Overdrive by Phillip W. Simpson Read Free Book Online Page B

past.
    Her simple robes
of silver and white, emblazoned with a trumpet, struggled to contain their
womanly curves. She was sheer perfection. Like all Angels, Gabriella possessed
long blond hair, dazzling blue eyes, pure white wings, a stature well over 6’
and a face that required no cosmetic enhancement. She was one of the three most
powerful Angels in the Areopagite hierarchy along with the Demiurge Metatron
and Michael - one of the other seven Archangels and Prince of Arabot. Gabriella
was also the only female Archangel.
    The Demiurge had
summoned her here to Arabot, Seventh Heaven and ruling planet of the
Areopagite’s, for a conference that would only involve Metatron, Michael and
herself. Ominous and intriguing thought Gabriella. No other Angel in the
First hierarchy was to be present.
    Any major
decisions made in Areopagite society had to be ratified by the Angelic Council
consisting of the seven Archangels, one of which was Metatron (who had the
power of veto) and the rulers of the seven planets, three of which were
Archangels. This meeting would obviously be off the record.
    Gabriella could
guess as to the reason for the conference. She had been following the
development of the Overdrive with great interest for the last few years and
already had her fingers well and truly in that pie. Her sources revealed that
Metatron and Michael shared her interest although what the old duffers had
planned for it was anyone’s guess.
    In her opinion it
was about time Metatron stepped down from his position as Demiurge. At nearly
300 years of age, Gabriella thought he was looking a bit crusty around the
edges. For that matter, Michael wasn’t that much further behind him. Both were
becoming doddery old sods; stagnant and unable to make crucial snap decisions
that would enlarge upon the Areopagite’s already significant power base.
Gabriella chose to ignore the fact that she was well over 200 herself although
looks were deceiving. Any red blooded male would have guessed her age at mid
20’s. No Angel in the ruling hierarchy looked their age thanks to extravagant
genetic tinkering and enhancement.
    Sword swinging at
her curvaceous hip, Gabriella arrived before the throne room.  Two Angelic
guards stood before her barring entry through the heavy golden doors. Known as
Hayyoth or Angels of fire, both were puffing energetically away on cigarettes.
Blue smoke suppressant fields surrounded them containing the smoke and
preventing it from moving into the rest of the corridor. Upon seeing Gabriella,
they both dropped their cigarettes and stood to attention, eyes focused on the
far wall of the corridor. The blue field’s surrounding them vanished. One of
them, Gabriella noted, had dropped his cigarette onto his tunic where it
continued to burn. She decided not to tell him.
    Gabriella looked
them up and down. Both studiously avoided making eye contact, preferring the
less dangerous option of looking at the wall.
    “I thought there
was meant to be no smoking on duty?” she said raising one eyebrow.
    Both guards
shifted uncomfortably. Nervously, one of the guards spoke up.
    “I beg your pardon
Princess. The Demiurge himself has decreed that as Angels of Fire we should
carry some item representing our namesake. He, umm, suggested we smoke.”
    “Hmmm.” Gabriella
looked dubious. Another sign that Metatron was loosing it.
    “Ah. Umm, the
Demiurge is expecting you Princess. Go right in.”
    The two guards
pushed open the golden doors and hastily moved aside to allow Gabriella to
pass.
    Striding into the
room, Gabriella glanced around, familiarizing herself with the throne room. She
hadn’t been here since the last Angelic Council, six months ago.  The room at
the heart of the Areopagite empire was 80 meters long and 20 wide. Twenty
golden pillars on each side supported an arched ceiling rising 30 meters into
the air. In between each pillar stood a Guardian Angel – the Demiurge’s
personal body guard. Scenes were depicted on the