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Christian Fantasy Speculative

This story contains sensitive content

Sensitive content. Some Christians may find the distortion of classic religious themes disturbing. This is a work of fantasy, not a theological statement. It is intended to entertain and provoke thought, not to offend.

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Lord Beelzebub, aka Prince of Darkness, Asmodeus, and Father of Lies, threw back his head and let loose a boisterous guffaw.


“God … the Almighty, omnipotent, omniscient and altogether perfect deity of the universe … God is asking a favour from me? What could he possibly want?”


Gabriel pulled his dark cloak closer around him and adjusted his protective mask. Strictly speaking, there was no need for him to breathe, but the suffocating fumes of the volcanic cavern were enough to make him question his own immortality. He took some comfort that Beezbub, despite the giant dark goggles that shielded his eyes, was clearly as uncomfortable as he was. It seemed impossible that they had once been best friends as well as brothers, boon companions and fierce rivals, especially for the celestial sixteen dimensional chess championship.


Nostalgia had driven Gabriel to ask for this assignment. As soon as he arrived at the rendezvous, he realized how grossly he had overestimated his mastery of personal inner peace. His turbulent emotions were disrupting his connection to Good Orderly Direction Central, even more than the oppositional currents of rebellion swirling around his opponent.


Gabriel cleared his parched throat. “An impressive number of earthly influencers have sold their souls to you. We were wondering if you would be willing to re-assign some of their contracts to us. It is absolutely essential that we divert the trajectory of human history.”


Beezbub guffawed once more. “You want my star players to join your team? That would constitute a serious breach of their free will, wouldn’t it?”


“They gave up their free will when they sold their souls to you.”


“But I love my little pets! They are so deliciously creative in their pursuit of evil! What could you possibly offer me in return?”


Gabriel closed his eyes and tried to relax. He desperately needed guidance from GOD Central, but the static interference was too deafening. He was on his own.


“There must be something you want.”


Beezbub reflected. “I could use some extra help. We can’t reproduce, and humans can’t stop reproducing. That’s the only one of God’s instructions that they have followed with boundless enthusiasm, even when it became obvious that it was time to slow down...My responsibilities keep increasing, but my work force remains constant. We simply can’t manage the same high quality of service that we used to offer. We’ve had to resort to self-serve torture stations and mass marketing. I’ve even trained some of my brighter captive souls to deliver temptations through social media. We are harvesting souls faster than we can process them, but they tend to be stupid and lazy, looking for an easy way out of their responsibilities. The brilliant, interesting ones worth capturing require expert personalized service, and we are just too tired to provide that.”


“Are you suggesting that God send angels to help you?”


“He wouldn’t have to use his regulars. He could create some new ones.”


“After you left, Father created ten thousand angels in the hope of making up the shortfall. He surmised that females might complement the masculine celestials he created before he invented multiple genders. They turned out be as troublesome as you and your gang, endlessly asking questions and refusing to accept the fact that personal rights do not exist in a hierarchy. Only three of them remain. The others set out to create their own community. Father graciously created a special planet for them three hundred light years away.”


“Oh yes,” Beezbub interjected, “I remember now. A dozen of them showed up at my gates, and they caused so much trouble that I threw them out. As far as I know, they are still wandering around earth as free agents. I cannot use free agents. Just give me ten thousand drones with no free will, and I’ll program them.”


“I don’t think Father would be willing or even able to create a spirit without free will.”


“In that case, we’re out of options.”


 “You would do well to take this negotiation more seriously,” Gabriel warned. “We are facing a dilemma that threatens both our realms.”


Beezbub’s violet eyes narrowed. “How so?”


“If you’ve been following the news, you realize that Artificial Intelligence has become a global reality…”


“AI! Silly, self-important humans propagating their own ignorance! Garbage in, garbage out.”


“It is more complicated than that. They may achieve singularity in as little as five years.”


“Singularity?”


“The merging of human and artificial intelligence. There are some rudimentary experiments being performed as we speak.”


“So?”


“So hybrid humans will have greater intellectual capacity than they were designed for. The results could be catastrophic.”


“Your catastrophes are my opportunities.”


“There is a scientist, Dr. Charles Harrow, who has discovered the ubiquity of spiritual power, and is working on harnessing it to create hardware-free computer programs. He is obscure now, but the minute he goes public with a prototype, every rich person on earth will want a part of the action. If singularity becomes hardware-free, it’s only a matter of time until humans figure out that they have no need for their troublesome physical bodies, and … and ….”


“And they will become as we are. But why should I worry? Over five billion souls on earth are mine…”


“Not irrevocably. They still have their free will. Repentance is always an option. Or they could choose to be independent. If they organize, they could be virtually unstoppable.”


“An independent Earth! You’ve got to be kidding! Humans are too stupid to manage that.”


Gabriel leaned forward. “They have one gift we never anticipated. They use their tools to create better tools. Each new computer program is immediately put to work to create a better version of itself. We have to find a way to disrupt that process.”


Beezbub shook his head. “Gabe, I don’t know what your game is, but I don’t buy your story. What do you really want?”


“I am incapable of lying.”


“Really? You did a good job of it at my trial. Too bad it didn’t work.”


“I didn’t want you to leave heaven. I idolized you, Luce. My big brother, sixteen celestial minutes older and always just a bit brighter.”


“Don’t call me that! Lucifer is dead. I have better names now. To get back to the point – if you could lie then, why not now?”


“I gave up my free will. We all did. Father was reluctant, but we were so terrified of the possibility of another war that we needed an ironclad guarantee that it could never happen.”


“You gave up your free will for the sake of a superficial peace? I could never do that.”


“I know. That’s precisely why you and I are always at odds. But I miss you. Please come home. I know that we can find a way to prevent human-AI singularity if we work together.”


“It’s too late,” Beezbub said. “We’re both trapped in a game that’s been rigged from the beginning. No matter what the score is, I will be expendable, while you go on from glory to glory. I’ll take a chance on the hardware-free singularity. Maybe humans will become less predictably annoying. It could be fun to interact with beings that can challenge my intelligence.”


Gabriel stood up. “You know Father won’t tolerate that kind of rivalry. Do you remember what happened to the Heavenly Tower project?”


Beezbub turned his back. “Get out of my sight. You and your playlist of righteousness are giving me a headache.”


Gabriel shed his cloak, flooding the cavern with brilliant white light. He unfolded his golden wings, walked out into the sunshine, and leaped into the air.


Beezbub watched him fly off. “You were a lot more fun in the good old days, before the Wars,” he muttered. For five long seconds, he considered re-joining the celestial team. Then he shrugged his shoulders. 


His time was short, but he had no regrets. He could not imagine anything more irritating that perpetual goodness.


He put the whole awkward incident out of his mind until the security watchman informed him that someone was banging on the gates of hell, refusing to leave.


It was Gabriel. He wore a plain brown robe, matching his wings, which now resembled those of a bat. He was no longer bathed in the unbearable celestial light.


“What’s up, Bro’?” Beezbub asked, doing his best to remain professionally neutral in the face of Gabe's unnerving transformation.


“Father is doing a temporal rollback.”


“A what?”


“He’s going to rewind earth time to the moment when Moses begins climbing Mount Sinai to receive the ten commandments. He’ll make sure that there is no golden calf this time.”


“Rewind time? Don’t make me laugh. Everyone knows that the arrow of time always points in the same direction.”


“You’d better Google quantum mechanics. The potential for time reversal has been embedded in creation from the beginning.”


“If that’s so, why hasn’t God used it to get out of embarrassing situations?’


“He has. Over two hundred times. Nobody ever knew about it because the previous timeline was completely erased.”


“And what did you do to offend God and end up here?”


“Nothing. I asked for my free will back, and I chose to spend this

time with you.”


“Don’t you have better things to do?” Beezbub asked gruffly. He was all in favour of change, but Gabe's metamorphosis was a gut punch.


“I have nothing to do at all. All the angels have been relieved of their duties. These are in-between days, when choices have no lasting consequences. When this time line ends, all memories of it will be lost.”


“How long will this state of affairs last?” Beezbub asked.


“Unknown. There are complex preparations to be made, to prevent time paradox waves from dislocating the rest of the universe.”


“You’re sure nobody will ever know what happens next?”


“Absolutely. The multiverse theorists got it all wrong. Father does not relish multiple versions of the same storyline.”


“In that case…” Beezbub held out his arms. “Welcome home, brother. Mi casa es tu casa. Do you still remember how to play sixteen dimensional chess? Nobody has beaten me for thousands of years.” 

August 14, 2024 06:59

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8 comments

Helen A Smith
13:28 Aug 22, 2024

A clever and interesting story with some great lines. I liked “Your catastrophes are my opportunities.”

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22:47 Aug 22, 2024

Thank you! I am rather fond of that line myself.

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Yuliya Borodina
18:51 Aug 20, 2024

Your dialogue feels so engaging and organic, it's enough to drive the whole story. I loved the mixture of biblical and modern. Very well done!

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02:44 Aug 22, 2024

Thank you! I was hoping to give the impression that this is happening HERE and NOW, and now could be gone in a flash and be replaced by yesterday.

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Malcolm Twigg
16:14 Aug 18, 2024

Woman after my own heart! Thoroughly entertaining, and what bigger mortal enemies could there be? I bet most of the Bible Belt will be up in arms. Good on you.

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19:59 Aug 18, 2024

Thank you. I don't anticipate having enough readers to start a war.

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15:12 Aug 15, 2024

Great fun. The banter and interaction is perfectly sibling like. Love the inclusion of influencers and AI, all very topical. Why not roll it all back?! and try again!! (One note Beelzbub is spelt differently in a lot of places, sometimes Beezbub, sometimes Beesbub, just if you want to fix that!)

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18:39 Aug 15, 2024

Thanks, Derrick! You've described what I was intending to do. Fun with a bit of a geeky edge. I've recently become aware of Ray Kurzweil, and watched an optimistic TED talk by him. He's also written two books, which are on my Amazon wish list. Thanks for pointing out the inconsistency. Beelzebub is the actual name, of course. I deliberately shortened it to a nickname, just for effect. It started out as Beesbub, and then I changed it to Beezbub, and did not use "find and replace" technology because I was sure I could manage that in ...

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