Chapter 14 Melchior Forces Metatron to Give up the Zetan Technologies.
1493 Words
Metatron was feeding Sabina with a feeder bottle. Melissa was ill, and he didn’t want to expose his daughter to virus-ridden breastmilk if there were alternatives, and there was. Besides, he loved spending time alone with Sabina. It was after all his and Keila’s biological daughter, and although he had learned to love Melissa in the last six months, it was still not the same way that he had felt for Keila.
When he looked into Sabina’s lively green eyes, he saw the Keila he had fallen in love with before Rangda had possessed her, changed her eye colour to devilish purple and everything fell apart. Metatron sighed and felt a bittersweet feeling. On the one hand, he missed Keila like crazy, and the birth of his daughter reminded him of her every night. On the other hand, when he looked into Sabina's eyes, he felt a connection and a sense of purpose that he had never felt before in his very long life.
Suddenly, Samael rushed into the room where Metatron was nursing Sabina. Metatron gave him a stern look and spoke.
- Samael, haven’t I specifically told you in the past to not disturb me when I am spending time with my daughter.
Samael:
- I know Metatron, but this is important and can’t wait.
Metatron:
- More important than quality time with my daughter?
Samael:
- Yes.
- The traitor Melchior is here, with a large Martian fleet requesting an audience.
Metatron:
- Melchior? Last I heard that psychopath is tormenting the poor Martians. What can he possibly want from us?
Samael:
- Well, he is from Eden, and some of his family still lives here. I assume he wants to add Eden to his growing domains.
Metatron:
- I won’t allow that to happen. I have sworn to lead and protect the Edenites from danger.
Samael:
- How do you intend to scare off a large potentially hostile fleet?
Metatron:
- Samael, do you trust me?
Samael:
- Yes, but why do you ask?
Metatron:
- Because you must follow my lead, regardless of how outrageous it might seem.
- So, let’s go meet our prominent visitor.
Metatron picked up a handheld tablet and gave the clearance for Melchior’s command ship to dock with B528B. Metatron studied Melchior as he disembarked the ship. Melchior had seemingly aged many years, although it was just a year since they last met. And what was the thing with Melchior’s eyes? Was he wearing tinted lenses? Metatron decided to find out. He shouted to Melchior:
- Hey Melchior, you got something in your right eye.
Instinctively Melchior rubbed his right eye briefly before he replied.
- No, I haven’t, what are you talking about?
Metatron had seen enough to know what he was dealing with. During Melchior’s eye-rubbing, the tinted lens had temporarily moved out of position, briefly revealing Melchior’s real eye colour, devilish purple. When Keila became possessed by Rangda years earlier, her eye colour had changed to the same colour, and that had ended in disaster. Now Rangda had Melchior under her evil influence. Metatron decided to tackle the question headfirst:
Metatron:
- How is your old friend Rangda?
Melchior:
- I don’t know what you are talking about!
Metatron:
- But you do. You are possessed by her. That’s why you turned from an altruistic freedom fighter to a power-hungry tyrant. And that’s why you wear tinted lenses to hide your real eye colour, mad glowing purple!
Melchior:
- That is preposterous, do you seriously think anyone believes in this talk.
Metatron:
- Oh, but I have proof. This photo of your iris was taken by a high-velocity camera when you rubbed your eyes.
Metatron streamed the photo of Melchior’s iris onto the large displays in the spaceport of B528B.
Melchior responded nonchalantly:
- Those manipulated photos won’t convince anyone, and I am disappointed in your lack of hospitality.
- As an Edenite and soon to be emperor of Mars, I would have anticipated a more courteous reception.
Metatron:
- Don’t call yourself emperor yet, there is plenty of opposition to your tyranny, and besides, you are hardly the president of Olympus Republic yet.
Melchior:
- Oh, but I won the presidency fair and square.
Metatron:
- With all your opponents’ mysteriously dying the days before the election.
Melchior:
- What better way to prove that God is on my side and wants me to rule Mars?
Metatron:
- It only proves you being a murderer and a fraud!
Melchior:
- Look who is talking, the man who helped Abraham to deceive all of us Edenites for 60 years!
- I am saying that as a good thing though. Abraham was a great visionary dictator, albeit small-minded and sadistic. When I become emperor over Mars, I will rule it with Abraham’s rules, but with more just and righteous doctrines suitable to the conditions of the 29th century and to the people of Mars.
- But let’s talk about why I am here.
- I am here to take control of Eden and the Divine Control Centre. Being a generous man, I am offering you and the other super-soldier angels’ amnesty and safe passage if you surrender immediately.
Metatron:
- As the rightful leader of Eden, I am afraid I cannot grant you that request. Instead, I have a counter-offer. Leave us alone to manage ourselves, or I will deactivate Eden’s atmosphere suffocating everyone, including your parents, your siblings, your nephews and your nieces.
Melchior:
- Impressive, I didn’t think you had it in you. Then again, I could just have my men shoot you!
Metatron:
- You could, but killing or incapacitating me would automatically trigger the release of cyanide gas into Eden’s atmosphere, killing everyone on the surface.
Melchior:
- Okay, so be it. You can keep your Bronze-age backwards civilisation for all I care.
- But, I still must have what I came for. The ancient Zetan technologies and The Divine Detector machine which could transport my mind to the Divine Dimension, where the Zetans and the Xenos reside. Give me those and I’ll leave you alone. Refuse, and I don’t mind if you kill everyone, including my own family!
- But to prove myself, I’ll give you a sample of what I am capable of.
Melchior streamed a video hologram into the room and continued speaking.
- Do you recognise this woman?
Metatron:
- Yes. It’s your Edenite mother.
Melchior entered a command prompt on the computerised device on his arm, and the video showed how Melchior’s mother was burned alive by a laser from Melchior’s command ship.
Metatron:
- Nice try, but I am not falling for that bluff.
Melchior:
- Oh, am I bluffing? I suggest you ask the AI for confirmation.
Metatron:
- AI. Did Melchior just kill his mother using a laser cannon?
AI:
- I cannot accurately deduce who fired the laser, but Mrs Dorevitch was indeed incinerated by a laser 20 seconds ago.
Melchior:
- Happy now? That’s how dedicated I am. Now hand over your top-secret ancient Zetan technologies or no-one is getting out of here alive!
Metatron was overwhelmed with fear and didn’t know what to do. On one aspect, he had the moral duty to stop this madman by not handing over the technologies that could enable Melchior’s reign of terror to spread over Mars. But on the other hand, he was also responsible for the lives of the Edenites. However, most importantly, he had to save the lives of Melissa and his baby daughter Sabina. He felt compelled to give away the secret technologies but rebuked from doing so. Metatron was caught in between duty and love; it was a dual-edged sword that stopped him from doing the right thing. Eventually, Metatron decided to give in to Melchior’s wishes. Regardless of what he did, Melchior would find a way to steal the Zetan technologies, so there was no point being risky about it. Avoiding m******e and bloodshed in Eden was the best solution for him to take, as he had no other option.
Metatron:
- Okay, Melchior, you have proven your point. We will assemble all the Zetan technologies and deliver them to you on a portable drive tomorrow.
Melchior:
- Wise move! And don’t even think about double-crossing me, or I’ll expose you to a fate worse than death!
Having said this, Melchior returned to his command ship and undocked from B528B, eagerly waiting for the portable drive with Zetan technologies to be delivered.
- Writer
