Society Rules (32 page)

“The earlier forms of life knew what they were seeing, and listened and learned quite readily. Modern day people . . . they have a much less accepting attitude, preferring to attack and demonize what they can’t understand.”

“Who are the Elders?” Indie whispered numbly, simply to clench what she already knew to be the truth. Something that was about to engulf her, and sweep her into a spiral right out of reality. Jax answered with a resigned reluctance, afraid for her sanity now.

“They are those closest to the Creator, rarely leaving His side. They relay his wishes to . . . the messengers . . . the
Principalities
.”

His eyes darted toward hers as he spoke this word, in time to see them widen with full comprehension.

“Principalities . . .” Indie’s head began to feel as if were detaching from her body, and floating away.

“The fallen angels?”

She thought, for a moment, that she might be sick, and took deep gasping breaths to attempt to maintain the contents of her stomach.

Jackson swung her around to face him fully, pulling her up against his chest.

“No, no,” he insisted hoarsely, “
We
are not the
fallen!
Not at all! That is a myth written by
people
out of fear and ignorance in Biblical times.
We
are and have always been here on Earth at the direction of the Creator. Our Ancestors lay with the daughters of man,
as
was
His
will!
To improve, guide and perfect the lives of humankind.

“We are to teach and to
protect
the sacred elements of Earth. But we are not to interfere with free will, except by the direct wishes of the Creator.” His tone lightened, becoming gentle once more.

“We also have free will. That is why I was directed to approach you and to plead my case to you verbally, not to touch you . . . not until
you
asked me to do it, so that it was your choice to know.”

He stole a glance at her, but she had frozen against his chest. “
Please
, Indie, keep your head with me!” he pleaded, giving her a little shake. Indie was nodding her head, slowly.

“The Elders . . .
Seraphim
 . . . ?” She was reaching deeply into her brain to pull out all she had ever learned about Theology.

The Seraphim . . . angels of the highest rank. Those closest to Divinity, closest to God, always chanting threefold perfection . . .
Holy
,
Holy
,
Holy!

And Jackson . . . the warrior genes; the bloodlines of the Archangels . . . of course . . . Miss Maggie, daughter of the Virtues . . .
my
God!

Indie shut her eyes and clung to Jackson, trying to stop her descent into stark raving madness.

“I believe,” he sighed into her hair, “that you have just hit your limit!”

Indie’s shaking suddenly stopped. In fact, she felt unable to will her body to move in any way. She tried desperately to rationalize with herself, to allow what she was hearing to take form, while retaining her sanity.

It’s
so
strange
, she thought to herself,
how
those
of
us
who
claim
to
believe
in
a
God
by
whatever
name
we
call
Him,
cannot
fathom
any
real
confirmation
of
His
existence.
If
anyone
ever
claims
to
have
seen
or
spoken
to
God,
that
person
is
automatically
a
nut.
Is
it
because
actual
knowledge
of
His
existence
is
simply
too
much
for
us
to
bear?

And
the
belief
in
the
angels?
People
say
all
the
time,
‘oh
yes,
I
know
an
angel
is
watching
over
me!’
but
what
if
they
really
saw
one?
They
would
run,
screaming
in
circles,
terrified
 . . .

Inexplicably, she began to laugh, sounding slightly maniacal. Jax pushed her away from his body, in order to look at her, eyes full of anxiety.

“
Indie
 . . . ?” he began, his fingers wrapped around her forearms tightly. It took several long moments for coherent speech to return.

“No, no, really, I’m okay. I just have to let this seep into my pores, for just a moment,” she gasped. “Although I have to say, I think aliens and spaceships would have been easier to reconcile my mind with, you know?”

Jackson frowned, but said nothing, and pulled her close again. Indie could feel his mind racing, trying to decide what to say next. “Don’t say anything just yet, Jax, just let me absorb this, please!”

“Yes, of course,” he agreed, worriedly. He held and gently rocked her in silence for what seemed an eternity. She took a deep breath after the prolonged silence, ready to speak again.

“So,” she exhaled the word. “I am an . . . angel?” Indie felt an appalling need to giggle at the word escaping her lips.

Jackson struggled to conceal his look of nervous amusement.

“Perhaps in
my
eyes, but in reality, not exactly. You are a direct descendent of those first two hundred angelic
beings
, made in the flesh.”

She was confused. “But . . . I thought you said . . .” she stammered. “No, Indie, I am telling you that once the”—he stumbled over the word—“the
angels
came into the flesh, they became human forbearers.”

He spoke patiently, carefully.

“It just so happens, that when one inherits the full and completely aligned set of genetic markers, he or she is genetically identical to the first angelic
beings
. You are a true descendent of the first beings of human
form
. Only upon the death of this body, (he gestured toward her with a sweep of his hand), will you re-gain the true status of angel.”

Human
form
 . . .
perfected.
She had to focus. Certainly, she never would have put herself in
that
category. How could this be? She had wanted to hear this, right? Whatever it was, Indie had wanted to know. But now, she wasn’t sure that she could accept it. Jackson was silent, as he allowed her inner struggle to take place.

“We have unusually long life spans?” she asked. It seemed Indie
was
a glutton for punishment after all.

“Longer than the Human Population, yes,” he spoke into her hair.

“Like . . . ?” she let the implied question hang in the air, but then suddenly wasn’t sure that she really wanted to hear the answer. However, he spoke first, in a rush as before. “Like, perhaps, several centuries, as long as nothing takes us prematurely,” Jackson revealed.

“Centuries!” she gasped, her head buzzed with the implications.
Preposterous.

But then Indie knew without a doubt that it was true. What had Miss Maggie told her? She had said she was three centuries old. And she’d thought Miss Maggie was going for a walk down the dementia-freeway.

“This would explain our youthful appearance, then,” she guessed. “That would be correct,” he answered, in his low, soft cadence. “There are more than enough accounts in the Bible about the longevity of certain men at that time . . . men touched by the Creator.” Jackson elaborated.

“Noah. Methuselah, Moses . . . many others. There is fact, and men’s amplified version of fact to be found in the Book.

“We begin our lives aging fairly normally, and then the process begins to slow. By age thirty or so, it slows significantly,” he explained further. “Usually by the time a Member nears forty, they have to gain new legal documents, adjusting their ages, and have to move on to a new place.” He looked at Indie, pointedly.

“You would not have been able to pull off your true age without adjustment for too much longer, that’s for sure!”

“Oh?” Indie gestured back at him. “And you think people can really swallow
your
age?” Smiling now, he shifted in the chair, and drew out his wallet. With his arms still encircling her, he flipped it open, and slid out his driver’s license.

Jackson
Riley
Allen,
date
of
birth,
June
26th,
1983
.

“You made yourself twenty five?” she demanded, feeling suddenly and quite ridiculously too old for him. Oh, and wouldn’t you just know it, his driver’s license picture was flawless. It was completely unfair!

He laughed. “I felt like I could pull this off for a while. Physically, I could have entered an even younger age, but I don’t like to waste my education, and even twenty five is pushing
that
envelope. I do
so
enjoy being a very young attorney . . . child prodigy and all that!”

Indie smiled at his words, and then grew serious again. “I still can’t fathom the idea of such a long life, and having to move around to keep people from knowing. From realizing the truth. It seems sad . . .
lonely
somehow.” She sighed.

“That’s true, but, don’t you see? This is why we are given a companion for life. One who can make you truly complete. You will always have someone in your world to share everything with,” Jackson replied in a soft, comforting voice.

“But my children!” She shrank back against him, horrified, as the realization hit her. “How on earth can I keep this from
them
?”

He breathed a heavy sigh. “That,” he spoke sadly, “is not something that Members have had to face before, as far as I know. I have no answer for you, at the moment.”

Indie sank her stare into a spot in the far corner of the room, her mind unable to take anymore of the conversation. She was done, at least for the moment, and Jackson read this instantly from her overwhelmed thoughts.

He took her face in both of his hands, and stroked the hair away from her eyes. He looked into them deeply . . . studying, seeking to reassure. “I am going to make you an early supper,” he spoke finally, “and while you eat, I have to go out for a very short while.”

Indie nodded, mutely. Jackson lifted her over to his side, rising to his feet smoothly, and headed down the hallway.