to gut out the anti-fraternization laws for all hybrids. If the Emperor was abandoning his species to go extinct, then it was up to him to help them survive.
“No marriage!” Zepar insisted. “The Prime Minister has to set an example for the other hybrids.”
“Nothing in Sata’anic culture prohibits the taking of more than one wife,” Ba'al Zebub said. “Why … Shay’tan has nearly four dozen wives in his harem. If she doesn't produce fruit, he will even let you return her.”
'She is the solution to all of your problems…'
“We timed this visit for the female’s peak fertility cycle,” Ba'al Zebub added. “You can have your answer within three days.”
For once in his life, the kind little spirit that whispered in his right ear was in agreement with that small, nasty voice which whispered in his left. He would do whatever it took to ensure the survival of his species.
“Please convey to your emperor my gratitude for this gift,” Lucifer moderated every aspect of his physiology to convey the proper respect and gratitude. “If she is what you say she is, perhaps we can come to a more … lucrative … accommodation?”
“Let us know how it goes." Ba'al Zebub exposed his fangs in a pleased grin as he rubbed his plump claws together and schemed about all the ways he could extract 'commissions' from such an arrangement. “If she sets fruit, we can discuss terms for the next shipment of mail order brides.”
Lucifer walked over to the terrified woman and held out his hand. “It appears we are to be married."
He knew the female had no choice. Sata’an females never did have a say about who they married, but he hoped she would choose marriage to him over going back to whatever Stone Age planet humans had been abandoned to die out on. She couldn't understand his words, but he hoped his appearance was similar enough to her own, compared to the reptilian Sata’an, that she would come willingly. He would explain the rest to her later, after he'd a chance to teach her his language.
“I'll take good care of you.” Butterflies flew in Lucifer's stomach at this small act of rebellion against not only his father, but also Zepar. “I promise. You'll like the modern world."
The female searched his eyes. Her hand trembled as she took his outstretched hand. A feeling of joy made his heart flip-flop in his chest. He smiled down at her as Shay’tan’s priest read the vows, already envisioning the future they would have together. Him. Her. And their attractive black-skinned, white-winged children. Or would that be white-skinned, black winged children? One of each? Yes! He would beget hundreds of offspring upon her, each child more magnificent than the one before.
Zepar turned an interestin
g shade of purple as the Sata’anic priest pronounced them husband and wife. Lucifer couldn't wait to see the expression on his father's face when he found out not only was he married … to a human … but that he'd done so in his adversary’s name. Hah! All he had to do was keep things quiet until he'd figured out how to prevent the Emperor from retaliating by snatching her away from him.
“May the blessings of Shay’tan smile upon your union,” Ba'al Zebub said. “And may she bear you many, fine sons. Her fertility cycle ends in the next day and won’t re-emerge for another 28 days, so I recommend you don't waste any time.”
Lucifer forced his feet to remain on the deck of Ba'al Zebub's ship instead of fluttering down the hallway as he shepherded his new wife down to the launch bay. With a snarled dismissal, Zepar stayed behind to argue with Ba'al Zebub in private. Lucifer felt a perverse thrill of pleasure at annoying the controlling Zepar. What was his problem? This development was good for everyone! Not for the first time, he wondered whose interests Zepar was really looking out for? His? Or his own?
“Hello, my wife,” Lucifer touched her hair and relished how coarse and curly it felt compared to the silky tresses of an Angelic . “Do you have a name?”
“Tafadhali,” the woman nervously glanced out the hatch at the Sata’an lizard people standing guard outside his shuttle. “Mimi nataka kwenda nyumbani."
He had no idea what she said, but it appeared to be a legitimate language. The Sata’an bridal outfit hid her figure, but she had curves in all the appropriate places. Ba'al Zebub knew better than to lie about the merchandise he traded.
“You have no idea what just happened, do you?" Lucifer took her hand and squeezed it. He prattled on, as nervous as a cadet. “You'll be the first female I've ever had to woo completely on my own. Zepar has always set these things up for me, you know? I'm not even sure you'll respond to my ‘gift’ if you're not able to understand my language.”
“Tafadhali,” the woman pleaded. “Kuchukua yangu nyumbani.”
“Will you stay with me once you no longer need me, my wife?" Lucifer used his gift to send an image of the question which had been in his heart with every female who had ever started to catch his fancy before Zepar made him come to his senses. Can you see me? Can you look into my eyes and see my soul?
“Tafadhali wala maudhi kwangu,” the ebony skinned female trembled. “Nitakuwa tiifu Mke Kama huna kunidhuru.”
He could detect the subtle pattern of longings which his gift enabled him to see underlying the speech in all sentient creatures. She was frightened and she wanted to go home. If not fully sentient, she was close. With training, perhaps he could pass her off as a fully sentient race instead of an emerging one? He didn't want to be the laughing stock of the Alliance, but then again, his people were so desperate for a solution to their problem that they would overlook a whole host of shortcomings in the root race so long as they were able to reproduce.
“You have beautiful eyes." He touched her cheek, amazed at how her skin could be so dark and yet feel so much like his. “I see the features of the Centauri in your face. Their skin is not nearly as dark as yours, but darker than my own. Are they descended from your people?"
He projected an image of a caramel-skinned Centauri mare into her mind as he spoke, wondering if she understood. The female got a puzzled expression, tilting her head as she reached up to touch first his temple, and then her own. Did she really understand that he could communicate telepathically? The Emperor had always led him to believe the ability was one he'd engineered into the hybrids ... and then eradicated when he discovered the ability was linked to defects lurking in the Seraphim bloodline. Was the ability innate?
He touched her cheek. Caressing her chin with his finger and thumb, he leaned in and gave her a kiss. She didn't respond with the heat-enhanced hunger of the Angelic females during mating appointments, but she didn't reject him, either. She reached up to touch the leading edge of his wings, her eyes round like an owl's as she realized they were real.
Lucifer shivered under her caress. He felt like he was the cadet about to be fucked and he looked forward to it. Yes. He would wait however long it took for her to want him. This one would be different.
Zepar scurried into the ship and ordered the pilot to get the hell out of there, giving him a disapproving look.
“I'm sorry, Sire,” Zepar said. “I had no idea he would make such a ridiculous demand! If I had known, I would have refused to even schedule the meeting.”
“Like hell!” Lucifer said. “Look at her! She bears the genetic features of the Centauri. If my father tries to quarantine her, I have legal grounds to prevent it. She's my wife!”
“It's a pre-sentient farm animal,” Zepar said. “A tool to solve a problem. Don't allow yourself to get attached to it.”
“Screw the consequences,” Lucifer said. “I'll do as I see fit.”
“Of course you will, Sire,” Zepar said. “But you heard what Ba'al Zebub said. She is only fertile for the next 24 hours.”
'You must mate with her as quickly as possible…'
“He also said her heat cycle is only 28 days,” Lucifer said, “not the two years or more between Angelic heat cycles. She doesn't understand what I'm saying, so my gift won't work. How can I woo a female who has no idea what I'm saying?”
“She is little more than a trained monkey,” Zepar said. “Don't read more into her behavior than is really there.”
“After 225 years of shooting blanks,” Lucifer said, “I'll risk taking a few weeks to get to know my new wife before I throw her down upon the bed. I've had my fill of meaningless sex! Planned or not, I have every intention of enjoying her!”
“You're falling into Shay’tan’s hands,” Zepar warned.
“I just made a deal with the devil,” Lucifer said. “Let me enjoy the up side of having sold my soul to Shay’tan before my father rains down his wrath upon me!”
The migraine which exploded inside of his skull felt like a white dwarf going supernova inside his brain. He staggered, pain forcing him to sit down. He gripped the bridge of his nose and squeezed, breathing through his mouth to prevent himself from vomiting.
“Wewe ni sawa, Mume wangu?” the female reached out to touch his forehead. Her eyes went round with fear.
“Migraine,” Lucifer whispered. “I get them a lot.”
“Nyeusi uchawi!” she hissed. She turned towards Zepar, holding her hand in some sort of sign, fingers folded in and index and pinkie finger pointed towards him. “Mimi naona katika mchawi nafsi yako, na kuona kwamba wewe ni mbaya! Ibilisi!!! Ibilisi!!! Wangu hadithi ya watu Je, Ubaya Mnyama, na mtakuwa kushindwa." She moved to stand between Lucifer and Zepar.
“She's just a pre-sentient farm animal,” Zepar crooned, his voice almost hypnotic in its reasonableness. “A means to an end.”
'Think of how much power you'll garner amongst the hybrid armies if you can to gain access to more of these...'
“Of course,” Lucifer said. Zepar always made sense.
“Ba'al Zebub trained her to act like a sentient creature,” Zepar said in a calm voice. “Of course she appears to be sentient because she's your distant ancestor. But she is no more sentient than the funny little creatures Hashem keeps in his genetics laboratory.”
'She is just breeding stock...'
“Just breeding stock,” Lucifer said.
“It's critical that you impregnate her as quickly as possible, Sire,” Zepar said, the voice of logic and reason. “Think of how much power you'll gain once you have living proof these humans are the solution to their problems. They'll have no need for the Emperor anymore. The Alliance will be yours for the taking.”
Darkness crushed in upon his brain from every angle, stealing his ability to command his body to move or even think. It felt as though he were being buried alive. That small, nasty voice grew louder, taunting him for his weakness. He couldn't longer see what was standing right in front of him and Zepar's voice sounded as though it were far away.
&nb
sp; “I ... I need to lay down...” Lucifer whispered.
The crushing migraine made the world go black.
Chapter 51