“‘Saraquael?’
“‘Hm? Oh, it’s you. Hello. Look at this. If you were to die and to be, let us say, put into the earth in a box, which would you want laid on top of you—a spider, here, or a lily, here?’
“‘The lily, I suppose.’
‘Yes, that’s what I think, too. But why? I wish . . .” He raised a hand to his chin, stared down at the two models, put first one on top of the box, then the other, experimentally. ‘There’s so much to do, Raguel. So much to get right. And we only get one chance at it, you know. There’ll just be one universe—we can’t keep trying until we get it right. I wish I understood why all this was so important to Him . . .’
“‘Do you know where Zephkiel’s cell is?’ I asked him.
“‘Yes. I mean, I’ve never been there. But I know where it is.’
‘Good. Go there. He’ll be expecting you. I will meet you there.’
“He shook his head. ‘ I have work to do. I can’t just . . .’
“I felt my function come upon me. I looked down at him, and I said, ‘You will be there. Go now.’
“He said nothing. He backed away from me toward the window, staring at me; then he turned and flapped his wings, and I was alone.
“I walked to the central well of the Hall and let myself fall, tumbling down through the model of the universe: it glittered around me, unfamiliar colors and shapes seething and writhing without meaning.
“As I approached the bottom, I beat my wings, slowing my descent, and stepped lightly onto the silver floor. Phanuel stood between two angels who were both trying to claim his attention.
“‘I don’t care how aesthetically pleasing it would be,’ he was explaining to one of them. ‘We simply cannot put it in the center. Background radiation would prevent any possible life-forms from even getting a foothold; and anyway, it’s too unstable.’
“He turned to the other. ‘Okay, let’s see it. Hmm. So that’s Green, is it? It’s not exactly how I’d imagined it, but. Mm. Leave it with me. I’ll get back to you.’ He took a paper from the angel, folded it over decisively.
“He turned to me. His manner was brusque, and dismissive.
‘Yes?’
“‘I need to talk to you.’
“‘Mm? Well, make it quick. I have much to do. If this is about Carasel’s death, I have told you all I know.’
“‘It is about Carasel’s death. But I will not speak to you now. Not here. Go to Zephkiel’s cell: he is expecting you. I will meet you there.’
“He seemed about to say something, but he only nodded, walked toward the door.
“I turned to go when something occurred to me. I stopped the angel who had the Green. ‘Tell me something.’
“‘If I can, sir.’
“‘That thing.’ I pointed to the universe. ‘What’s it going to be for?’
“‘For? Why, it is the universe.’
“‘I know what it’s called. But what purpose will it serve?’
“He frowned. ‘It is part of the plan. The Name wishes it; He requires such and such, to these dimensions and having such and such properties and ingredients. It is our function to bring it into existence, according to His wishes. I am sure He knows its function, but He has not revealed it to me.’ His tone was one of gentle rebuke.
“I nodded, and left that place.
“High above the City a phalanx of angels wheeled and circled and dove. Each held a flaming sword that trailed a streak of burning brightness behind it, dazzling the eye. They moved in unison through the salmon pink sky. They were very beautiful. It was—you know on summer evenings when you get whole flocks of birds performing their dances in the sky? Weaving and circling and clustering and breaking apart again, so just as you think you understand the pattern, you realize you don’t, and you never will? It was like that, only better.
“Above me was the sky. Below me, the shining City. My home. And outside the City, the Dark.
“Lucifer hovered a little below the Host, watching their maneuvers.
“‘Lucifer?’
“‘Yes, Raguel? Have you discovered your malefactor?’
“‘I think so. Will you accompany me to Zephkiel’s cell? There are others waiting for us there, and I will explain everything.’
“He paused. Then, ‘Certainly.’
“He raised his perfect face to the angels, now performing a slow revolution in the sky, each moving through the air keeping perfect pace with the next, none of them ever touching. ‘Azazel!’
“An angel broke from the circle; the others adjusted almost imperceptibly to his disappearance, filling the space, so you could no longer see where he had been.
“‘I have to leave. You are in command, Azazel. Keep them drilling. They still have much to perfect.’
“‘Yes, sir.’
“Azazel hovered where Lucifer had been, staring up at the flock of angels, and Lucifer and I descended toward the City.
“‘He’s my second-in-command,’ said Lucifer. ‘Bright. Enthusiastic. Azazel would follow you anywhere.’
“‘What are you training them for?’
“‘War.’
“‘With whom?’
“‘How do you mean?’
“‘Who are they going to fight? Who else is there?’
“He looked at me; his eyes were clear, and honest. ‘I do not know. But He has Named us to be His army. So we will be perfect. For Him. The Name is infallible and all-just and all-wise, Raguel. It cannot be otherwise, no matter what—’ He broke off and looked away.
“‘You were going to say?’
“‘It is of no importance.’
“‘Ah.’
“We did not talk for the rest of the descent to Zephkiel’s cell.”
I looked at my watch; it was almost three. A chill breeze had begun to blow down the L.A. street, and I shivered. The man noticed, and he paused in his story. “You okay?” he asked.
“I’m fine. Please carry on. I’m fascinated.”
He nodded.
“They were waiting for us in Zephkiel’s cell: Phanuel, Saraquael, and Zephkiel. Zephkiel was sitting in his chair. Lucifer took up a position beside the window.
“I walked to center of the room, and I began.
“‘I thank you all for coming here. You know who I am; you know my function. I am the Vengeance of the Name, the arm of the Lord. I am Raguel.