Demonic Possession – 1986
Wardman-Park Tower Hotel, Washington D.C.
Supernatural fire roared all around him, its choking heat driving him upwards, soaring above the pits and lower levels beneath him where the chained, tormented souls of the damned screamed in their everlasting torment. Animated skeletons scuttled between them, inflicting on their victims hideous torments, unimaginable to any but the demons of hell. Other nightmarish, indescribable creations carried on with their horrible work as was dictated by the lord of the damned. But, as the demon soared over their heads, each turned from their vile duties for a brief moment to pay homage to the servant of the Lord of Damnation that was looking down upon them. The shrieking anguish of a million souls beat upon his ears as he flew swiftly above the burning seas of lava and the bubbling plains of molten sulphur that were as endless as space itself. The deadly sin of pride surged within him as he looked down on the domain he had chosen and in which he was forever doomed to serve. Then, as the demon soared still higher, he saw his own face reflected in the superheated steam of the clouds and, despite the vivid red skin, savagely-curved horns and pointed beard, Lazaruski recognized himself.
Major General Paul Lazaruski woke up, the vivid dream still howling in his head. The clock indicated 03:00, the worst time of night when man's spirits were at their lowest and his doubts and fears raised themselves to levels far beyond those warranted by their nature. He had come to Washington to receive a medal from the President himself and that had been good. He was vain enough to appreciate the honor and the value the professional respect of his peers, respect he knew full well that he had earned. Then, hed met 'them' and hed learned he was one of them. Beside him, the woman who had sat down with him and explained everything, was sleeping quietly. Her thick, heavy mane of black hair was spread out on the pillow. Lazaruski couldnt help himself. He reached out and ran his fingers through the silk-soft curling mass, feeling her temples for any unusual bumps or ridges. No, he corrected himself, be honest, he was looking for her horns.
"I don't have a tail either." Lilliths voice was sleepy but amusement ran through the slurred words. Shed stayed with him in case the nightmares got out of control. "Bad nightmare? Would something to drink help? "
Lazaruski nodded. His mouth was dry as if the heat in his nightmare had seared it raw. And some vodka, or at least the watery stuff the Americans called vodka, might help him settle back to sleep again. But, given the nightmares, did he want to sleep? Lillith started to get up, the sheet falling away from her as she did. Lazaruski ran his eyes down her, admiring the woman who had told him she was over three thousand years old. She wasn't beautiful, not conventionally anyway. When they'd met, the heavy eyebrows, long black hair and creamy, honey-colored skin had made him think she was Jewish, but she'd told him otherwise. Not Jewish, Canaanite.
"Don't look at my feet. Please." Her voice was urgent. Lazaruski looked quizzical. This was something that the book he'd read, Miss Manners on American Etiquette, didn't cover. How to ask the woman one was sleeping with whether she had hooves instead of feet. As if she had read his mind, she chuckled. "Not hooves, vanity. A very long time ago some bad men did things to me and my feet are not pretty to look at." She thought for a second. "On the other hand, it might be an object lesson for you in why you have to be careful. Why we all do."
She swung her feet up. The smooth golden skin ended just below her ankles and changed to a piebald patchwork of red and white scarring, the discoloration now very, very old. Two of her toes were missing, others lacked nails and all that remained were distorted. Lazaruski had seen enough burn injuries on pilots who had been pulled from flaming aircraft to recognize the marks of fire although these were older, vastly older, than any he had ever seen.
"What happened?"
"An old story, not so important now. Three short-lifers, murdering thugs, did that to me. Their names were Senoy, Sansenoy and Semangelof. I know their names because, later, I had them killed. What is important is the lesson. Always remember, we have good cause to fear the short-lifers. For them, death is the final equality, the one thing that comes to them all, rich and poor, high and low. Then we come along and we have the one thing they can never have. Time. Paul, if you were one of them, you would be an old man now, your eyes failing, your strength not quite what it was. Short-lifers have what? Ten, twenty years at their best? Then its the chill of approaching death. Yet, for us, fifty years, a century, is time we can spend satisfying a whim. We have time, Paul, as much as we want. And they do not. That makes even the thought of our existence an insult to them, which is why whenever they have had a suggestion about us, a hint we may exist, they immediately turn us into the ultimate representations of evil. We call ourselves Demons out of pride and defiance but dont ever forget that is how we would be seen in the world."
Lillith got up and went to the mini-bar. When she got back, she was carrying a shot glass of vodka for Lazaruski and a chilled glass of Italian champagne for herself. Lazaruski accepted the glass and knocked back the contents, a slow smile of delight spreading across his face as he did so. "Hey, its the real thing. And come to think of it, hotel bars don't usually have proper champagne glasses, they usually have those damned flat things."
"The Seer heard you didnt approve of the vodka we have here, so he arranged for the good stuff to be delivered. And some real Italian champagne for me. Not the French stuff most hotels have."
"He knows you're here then?"
"Of course. Look, Paul, take another word of advice. Never assume the Seer doesn't know whats happening around him or that he isn't one jump ahead of the game. Igrat says he knows which way the frog will hop before the frog does. Its his job and he's had centuries of practice at it. He knew I was coming here so he sent some goodies over."
"He knew...... I thought you were... well, ummm. Well everybody does."
"I am, sometimes, when it suits us. Look, we've known each other for almost two thousand years, off and on. That's another thing you'll learn, no matter how much you like somebody, you can't stay with them all that time. Try to, a couple of centuries later, you'll be driving each other mad. Paul, whats the matter?" Lillith had seen tears forming in Lazaruskis eyes.
"It's a night for confidences isnt it? You shared one of your secrets with me, now let me show you one of mine." He reached out to the bedstand and picked up his wallet, opening it to a picture inside. It was of a young woman, fair, braided hair, gray eyes. Unmistakably Russian. Lillith looked at it.
"Your wife Paul?"
"Yes. Until she died. She just got sick and died. I've always thought that, when I died, we would be together again. Now you're telling me that it could be centuries before I die, so even that hope is taken from me. If she'd lived, we could have shared this, this gift I've got. We came from the same village, she could have been like me."
Lillith shook her head. "Whatever it is that makes us different, it doesnt run in families, or at least we dont think so. Naamah and I are related but thats not uncommon for aristocracy back then. Everybody intermarried, everybody who was anybody was related somehow. Two other demons, Bran and Branwen were brother and sister. That was a tragedy; less than a year after they realized what they were, Bran was killed when a Pict stuck a spear through him. I think they were unique, I can't think of any other case of demons who were siblings. But, Paul, some more advice? Keep short-lifers at a distance, don't let yourself get close to them. You're going to outlive them and it hurts to lose the ones you love. You know that. Its best to stay within our own. We all break that rule now and then and every time we do, we all regret it."
Lillith topped up Lazaruskis shot glass then refilled her own wine glass. She tapped her glass against his and he instinctively knocked his vodka shot back. As he did, she gave him a careful inspection. Although she hadnt let on to him, both she and the Seer were worried about him. They'd caught him very late and the transition was almost complete. Worse, he was in a business where people had regular health checks and soon, a doctor was going to see the anomalies that were developing. Mostly, demons were identified more that a decade earlier and it gave more time to arrange for a cover-up. Arranging a hasty cover was risky.
"Paul, Im going to have to take something else from you. Temporarily at least. Flying." Lazaruski stared at her, a combination of anger, distress and fear on his face. Flying was his life, the one thing he had left. "Paul, you're 61, pushing 62 years old. When did you last have a medical?"
"Three years ago. I've managed to avoid them since."
"That's good. But even at 58, you're a glaring anomaly. One that's just, just barely, explicable. At 62 you are not explicable at all. You are going to have to fail that medical. You know how to fail an eye test of course? Not too dramatically, just enough to push your eyesight below standard. Well go and see Naamah before you take your medical and she'll poison you."
"Wha-a-a-t?"
"She'll poison you. Naamah is a very skilled herbalist, probably one of the best in the world. Back when we were growing up, the difference between a doctor and a poisoner was only one of degree and intention. As a doctor, treating the sick, she's nowhere near as good as a modern physician. As a poisoner, she's without equal, this century or any other. She'll give you something thatll push your blood pressure up, make your heart a little irregular, perhaps make your joints a bit stiff. I don't know what she'll do, but it will be convincing and nobody will be able to detect it. The doctors will be very unhappy, they'll sigh and tell you that you've had an unusually good run but its over. And they'll guess thats why you ducked your medicals for the last few years. They'll probably think you bribed or blackmailed other doctors into covering up for you. You, of course, will be stricken with guilt and dreadfully hurt at not being able to fly and you'll resign from the Air Force.
"That's when we take over. I've talked to Suriyothai on your behalf. You'll come over here for a while to help with the space program and then you'll fade away. Shortly afterwards, a middle-aged Russian-American with remarkable flying skills will be recommended for a test-pilot's position with Alliance Aviation. That'll fix you up for twenty or thirty years, by which time you'll be forgotten in Russia. Then you can go back and start a new career there. Or you can go up into space. Flying advanced-technology prototypes be satisfactory for you?"
Lazaruski grinned, his melancholy forgotten if only for a while. Lillith had refilled his glass again while she had been speaking and he knocked it back before looking at the empty glass. "Don't I have to watch this stuff now? And who is Suriyothai?"
"Yes and no. Our bodies can handle injury and sickness better than short-lifers but its a matter of increments." Unconsciously, Lazaruski glanced at Lilliths feet; she flushed slightly and moved them out of sight. "That's why I can still walk. I healed better that a short-lifer and Naamah used her skills to help. You can, if you want, drink more than a short-lifer before it gets you. But it will, Paul, it will. You can die of cirrhosis of the liver, itll take longer and hurt more but you can. Drugs, smoking, both of them will kill us. Yet more advice for you, Paul. Sip at pleasures, dont gulp them. Ration yourself, leave things undone, never be in a hurry to experience something. Indulge yourself, take all the pleasures you can as fast as you can and in a couple of centuries youll have nothing left. Youll have done everything, tried everything and all you have to look forward to will be boredom. You'll be rich, when we live a long time we can't help it. The old story about mice and grains of rice is true. But, you over-indulge and all you will be able to do with your money is count it. And then you'll kill yourself.
"Our bodies heal better. Naamah thinks that its the root of our gift. She thinks the only difference between us and short-lifers is that we heal better. Our bodies repair themselves faster than age can damage them. She may be right, may be wrong, I dont know. But I do know the key to living successfully with our gift is self-discipline. Youre not the first Russian demon you know. Theres one very famous one. Discovered he wasnt aging and the discovery drove him over the top. He got what the Seer calls a bad case of the God-like Delusions and upset so many people they ganged together to assassinate him. They poisoned him, shot him, stabbed him, strangled him then tied him up and dumped him under the ice of the River Neva..."
"My God," Lazaruski gasped "Rasputin was one of us?"
Imperceptibly, Lillith sighed with relief. Shed noted Lazaruski had said us not you. It was hard work molding him, shaping his thoughts, giving him the insights and experience he had to have if he was to make the best of his gift. To survive she thought. Especially, for a demon, surviving was the first priority. He was identifying with his fellows now, the first step on the road well-taken. "Yes, Rasputin. He didn't have any help, any support and he died as a result. A sad loss in some ways, he had a remarkable mind. In another way, somebody who had to die before he destroyed us all. Tragedy. Anyway, your other question. Princess Suriyothai is better known as the Ambassador-Plenipotentiary from His Most Gracious Majesty the King of Thailand."
"The Ambassador as well?" Lazaruski thought for a moment. "But her mother died very recently?"
Lillith shook her head. "There was no mother. Suriyothai has got herself a nice little niche and tailored it to fit herself. She just goes into retreat and her daughter takes over. She's got away with it for so long that nobody even thinks about it. The Seer says that is the secret of remaining undetected. Don't hide, just make sure nobody thinks about you. That's what we do here. Nobody looks at us, who looks at minor government bureaucrats? We're just figures in the shadows. Even the women, nobody looks at our faces. When you see a woman with long luxuriant hair like ours, do you look at her face? Do you remember it? Of course not, you look at her hair, then her figure. Then you try your luck". Lazaruski flushed and looked guilty. "Right. See what I mean? "
"Lillith, Do you have any plans for the next few days? After work I mean. I've never been to Washington before, can you suggest some places for us to go?"
"As a matter of fact, I have the next few days off. Subject to emergency call of course. You heard about the NSC building?" Lazaruski shook his head. For years, ever since it was finished and we moved in weve been having problems with that building. Milk goes sour, people get sick for no apparent reason, leave bread or food out, it goes moldy overnight. Somebody brought a dog in and the poor thing was really upset. Whined all the time. Anyway. It was the bread going moldy that did it. After al-Hammar, The Seer decided that it couldnt go on any longer so he called an old friend in. One of the worlds better engineers, Izzy, came in and spend a week going over the building and found the problem. It turned out the air conditioning system was radically new when it was put up, in fact ours was one of the first buildings in Washington to have it. Izzy found that the water used in the cooling assembly was heavily contaminated with fungus and mold. It was finding its way into the air conditioning ducts and spreading. Didn't affect us of course, but the short-lifers in the building were getting sick. I think its called Legionnaires disease or something.
"So, for the next week, the building is closed down while the air conditioning system is thoroughly cleaned out. The ducts have to be scrubbed and decontaminated, the cooling water drained and the rest of the system cleaned. Then, to prevent it all happening again, we have to have a chlorinating system put in plus an ultaviolet sterilization plant. NSC is working on a skeleton staff for the time it'll take."
"Uhh Lillith, by skeleton staff, you do mean the minimum staff necessary don't you? Not a staff of skeletons?"
Lillith looked at him with her eyes widened, then she snorted with laughter. "Minimum staff essential Not a staff of skeletons."
"Just checking."
"Uh-huh. Anyhow, The Seer gave me the week to show you around and help you get adjusted. So, its up to you. Where do you want to go? If you want we can go up to Gettysburg. Its a nice drive up there, give you a chance to look at the countryside. Weathers perfect for it too."
"Sounds good. But only if you let me buy lunch. Don't tell me, The Seer was in charge at Gettysburg."
"No, we were out with Grant in the west. We didn't arrive back here until later. Look at the history of the Civil War Paul, look when the whole style of the Union strategy changed. Thats when the Seer took over. He and Grant made a deadly combination, for their enemies that is. Not too good for their own troops either. I can remember the nights when they were grinding Lees army to dust and the casualty lists came in. Grant kept driving forward and The Seer kept the replacements flowing into his units. He said the war couldnt be won until the Army of Northern Virginia was destroyed. He was right but Lee was good and it cost the Union. Anyway, Gettysburg for tomorrow then. I'll drive."
"We'd better get some sleep then." Lazaruski put his glass down, his nightmare forgotten. The he was aware that Lillith was staring at him with disbelief on her face.
"Paul, I know I advised you to sip at pleasures, don't gulp them but this is ridiculous."
"Lillith?"
"You've never read the Jewish Mystical Karballah have you?" Lazaruski shook his head. "You should. I'm mentioned in it. Quite prominently in fact. Paul Mikhailovich Lazaruski, you have the Queen of Seductresses and the Patron-Demoness of the Succubi in your bed and you want to sleep? "