The Hacker's Encyclopedia 1998/hackers_encyclopedia.iso/zines/extra/tanj0065.txt

Text File | 2003-06-11 | 15.9 KB | 282 lines

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     OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO" .OOOOOO OOOOOo      OOOO OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO
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            OOOO oOOOO      ""OOOO OOOO       "OOOO       OOOOOO

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|                            There Ain't No Justice                           |
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|                                     #65                                     |
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                               - Rage of Angels -
                                   by Tal Meta


The man was young/old, and dark. Dark clothes, dark hair, complexion, the
works. He looked out over the dusty plain while the wind whipped tiny dust
devils into existance and snuffed them out just as quickly. "Tomorrow that
plain will be littered with dead," he thought to himself, "and with any
luck, I won't be one of them."

Out of nowhere, an Angel appeared in the sky overhead. It sang a song of
fury at the man, but he leveled his uzi at it and fired. The Angel dodged
frantically, but the gun had more than enough bullets in its extended clip
to track and burn the Angel. After it had crashed to earth, he walked over
to where its sprawled form lay. His booted foot kicked it squarely in the
skull, smashing what passed for bone into pulp. He pried the sword from its
hands before turning away. "Waste not, want not." he thought to himself.

When he simply appeared in the War Room, nobody was suprised. He had a way
of doing that, and the others had become accustomed too. All around him,
preparations were being made for the battle that would be fought the next
day. While they all had different names for the coming fight, they all knew
what it really amounted too... Armegeddon. Video monitors mounted to the
walls showed the progress of the two sides slowly approaching the
battlefield, humourously depicted in Black and White, they represented the
forces of Evil, and the forces of Good.

The dark man didn't have a name. Or at least, if he did, he told it to
no-one. He dressed simply enough, in dark colors, mostly charcoal greys.
Tomorrow, they knew, he would wear blue. When they spoke of him at all,
they called him Freedom, for that was what he was fighting for. Aside from
the uzi, he bore only one other weapon... a large two handed sword strapped
to his back.

He took his newly won Angel sword and gave it to an attendant. It would be
given to one of his soldiers for the battle the next day. In his mind, he
reflected that this was one battle that was DEFINITELY not going to go off
as planned. After the forces of Jeshua and Satan had finished smashing each
other into pulp, another army, fresh and well rested, would take the field
and polish off the survivors. His army.

And when the battle was done, no matter how it came out, he would face the
opposing survivor, be it Jeshua or Satan, and raise his sword against them.
The Sword of Michael. The only weapon that could kill a Greater Angel. Or a
God. At least, he surely hoped it could kill a God.

Dawn came early to that fated plain. The forces of Satan pressed their
attack, but the forces of Jeshua gave back as good as they got. The skies
were full of flying shapes, Angels and Demons, who struck at one another
with swords. By midafternoon, the plain was littered by the dead and the
dying. The sides appeared perfectly matched.

Jeshua stood upon a low hill, flanked by a pair of Seraphim. As foretold, a
sword protruded from his mouth, and he used it with amazing speed. Any
Demon that dared approach was instantly decapitated, to fall, burning, at
the base of the hill. Freedom, watching the progress of the battle from
another hill, counted seven bodies smoking at the bottom. The honor guard
surrounding Satan, who carried a ruby rod, had dwindled to just five
Arch-Demons. Satan did not appear to be doing much fighting himself,
Freedom guessed he was saving his strength for Jeshua.

By late afternoon, the sides had dwindled amazingly. A mere few thousand
soldiers still held the field, and Jeshua and Satan were within shouting
distance of one another. Both of the Seraphim at Jeshua's side were gone,
having been slain by Demons on kamikaze missions. Satan was guarded by a
lone Arch-Demon, who watched his master's back while he fought his way
towards the hillside the forces of Good were defending. Satan came within a
hundred feet of the hill and stopped, calling upon his forces to regroup.
But his forces were scattered across the field, pinned down by the forces
of Good, who now outnumbered the followers of Satan.

When dusk began to fall, Freedom gave the signal. His blue clad soldiers
mounted their horses, and began to tighten the wide circle they'd made
around the contending Armies. Satan was just cresting the hill upon which
Jeshua waited, and their battle was just beginning. Freedom spurred his
horse mercilessly, wanting to be on hand for the final blow, no matter who
struck it.

Freedom's forces took the remaining troops of both sides by utter suprise.
They fell like wheat before the scythe, some still fighting one another,
and none willing to join together to battle a common foe. In a few short
minutes, all that remained of the two armies were Jeshua and Satan, atop the
hill, who seemed indifferent to the falling of their forces.

When Freedom topped the hill and pulled his horse to reign, he paused to
watch the battle foretold by prophesy. Satan blasted Jeshua with bolt after
bolt of ruby light, which Jeshua deflected easily with his sword. Jeshua's
strokes towards Satan's breast were deflected by the rod, but Freedom could
tell that Satan was weakening.

They continued to strive against one another as the moon rose overhead, and
Freedom's forces slowly climbed the hill to encircle the combatants. At
last, one of Jeshua's sword blows broke Satan's rod, which shattered and
fell to earth like so many drops of blood. Jeshua swung his sword once more,
cleaving Satan's head from his sholders, and encasing his whole body in
flames. With a final anguished screech, Darkness fell to Light.

There was no sound upon the hill. No sound, until a faint, slow clapping
was heard. Jeshua turned, and beheld the man in blue upon his horse, who
smiled at him. "No man may mock me, not at this, my moment of greatest
triumph!" said Jeshua to the man upon the horse, who commenced to laugh.
"Who are you anyway," Jeshua asked, "and by what right do you laugh at my
words?"

Freedom dismounted his horse, slinging his uzi over the saddle's horn. "I
am a Son of Man," said Freedom, " and I have come to prevent you from
committing an evil greater than any that one would have aspired too." As
Freedom shook loose the sword at his back, he pointed at the smoldering
form of what was once the Prince of Evil. "You claim a title that is mine
alone, Mortal," spoke Jeshua, "as i am the Life and the Ressurection, and by
my Hand the Will of the Lord is made real." "You are in error, bastard
child," said Freedom to him then, "I am no more mortal than thee. I know
thy secrets, and have no need of thy Ressurections."

Drawing forth the Sword of Michael, Freedom pointed it towards Jeshua's
breast and grinned. "That Sword, that is the Sword of my Brother, Michael.
How do you come to bear it, Mortal who is not?" inquired Jeshua. "I took it
from him at the Tree of Life," spoke Freedom, "and as it slew him, so shall
it now slay you!" And then, with a blindingly fast headcut, Freedom drew
the first blood in the battle for mankind's future.

They fought on as the moon passed overhead. As they fought, they spoke of
many things. Jeshua questioned Freedom, desiring to learn why he fought, and
how he had come to possess the Sword of Michael. Freedom, in turn, asked
Jeshua what it was like to be the instrument of his own conception, and what
it was like to die.

"I died for you, for all of you!" cried Jeshua, beating back a frenzied
series of cuts from his opponent, "I died so that you might all live
forever in my Father's house, to praise his power and glory!" Freedom,
whose face grew dark, said to Jeshua, "Your death was meaningless! You knew
that you would be ressurrected! It was no sacrifice! If I die here, upon
this hill, MY death will be forever. And I welcome death, if my hands and
skill cannot defeat you, for I would rather die than be your slave
forever!" Jeshua's face, covered with sweat, contorted with rage. "Your
species was created for one purpose, Mortal! One purpose alone. To serve my
Father, and serve you shall! I slew Satan for his defiance of my Father's
Will, and now I shall slay you! The time for dissent is over!"

Jeshua wove a metal curtain about himself with the sword in his mouth.
Freedom fought back cut after cut, probing his opponent for an opening.
His own defenses were being tested now, and he took three rapid cuts to his
left arm, chest and brow. In pain and fury, he doubled his attack, and
smashed thru Jeshua's defense to cut a long swath along his jaw and cheek,
dislodging the sword in his mouth, which fell to the earth between them.

As Jeshua looked at the sword, lying there in the dirt, Freedom brought the
Sword of Michael down upon his neck, severing the head of Jeshua. It rolled
twice, and came to rest at Freedom's feet. "Its not over yet," the head
said, "behold, New Jeruselum descends from the heavens. My father will deal
with you now." Freedom, lifting the head of Jeshua from the dirt, spat
directly in his face. And then he dropkicked it, sending it flying a
hundred leagues, to fall right in the center of the City of God.

Freedom mounted his horse, and with his army behind him, rode on to New
Jeruselum. The gates of pearl stood open, guarded by lone Angels. But
Freedom rode not to the gates, but alongside one of the walls. He turned to
his people and said: "I may not enter this City by its Gates, so I shall
carve my own. If I perish within, follow your hearts. But remember (if you
can) that I died so that no God could hold you in bondage. I am a man like
any of you. Do not deify me in my absence." And with that, he struck the
jasper wall with the Sword of Michael, and a great crack appeared in it.
Two more blows opened a passage wide enough for a man to pass within.

Within, the City shone like a jewel. The streets were made of the purest
gold, so pure as to be almost transluscent. He bore the Sword of Michael
out before him, and it blazed with power, especially where the blood of the
Lamb was still fresh upon it. In the center of the city, a great pillar of
light illuminated everything. It was towards that he walked, with even,
measured strides.

At the center of the City, a being composed entirely of light wept. It
cradled the head of its Son in its arms, and wept great crystal tears. The
first color was beginning to creep into the sky to the east. When the Man
in Blue entered the courtyard where Jehovah wept, the Lord turned upon him
and blasted him with the fury of a God. But the Sword of Michael clove the
blast, and sent it to either side of Freedom, who stood his ground.

Jehovah stood, and looked at he who bore the Sword. A gesture, and the
Sword vanished. "It was a mistake to come here," Jehovah said to the Man,
"because I am the Maker of Rules. I created the Sword, and as you can see,
I can unmake it as well." Freedom just continued to stand there, looking
defiant. "You have slain Cherubim, the Guardian of the Tree of Life. You
slew Michael, who came to his aid. Then you ate the Fruit. I lost sight of
you then. Even as you fought with my Son, I could not touch you. But here
you are at the center of my Power." Jehovah took a step towards Freedom,
and into his hand came a great blazing sword. "As you slew my Children, now
so shall you die."

Freedom shook his head, indicating the negative. And he laughed, a great
thunderous laugh. Then he clapped his hands before him, and the sonic blast
knocked Jehovah back. "You made the Rules, this is true. But you are also
bound by them. You cast out your first children for eating of the Tree of
Knowlege, lest they eat also from the Tree of Life, and become like Gods."
And into his hands there appeared another sword, like a single piece of
azure crystal. "Well, Jehovah, I have eaten from that Tree as well. I am
now like you."

And there, as the first light of dawn came over the hills, Freedom and
Jehovah fought. Jehovah cast gouts of fire at Freedom, who countered them
with with disks of pure sapphire. Their swords crashed like the cries of a
woman in labor, but Jehovah was fighting a defensive battle. As the first
rays of the sun entered the courtyard, Freedom struck Jehovah's sword and
disarmed him. Jehovah sank slowly to his knees, defeated. Freedom, seeing
this, laughed long and hard.

Jehovah, his eyes blazing, looked upon Freedom and cried "Do not mock me! I
might fall to your sword, but I will not be mocked!" "You shall not perish
by my blade, Jehovah," Freedom said to him then, "for with your death, all
things created will perish with you. It is not your destruction that I
crave, but your absence. You shall take this abomination of a City back
into the Heavens with you, and trouble my species no more. Agree to my
terms, and you shall not die. But neither shall you receive the worship of
Mankind. They are forevermore free of you, as well as I. We shall leave
mankind to its own Destiny, untroubled by your prophesies and nevermore
looking to cure its ills by prayer."

"They are not capable of existing without knowlege of me!" cried Jehovah.
"Try them," said Freedom, "I think you will find them to be stronger than
you believe. They have dreams and aspirations that pale your fate for them.
Remove your curse from the Land, and from Man and Woman. Unscramble their
languages, undo all the damage your power games have played upon them. You
in your shortsightedness wished to give them the Earth alone... I say they
shall inherit the Stars."

And so it was done. New Jeruselum rose back up into the Heavens, taking
Jehovah and Freedom with it. Freedom's followers went forth from that place
and built a city of their own upon that place, a city which grew to be the
center of the world. Freed of the barriers of language, men came together
in more perfect understanding of one another's views. The land, once cursed
by Jehovah, bore food enough to feed all of the people, so that none might
hunger. Effort once wasted in prayer was turned towards cleaning the water
and the air, in the sure knowlege that if they did not do it for
themselves, nobody was going to do it for them. There was not always peace,
but all men knew in their hearts that they were, at last, truly FREE.

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