Son of Perdition (Chronicles of Brothers) (9 page)

Kester Von Slagel rose.

‘His Reverence has indicated his satisfaction with the proceedings. The Lorcan clone . . . ’ he hesitated ‘ . . . will be a precise replica of his father.’

He paced the room.

‘And now to our timeline, gentlemen. The Prince will be dedicated in the crypts of the Vatican by His Reverence and the black elements of the Jesuits. He will then be transferred to London from Rome. The De Vere infant and the Prince will be exchanged on the night of the infant’s birth – 21 December 1981. The De Vere infant will be murdered. James and Lilian De Vere will never know of the exchange.They will bring up the Prince as their own.’

Von Slagel turned to the thirteen men in the room.

‘A one world government. Headed by our messiah.’

He nodded to Piers Aspinall. ‘Pray, enlighten us as to the Brotherhood’s aspirations for The City in the next four decades.’

Aspinall donned a pair of wire-rimmed spectacles and read from a sheaf of papers marked ‘Eyes Only’.

‘By the year 2008, we project that the daily turnover of foreign exchange in London’s Square Mile will exceed 1.6 billion dollars; the City will house 22 per cent of the global foreign equity market; 70 per cent of all eurobond turnover; at least £263 billion of worldwide premium insurance income in the UK; and 1.7 trillion pounds of pension-fund assets under management. We predict a 43 per cent global share in the “over the counter” derivatives market, and an 18 per cent share of all global hedge fund assets in the UK. By 2012, the Square Mile will be the leading Western centre for Islamic finance. And it will all be in the hands of the Brotherhood.’

Von Slagel walked over to the window and looked out at the 677 acres sprawled in front of him.

‘The wealthiest square mile on earth,’ he murmured. ‘We have achieved our Master’s goals this past century, gentlemen. The City is a privately owned corporation that is not subject to the Queen or Parliament. Behold our secret – ’

‘Remember that the end justifies the means.’

The men followed Von Slagel’s gaze as he surveyed the Bank of England, the Stock Exchange, Lloyd’s of London, Fleet Street and the London Commodity Exchange.

‘And the wise take all means . . . ’

Chapter Twelve

Disclosure

Jether walked the nameless secret passageway from the throne room of the First Heaven through the twisting labyrinths of the seventh spire, beneath the sacred vaults, to the Tower of Winds. Stopping in front of the small silver filigree door of the Walled Garden of Tempests, he placed his onyx ring over the keyhole. The door slid open onto the vast lush gardens of the Tower of Winds.

Obadiah, Jether’s attendant, a youngling of an ancient angelic race possessing the characteristics of eternal youth, remained blissfully oblivious to Jether’s arrival.

He hung from a tree, his stocky little legs entwined around a bough, avidly plucking sweetmeats from a low-hanging branch and stuffing them, six at a time, into his already chock-full mouth.

‘Humpf.’ Jether cleared his throat. Obadiah stared at him with wide eyes, then fell with a loud thump onto a bed of cowslips beneath him, crushing the flowers. The cowslips let out a loud sigh. Obadiah jumped up and scurried over to Jether, grasped his satin train and wiped his sticky hands on the fabric.

Jether glowered at him, then strode at full speed past the water fountains and the manicured hedges.

Obadiah’s orange curls flew in disarray as he desperately attempted to keep up with his sprightly master. He stared greedily at a second tree of strawberry sweetmeats, as they hurried past, plucked a large blue strawberry and opened his mouth.The strawberry flew from his hand directly into Jether’s palm.

‘I told you, Obadiah,’ Jether said, sternly, ‘I have
eyes
in the back of my head!’

He popped the sweetmeat unhurriedly into his own mouth, his eyes twinkling with mirth.

Obadiah followed behind him, his squat little legs flying. He gaped in rapture at Jether’s back.

Jether continued into the very centre of the tower gardens to a large golden table where the Council of Yehovah sat on twenty-three golden thrones, their long white hair and beards blowing in the cool zephyrs.

Jether surveyed the elders, bowing to each in turn before sitting down heavily on his jacinth throne. He raised his hand and instantly the zephyrs subsided to a gentle breeze.

‘Let us bow our heads in supplication, my fellow compatriots.’ And as one, the High Council bowed their white crowned heads. ‘Today,we have weighty matters to discuss. Obadiah, you are dismissed.’

He watched as the youngling’s stocky little legs carried him down the gilded stairs from the Tower of Winds. Jether sighed. ‘Oh to be a youngling – so uncomplicated an existence. But come, let us open the Council, revered compatriots. We are gathered here today on grave matters.’

He considered the immense golden Codex that lay open before him. After a few moments, he raised his face to the elders.

‘It has been nearly two thousand years since Lucifer’s defeat at Golgotha. The Great Battle of Armageddon draws nigh.’

He paused to let his words sink in.

Issachar nodded. ‘Lucifer knows this well. At Golgotha, his third of the Fallen were resoundly defeated by our armies.’

‘Lucifer vowed it would never happen again,’ Jether said. ‘And as we are all aware, he conceived a diabolical scheme.’

He gazed out at the assembled elders.

‘A scheme to conceive his messiah. His own Son of Perdition. Issachar, pray relay the Council’s findings.’

Issachar the Wise folded his hands, his normally gentle features grave. All eyes were intent on him.

‘My honoured compatriots. Our findings bode ill. Through this messiah, Lucifer’s intention is to control the world of the Race of Men by his institution of a New World Order – a One World Government. His goal is to control the banking systems, the military-industrial complex, the intelligence communities, pharmaceutical and drug cartels, and mass communication.’

Issachar sighed. ‘His ambitions are endless. Through this messiah, Lucifer himself plans to govern the world of the Race of Men.’

Jether surveyed the faces around the table. ‘Up until now, the Race of Men did not possess the capabilities to produce a clone. However, man’s technological advances have greatly accelerated this past decade. We have received word that Lucifer creates a clone in the world of the Race of Men. A clone who will carry his own DNA.’

The High Council stared at Jether in shock.

Lamaliel spoke. ‘Then he will no longer be reliant on the Stalins and Hitlers of this world who failed him.’

‘You have spoken truly, Lamaliel.’ Jether turned to Xacheriel. ‘As Yehovah’s revered curator of the sciences and universes, pray deliver the scientific facts as they stand.’

Xacheriel cleared his throat loudly. Then, putting his monocle to his eye, he thumbed through his scientific papers. His voice trembled with emotion.

‘Unlike Christos’s birth, the birth of Lucifer’s messiah will not be supernatural. It will be a feat of biogenetic engineering executed by Lucifer’s iniquitous super-scientists, the Twins of Malfecium, my
own
protégés for years here in the First Heaven.’ Xacheriel turned beetroot red with indignation.

‘Pray
calm
yourself, old friend,’ Jether admonished him gently. ‘The times of such treachery in our world are long past.’

Xacheriel glowered at the elders around the table from under huge bushy white eyebrows.‘Lucifer’s pets,’ he scowled. ‘At very
best
you could call them depraved biogenetic engineers.’

Jether gave him warning glance.

‘Anyway, the point is for over two thousand years, beyond the vaults of Vagen, a thousand miles beneath the Labyrinths of Angor, has lain a sarcophagus safeguarded by the Twins of Malfecium.The sarcophagus of the Furies.There lies the Vial of Sacred Progeny. It contains a single genome.’ He stared ominously at the elders around the table. ‘
Lucifer’s
genome. From which he would create a clone . . . ’

‘A replica of himself,’ Jether continued. ‘It is the most dastardly of all his strategies.’

He gestured to the goblet at Xacheriel’s right hand.

‘Pray sip some elixir to calm yourself, then continue, old friend.’

Xacheriel took a loud slurp of harebell nectar. ‘His super-scentists have been prepared since Alexander ruled the world. They were prepared during Stalin’s purges – and they got very close during Hitler’s reign of terror.

‘The Kaiser Wilhelm Institute of Human Heredity and Eugenics was a base for Hitler’s more depraved genetic and eugenic experiments. Othmar Von Verschuer, Grebe, Mengele . . . depraved
monsters all
!’

Jether frowned.

‘They all had one aim instigated by their Dark Master –
cloning
. But even the Nazi scientists, so technologically advanced, did not possess the technology to create a clone from the Lucifer seed.

‘In the 1940s they failed at every turn but, during these past few years, the Twins have provided technological blueprints to the darker elements of the Race of Men, in order that their Black Intelligence units might conduct secret cloning experiments in the Los Alamos facilities in North America. One scientist in particular is a genius.’ Xacheriel threw up his hands in a mixture of repulsion and admiration.

‘But Lucifer’s DNA is as ours,’ Issachar interjected. ‘It is Angelic. It is not matter, esteemed Xacheriel.’

‘That is where the Twins’ evil genius has excelled itself. Maelageor readjusted the DNA sequence of the genome of the Sacred Vial of Progeny to correspond precisely with the growth pattern and cycles of human DNA. The clone will retain the Angelic capability of spirit but will be confined in a body of matter. He will look like Lucifer. His human attributes, hair colour, eye colour, facial features will be a precise replica of his father, but his physical development will be as a man. In matter.’

Maheel spoke. ‘Revered Xacheriel, will he retain the supernatural capability of the Fallen Angelic?’

Xacheriel nodded. ‘His powers will be more confined but his clone will have access to the supernatural powers of the Angelic.’

Jether surveyed the elders. ‘However, Lucifer is well aware of the curtailing power of the presence of those who bear the Seal of the Nazarene. Until
every
follower of the Nazarene is removed from earth, his clone’s supernatural powers will be greatly restricted.’

‘
Every
follower?’

‘Even the weakest follower of the Nazarene poses a threat when they exercise their supernatural authority in the World of Men,’ Issachar added.

‘The transportation of the Nazarene’s followers to the First Heaven is to occur in the middle of the Tribulation,’ Methusalah said in his slow measured tones. ‘Three and a half years after the First Seal is broken.’

‘Until then,’ said Jether, ‘Lucifer’s clone will exercise limited supernatural power. Time is short. Word has reached us that Lucifer has already set his plan in motion. We have evidence that his genome was provided to the elite one moon ago by one who sat at this very table in aeons past. Charsoc the Dark.’

The elders stared at him in stunned silence.

‘Charsoc entered the world of the Race of Men to deliver the genome in human form through the Portal of Shinar. Charsoc is presently unaware of the addendum that was added after the Nephilim incident at Babel.’

Jether turned to Gabriel who read from a Codex.

‘The addendum states that if the Portal of Shinar is ever again breached by the Fallen, any human form they take will be irreversible.’ Gabriel looked up at the elders. ‘At first Charsoc will maintain the ability to transform back into Angelic form but with each passing decade in the Race of Men, this capacity will diminish. By the end of the Tribulation, he will lose his first estate forever. By the end of the seven-year tribulation, Charsoc will wander the desert places as neither fallen angel nor human until his banishment to the Lake of Fire.’

‘Unfortunately,’ Jether said, ‘Charsoc was not the only one who entered through the Portal. Michael, you saw it all first hand.’

Michael stared grimly across to the Rubied Door.

‘Sargon, Prince of Babylonia, and five hundred of his guard entered through to the world of men in human form, as did hundreds of Lucifer’s Royal Guard. And Astaroth.’

There came a collective gasp from the table.

‘We have regained control of the Portal,’ Michael continued. ‘But the Fallen now walk in human form, before their time.’

‘This Lucifer well knows.’ Methusalah spoke, his voice very soft.

Jether added. ‘He has also already chosen a family to incubate his son. One of thirteen ruling families of the occult society identified as the Illuminati.’

Jether looked down at the parchment of the Codex, and instantly lines of silver writing formed on the pages.

‘Their designation in the Race of Men is De Vere. Three of us seated at this table have been elected for a new and dangerous task.’ Jether rose. ‘Three of us have been chosen as stewards – protectors of the De Vere family. Stewards who will now manifest in human form.
As Angels unaware
.’ He smiled faintly.

‘We will now retreat to our chambers for supplication,’ he said. ‘Yehovah’s Sacred Spirit Himself will convene this very moon with each of the three chosen who will traverse freely between the world of the Race of Men and the First Heaven. They will leave at first moon.’

He gazed at the elders. ‘I am one of those chosen for this sacred task,’ he said, softly.

‘Eternal Law decrees that none of the three chosen is permitted to reveal himself to be angelic except in extenuating conditions – and then only on supreme authorization of Yehovah Himself. Until the breaking of the First Seal of the Revelation of St John of the Apocalypse we must remain invisible to the Fallen.

‘We will traverse the world of the Race of Men as is our common practice, through the Holy Angelic Portals. We will act as Watchmen. The Monastery of Alexandria in Egypt where the Christchild was given shelter will be a place of protection for each of us who make this.’

He closed the Codex.

‘If our existence is discovered before the First Seal is opened, we will lose our entitlement to protect the chosen family and will be banished from the world of men until Armageddon. We must be circumspect. We must be measured. We must be vigilant.

‘Godspeed, my noble compatriots.’ Jether smiled gently at the grave faces in front of him. ‘The Council is adjourned.’