Prologue
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Prologue
And the Lord said unto Satan,
Hast thou considered my servant Job?
That there is none like him on Earth?
A perfect and upright man…
Then Satan answered the Lord, and said …
Put forth thine hand now,
And touch all that he hath,
And he will curse thee to thy face.
.
Job 1:8-11
.
Galactic Standard Date: 155,525.07 AE
Ascended Realms
.
The two old gods crouched over the spinning Milky Way galaxy; forever locked in a game they called Galactic Chess. So they had done since time immemorial, god and the devil, using chess pieces to move their armies on a galactic scale.
The elder of the two, an enormous red dragon, picked up a black pawn representing some hapless mortal.
“Black pawn to E-8—"
Shay'tan moved the piece and watched, eagerly, for his grey-bearded opponent's reaction; his tail twitching like a cat.
"White rook to—awwwhh!" the Eternal Emperor Hashem made a half-hearted move and yawned.
Shay'tan captured the piece and stared down at the world which was now, technically, his.
“Does something trouble you, old friend?" he craned his neck across the chess board. "You seem rather lethargic lately. Are you ill?”
“I don’t know.” Hashem grabbed a second white pawn. “Things have been going so well since we signed the Armistice over Earth.”
“Things have been rather dull, lately—" Shay'tan picked up another black pawn, one of zillions. "Nobody warns you how tedious eternity can be when you become a god?"
The two ancient adversaries stared at the chess board, united in their complete and utter boredom. For three thousand years, their empires had been at peace. Shay'tan flared his leathery red wings.
"Perhaps we could start a border war?"
"My subjects will never stand for it!" Hashem waved his hand with disgust. "You give them free will and what do they do? They vote you're nothing but a ceremonial god!"
"We get no respect!" Shay'tan belched a puff of fire. "People used to be afraid of the devil. But now? They make you the hero of a paranormal romance novel!"
Hashem smirked. "Dragon-shifters again?"
"Yeah." Shay'tan's scales turned a deeper shade of scarlet. "It makes you long for the good old days when they prayed for us to go after one another."
"What we need is a war of wits," Hashem said.
"Something intellectually stimulating?"
"To pit our armies against one another and prove which god is right!"
"Thousands of planets mobilized, all praying, to us, for victory!" Shay'tan exclaimed.
“Epic battles!" Hashem grabbed a handful of chess pieces. "With Moloch on the prowl!”
"Ay-yee!!!" Shay'tan touched his forehead, snout and heart. “Don’t even -say- that name! It’s all Lucifer can do to keep the bastard locked up in Gehenna!”
Hashem snorted.
“I told you to never mention that name again!”
"Who? Moloch?"
"No! The other … name!" Hashem crossed his arms in front his chest.
Shay'tan picked up a black bishop and examined it. A prince. His prince ever since Hashem had spurned the piece and cast it off. Much to Hashem's chagrin, he shielded Lucifer from his wrath because he owed someone a debt, and everyone knew a dragon always paid their debts.
“Lucifer is your son," Shay'tan said softly. "Isn’t it time you forgave him? It could have been one of us Moloch seized.”
“Never!” Hashem waggled his finger at Shay’tan’s snout. “This is the one and only time I will admit you were right! No good deed goes unpunished!”
“True.” Shay’tan toyed with the black bishop. “But there was nothing altruistic about your raising Lucifer to be your son.”
“I raised that boy as though he were my own!” Hashem slammed his fist down upon the chess board “—and he thanked me by trying to steal my empire! He should be the one locked up in Gehenna!”
Shay'tan raised one eyebrow-ridge with a bemused expression.
“For a god who preaches forgiveness, you sure know how to hold a grudge.”
Hashem turned away, his arms crossed. A rare scowl marred the face he took great pains to manifest as a kindly, fatherly one.
“I’ll tell you what—” Shay’tan banished the black bishop back to where it could do no further harm—Earth. “Let’s pick a random subject and bet on how they'll react to something. Whoever bets the closest, wins?”
Hashem rolled the white pawn he'd been toying with between his thumb and forefinger.
“Wins what?”
“How about that resource planet we keep squabbling over?" Shay'tan's snout turned up in a fang-laden grin. "If I win, you'll let me pillage it. If you win, you can see what naturally evolves."
Hashem tossed the white pawn into the air and caught it; his bushy eyebrows furrowed in thought as he examined the map of the galaxy.
"Who will we bet on? And what will we get them to do?”
“Why not that pawn you're holding?” Shay’tan pointed to the chess piece. “Who does that represent, anyway?”
“Oh? Hah!” Hashem's bushy eyebrows rose with delight. “That's a young scientist I’ve been nurturing! His mother is a fierce proponent of natural evolution.”
“What would happen if you sidetracked him from the science academy for a year and stuck him in the military?” A knowing grin lit up Shay'tan's snout. “Get him out of the ivory tower, so to speak. I’ll bet you that planet if you throw him into the real world, he won’t be so hands-off.”
“He’s just a boy.” Hashem studied the pawn. “Barely sixteen cycles. I’ll need to send him to basic training first so he doesn’t get himself killed.”
“You’re his god—” Shay’tan rumbled. “Tell him you're sending him on a secret mission to Earth?”
“Earth?" Hashem glanced at the accursed black bishop. "You know the terms of the Armistice. No one goes in, and no one comes out unless they ascend out of there on their own power. Even if we agree, Lucifer will never stand for it."
"You're entitled to one observer," Shay'tan said. "Pull your regular guy out, stick your pawn in, and then one year from today our wager will end. Lucifer will be none the wiser."
Hashem toyed with the little white pawn.
"I don’t even know what’s going on there right now," Hashem grumbled. "Human behavior baffles my observers and the General is too busy to babysit them.”
“Why it’s war, of course!” Shay’tan smirked. “Warlike little buggers, those humans. The Phoenicians wage war against the Carthaginians; the Carthaginians battle the Sicilians; the Sicilians harass the Romans and the Romans are at war with the Phoenicians. "
“So we’ll, what?” Hashem said. “Pick a war? Drop our guy into the middle of it? And tell him he can’t interfere?”
“Exactly!” Shay’tan's eyes sparkled with excitement. “The first thing that bothers him enough to report back to his commanding officer, you’ll order him to observe it, but not to interfere. No matter what! If he breaks protocol, I win. If he lets the subject go down in flames, then you win.”
Hashem looked down at the pawn. A budding scientist who would one day further the interests of the Alliance. A young man with a unique genetic profile he had gone through unprecedented lengths to procure. A subject who might be tainted by the knowledge he'd been forced to come out of his ivory tower and eat his hat when it came to humans and the malignant deity imprisoned within their home world; knowledge both emperors had gone out of their way to erase from the history books and deny.
On the other hand, he felt so bored he wanted to scream…
“It’s a bet,” Hashem said. “White pawn to Zulu-3.”
He plunked the little white pawn down into the middle of the chess pieces guarding Earth.
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