God is Love

Deus est bellum

“You must be Lieutenant Wallender.”

“And you must be the archaeologist. I’m sorry, Oliver… Oliver Task is it?”

“Close. Oliver Trask and this is my wife, Janet. It’s nice to meet you lieutenant.”

The three people formed a circle and shook hands.

“This is my first time on the High Coast. I’ve never seen red granite cliffs like these before.”

“Follow me professor.” The Swedish Army lieutenant started on a winding path up the cliff face. “Legend has it that one thousand years ago there was a battle between the armies of two different gods on these cliffs. So much blood was shed it permanently stained the granite red. But of course, you already know all this.”

“Yes, there are many different versions of the story but the common thread is the same two gods engage in a Ragnarok type of battle every 1000 years.” Oliver stopped talking to save his breath. Climbing this steep path wasn’t easy for an out of shape man in his mid fifties.

His wife had no such trouble but she was thirty years younger than him and jogged every day. She had been a former student of his and their affair and eventual marriage had fed the gossip mill at the university. Janet carried most of the equipment they brought with them up the path.

Oliver was gasping for breath by the time they reached the top of the cliff. He was embarrassed and it reminded him of his dismal performance in the hotel bedroom with his young wife last night. He needed to lose the gut and start regular exercise.

Lieutenant Wallender pulled out a ring of keys and unlocked the gate to a high fence surrounding a stone monument on top of the cliff.

“Professor, listen to me carefully. My platoon has been stationed here for three months and when I tell you this monument is dangerous, I speak from experience.”

He gestured at the steel fence topped with coils of razor wire that gleamed in the morning sun. “I had this fence installed because my men would act erratically and become violent if they approached the monument too closely. You are the first person I have allowed inside the fence for weeks.”

“Three days ago, a large group of neo-Nazis tried to attack the site to ‘free their god’ as they put it. We had to kill four of them before the rest would surrender. This is not an interesting archeological puzzle. This is fucking dangerous.”

The lieutenant swung the gate open and held it for Oliver. “Good luck.”

He hesitated. This description was much worse than what he had been told, but he believed everything this grim officer had told him. “Janet, please wait here. I’m going to set up the camera first and I’ll be right back.”

Oliver carried the case with the video equipment through the gate and approached the monument. He passed a stone plaque with the Latin phrase ‘Finnis Belli’ or ‘the End of War.’ The prevailing theory was this plaque was a warning, but a warning of what?

He decided not to approach the monument any closer than ten feet. Before opening the case, he stopped to look at the monument from close up. The rising sun made the red stone of the structure appear to shimmer like a mirage.

Oliver opened the case and extracted a new battery for the camera. He was distracted by a sudden case of vertigo and the battery slipped out of his hand and bounced toward the monument. He stepped forward and bent down to grab for the battery. At the same time a long arm reached out of the monument to grab his hand and pull him inside.

Oliver landed hard on his back and had the wind driven out of him. He gasped ineffectually as he tried, but failed, to breathe. Three ugly, misshapen heads looked down at him with curiosity. A thick, dirt-encrusted finger poked him in the ribs.

“What is it?”

“Don’t know. Looks a little familiar but doesn’t look right either.”

A nose dripping with mucous and covered with warts snuffled at his face. “Smells like food to me!”

Oliver was picked up by his ankles to dangle in the air. At the same time, he was finally able to fill his lungs again with painful whooping breaths.

“Food, food, food!” The three trolls chanted as they danced in a circle. “Tasty snacks for handsome lads.”

One of the trolls looked up when a shadow fell over him. “Uh oh.”

His head disappeared in a blotchy scarlet mist when a hammer swung through the space previously occupied by his cranium.

Another troll looked at his dramatically shorter friend with confusion then noticed the hammer’s backswing closing in on his own handsome features. “Son of a …”

Following the second wet popping sound, the surviving troll dropped Oliver and ran away while whimpering with fear and self pity.

Oliver stood up and dusted himself off. He looked at the eight foot, red bearded giant who had been his saviour and then at the fleeing troll. “Couldn’t you hit him if you threw your hammer?”

“Throw my hammer? What kind of idiot throws away a perfectly good hammer?”

The red bearded man grabbed Oliver by the back of his shirt. He started to briskly walk down a road while propelling Oliver in front of him. “Move human. My father wants to talk to you.”

Oliver had to jog to keep up the pace. “Who’s your father?”

“He is the one who wants to talk to you.”

It was a short distance to their destination. A one-eyed, white bearded man sat behind a table in front of what Oliver thought was a gigantic wooden building. On second look he realized it was, by far, the thickest and tallest tree he had ever seen.

“What are you human? You look like a scholar.”

“I have a PhD in archaeology. My name is doctor Oliver Trask.”

“I didn’t ask your name. So, you know who I am, or at least what you think I am.”

Oliver watched as an enormous raven landed on the enormous man’s shoulder. “You’re Odin.”

“Close enough. Are you a Christian?”

“Yes.” Oliver hadn’t been to church in decades but he suddenly felt more devout than he had ever been. “Yes, very much so.”

“Good for you. A man of faith. I like Christians. Nothing is funnier than a Christian monk screaming out the ‘Our Father’ when I cut his ribs open and pull out his lungs. Do you remember those good times Thor?”

Thor smiled and nodded eagerly. “It’s nice to see a Christian again.”

“I haven’t been to church in decades.”

Odin and Thor shouted their laughter. “Look at that Thor. He went from being devout to lapsed in five seconds. At least this one has a little common sense.”

Odin drummed his fingers on the oaken table and regarded Oliver. “An educated man who isn’t stupid. A surprisingly rare combination. I will explain the gods to you human because I’m bored talking to myself for the last 1000 years that I’ve been imprisoned.”

Oliver pointed at Thor. “But you’re not alone.”

“Thor? He’s an extension of myself. Everything here is an extension of me. Thor is the young version of me. Unstoppable in battle but not very bright. He is me before I acquired wisdom. Thor, run off and kill some frost giants.”

Thor hopped to his feet and called for Tanngrisnin and Tanngnjostr.

Odin watched his son/himself fly off in his chariot while he talked to Oliver. “Lapsed Christian that you are, I assume that you see things in terms of good and evil. Heaven and hell and all that nonsense.”

“I suppose.”

“You’ve been played by your Christian God. There’s no such thing as good and evil. The devil was invented so humans could blame someone else for their nasty ways. God isn’t good either. Guess what he really is.”

“Perfection?”

“Oh, please.” Odin dug a hand under his furs and scratched at an armpit. “Before you stepped through the portal, were you living in a perfect world?”

“We try our best.”

“You try? Where’s your perfect God then? What’s he doing? Where is his perfect guidance?”

“Your Christian God is love human. Simple, flawed, useless love. I am the God of war. Your God is weak and spineless. I am strong and I rule your race with an iron hand. That is the duality that rules the human race. Love and war. Everything else is details.”

“If you’re so strong, why are you the one locked behind this portal?”

Odin slapped his hand on the thick table and split it in two. “You mock your true God! I would step on you like the ant you are but I still have use for you human.”

Oliver had been skewered by an oaken splinter that pierced his left arm. The pain and anger made him uncharacteristically defiant. “Stop calling me human. My name is Oliver.”

“Name? You don’t deserve a name. You barely deserve to be called human instead of turd. When the God of war ruled the earth there were humans who deserved their names. Warriors who killed other warriors. Warriors who ruled because they were strong, not because a majority of sheep elected them as a leader.”

“You humans are pathetic. What a bunch of whining self-obsessed sheep you’ve become. One millennia of the God of love and you’ve almost destroyed Gaia with your technology. You’re all a bunch of brain addled weaklings.”

Odin kicked away the remains of the table and leaned toward Oliver.

“Tell me human, how many drugs do you take because you’re an unhappy little child. Speak up turd! Too embarrassed to admit it are you? Munnin find out for me.”

Munnin jumped from Odin’s shoulder and swooped around Oliver in a long figure eight pattern. Oliver turned his head to watch her but lost sight of her when she flew behind him.

Munin dove toward his midsection and plunged her long beak into his abdomen. She tore a chunk out of liver and gulped it down without missing a beat.

“Prozac, Xanax and Propranolol.” Muninn told Odin in a sing song voice. “Traces of Valium he took last night.”

“Valium!” Odin roared with laughter. He bent down to look at Oliver where he sprawled on the ground with blood oozing out of his back. “What a warrior you are! You can’t even hold your sword upright.”

Odin flipped a chair upright and sat down again.

“You’ve grown up being told that God loves you. Well, that’s going to change. I don’t love you. I have nothing but contempt for the weak. I have to resist the urge to crush your head into paste so I don’t have to look at your crying face. You earn my love. I only love the strong.”

“Humans are like any child. They need a firm hand. They need clear boundaries. The God of love has coddled you, spoiled you and look at what a mess you’ve made of the world. Look at what a mess you’ve made of yourselves. I will rip your foul technology out of your hands.”

Oliver was able to twist his right arm back so he could push his hand against his bleeding wound. “How can you… How can you stop technology? That genie is out of the bottle.”

“Ha, ha, ha. I break the bottle fool. Listen to you. Lecturing your God about what I can and cannot do.” Odin grabbed Oliver by his head and picked him off the ground. He sat him down roughly on a chair. “Stop lying on the ground and crying like a baby. At least pretend to be a man.”

“I’ve watched from the sidelines your ‘amazing’ leaps in technology. The industrial age made me laugh. All of you humans looked so happy servicing your steam powered slave machines. Now you think you’ve evolved beyond your God because you can watch cat videos on your phones while you drive your planet destroying SUVs. I tremble with fear in the face of your technological superiority.”

“When I was your God, life was simple and humans were happy. Every advance in technology has made your life worse, not better.”

Odin stood over Oliver and seemed to pierce his mind with his single eye.

“The cycle is changing turd. Your love God had his millennia and now it’s my turn again. Once again, I have to clean up the mess he’s left me. Nothing like a good cull to clean out the dead wood. The world is too crowded. I’ll start with pruning your numbers by 90%, like any good gardener would.”

“But that means…”

“Yes, won’t it be glorious? Don’t worry. I don’t need nuclear weapons or any of your garbage technology. It will be done with sword and axe. Good clean fun.”

“You’re a monster.”

Odin shrugged. “I graciously accept the compliment. You’ve learned a lot about the world today. I hope you realize there’s always a price for acquiring wisdom.”

Oliver was staring up at Odin’s massive frame when Huginn dove down and pierced Oliver’s eye with a surgical precision that left his brain untouched. He screamed as he felt the liquids that had been his eyeball trickle down his cheek.

Odin roared with his echoing laugh again. “Look at his expression Huginn! What an idiot. Did you really think I was offering you a free education you little turd?”

Oliver lurched to his feet and looked toward the portal with his remaining eye. If he could just get to the portal and destroy it from the other side, he could stop this Armageddon. He stepped forward and fell down because of his lack of depth perception. He struggled upright again and stumbled awkwardly toward the portal.

“Where are you going turd? It’s time to hang you on Yggdrasil for nine days. Tradition must be honoured.”

Oliver steadily progressed toward his goal. Odin didn’t seem concerned. He was more interested in mocking Oliver and laughing at his own cruel words. Muninn and Huginn swooped around him as he reached toward the portal.

“Oliver? Oliver! Can you hear me? Are you alright?” He opened his eyes to see Janet bending over him and lightly slapping his face.

“Yes, I’m okay.” He said groggily. The lieutenant and Janet helped him to his feet.

“It looked like you disappeared for a second and then you collapsed. We rushed in and dragged you out of there. I was so worried!” Janet hugged her husband tightly.

She was surprised when he cupped her buttocks and pressed the hardness in his groin against her. “Easy tiger.” Janet disentangled herself. “Wait until we get back to the hotel.” She whispered in his ear.

He returned her pleased smile with excited anticipation. It had been one thousand years since Loki had lain with a human woman.