Chapter Eighteen: Darkness

 ~~/*\~~ Ryder ~~/*\~~

“You look good on TV, boss.” Ryder reported into his phone. “What’s this text message I’ve got, saying the newsroom is closed?”

“Yeah, the streets are getting too dangerous.” Dion told him. “The protests are full blown riots, and the looters are stealing anything not nailed down. Keep your phone charged if you can. The power grid’s becoming unreliable.”

“Right. What’s the latest on Stage Three?” Ryder asked, still a journalist.

“Word is that some of the militaries are disbanding because of the economic crash. No pay, no rations. The Generals and Governments are turning over their resources to the Coalition.”

“Makes sense. Either the Generals tell their troops to join the U.N.; or their people will fortify into militias and set up fiefdoms for themselves.” He felt a shudder. “I’ve seen this movie, boss. It’s falling apart.”

“Yeah, well… You might be right. Funny thing about being a journalist, it all feels like something happening on television, even when we’re filming it.” Dion said flatly. “We’re going on the air in a few minutes with a call from the Coalition to ‘all loyal citizens’, telling them to make themselves available to any Coalition officer they can find.”

“What?” Ryder was stunned. “Why?”

“The gang violence has turned the highways into shooting galleries. The Coalition is shooting back, but it’s keeping them from organizing. Word is, Stage Three is making door-to-door searches, and they can’t get their people in enough places.”

(Author’s Note: The purpose of this scene is two-fold. First, it’s to further demonstrate the fulfillment of Luke 21:25, 26. It says there: “People will become faint out of fear and expectation of the things coming upon the inhabited earth, for the powers of the heavens will be shaken.” I’ve spent the story building up the earthly part. I haven’t gone into details on the ‘visible’ supernatural aspects; mostly because there’s no clear indication of what it will look like; though Chapter 18 of the ‘Pure Worship’ book says “The opposers will see things that cause them extreme anxiety… To their horror, they will realize that they miscalculated when they attacked Jehovah’s people. They will be forced to know the Creator in his role as military commander, Jehovah of armies.”

Secondly, I wanted to build up the prophecy in Revelation 16:14, where it says “They are, in fact, expressions inspired by demons and they perform signs, and they go out to the kings of the entire inhabited earth, to gather them together to the war of the great day of God the Almighty.” In this story, the ‘Kings’ have done so by forming the Coalition, but I wanted to include all the worldly military and political forces.)

“They’re farming out their Final Offensive to locals?” Ryder was stunned. “That’s sure to make trouble.”

“What else is there?” Dion sounded like he’d given up. “With most of my newsroom staff working from home, I’m reduced to putting up graphics on our air. The Coalition emails me updates, and I’m putting it up. Gordon fled town days ago with his family.” There was a familiar chime coming from the background. “Hang on, something just came in… Sonofa-” Dion snarled hard enough that the phone gave feedback. “They’re calling for reinforcements.”

“The Coalition?” Ryder blinked. “In our town?”

“They’re putting their ‘hit list’ up. Apparently, they can do that. There’s a list of almost two hundred addresses here; and they want us to put it on the air within the hour.” His voice lowered. “The part that has me worried… is why they’re calling for more people.”

~~/*\~~

“This is the last of the food and water.” Del said quietly.

“Word is, there’s supplies at the Hospital. They’ve got a Soup Kitchen…” Nate said. “Of course, to get there, we’d have to leave.”

Del nodded. “The problem is, I can think of a hundred ways to rationalize it, just for a few minutes.”

Outside, there was the rumble of engines coming to a halt, and more doors slamming. They’d all heard it happen a few times. Someone was gathering outside their door. They all traded a look, having the conversation without saying a word.

“It’s not a surprise.” Alvin offered eventually. “It’s not like Witnesses have been trying to hide their beliefs. We literally spent our lives going door to door. Hiding from people has never been part of what we do.”

“No, I guess not.”

“And it’s not like being attacked is unexpected. In fact, it’s the next necessary step.”

“I know. I even believe it.” Nate nodded. “But a little part of me, just can’t help but feel this might be exactly what it looks like.”

“That ‘little voice’ isn’t necessarily coming from you, brother.” Alvin offered. “Besides, I wonder if Daniel had the same thought when they dragged him to the edge of the lion’s pit.”

“True enough.”

Paige came padding down the stairs quietly, sliding in next to Nate on the couch, with nowhere else to sit. “Actually, I’ve been thinking about Job, more than any of the prophets.”

“Oh?” Alvin asked, interested. “Why Job?”

“Job was isolated.” Paige explained. “His time of trial, he was more or less the only one that had to hold on. How many people can say they were Satan’s own personal, exclusive target? Even Job didn't know why the world suddenly came crashing down on his head. And he didn’t know when it would stop, or what would ever get better for him. We do know.” She let out a breath. “At least, I keep telling myself that. I know Jehovah will protect ‘His People’, but when I picture that, I think of a ‘great crowd’. Somehow, it doesn’t seem like the place for a miracle when it’s a few people in an ordinary living room. Job was one man.”

“Somewhere in the city, a single Witness is sitting alone in a small home, waiting to see what comes through his door first. A soldier with a gun, or an angel on horseback.” Alvin commented. “After the Flood, there were eight. After Sodom and Gomorrah, there were three. Daniel, and Job, and Jonah, and probably a hundred others. God saves individuals all the time.” He shrugged. “I find it comforting. If there was even one more person who should be in here with us, they would be. God doesn’t ‘overlook’ anyone.”

“That I can vouch for.” Del put in. “It took two miraculous coincidences just to get me into this house with you.”

There was a moment of silence. Somewhere outside, they heard the distant echo of gunshots.

“It’s not about what we feel right now.” Nate said finally. “I… was a witness for about a year. My mother became a sister when I was just barely a teenager. My father refused, because of his career. It caused a lot of tension in the house. My brother and I studied with mom, but… there was just no way to separate what we were learning from the problem of choosing sides between our parents. So everything got put on hold, and… dad started staying later and later at the office.” He sighed. “Then years later, mom got sick, and I moved her in with me to look after her. She still went to meetings, no matter how sick she got, and I took her along.” He rubbed his eyes, and found Paige holding his hand. “After a few lessons, I could see it coming.”

“See what?”

“This. All of this. Everyone who put ten minutes of effort into looking at global trends could see we were on a collision course with ourselves, one way or another.” Nate admitted. “The world was going to collapse if it kept going, and the Witnesses were the only ones who seemed to think that God would do something about it.”

“That the only reason?” Alvin asked.

Nate felt like he wanted to blush at the scrutiny. “I could see everything in the world coming to a head all at once. Population, economy, politics, technology… It all seemed to be building to something, and it felt like it was all going to happen at the same time. Then my mom showed me a breakdown of Jesus’ words at Matthew 24:34.”

Automatically, Alvin drew his Bible and looked it up. “Truly I say to you that this generation will by no means pass away until all these things happen.”

“The brothers have revised their interpretation of that a few times over the years. But it struck me that every interpretation had a time limit. No church I’ve ever heard of has tied themselves to a timeframe. Not regarding the future. The Witnesses had a theoretical limit of when Paradise would come. They weren’t interested in leaving any ‘wriggle room’, in case they wanted to play it out further.”

Alvin nodded. “The time was never up to us. The day when Jehovah would take action was chosen long before any of us were born. When Jesus was on Earth, even he didn’t know when. Time’s always been running out for everyone in this world.”

“But not for us.” Del said quietly, thinking of his wife.

There were more car engines audible outside. More doors opening and slamming. It had been days since anyone had been willing to make unnecessary journeys. And now there were multiple people stopping near their house. Whoever it was, they weren’t worried about being seen by the whole street. Alvin could hear Agent Mercer shouting to organize people outside, and little by little a chant began to echo, up and down the street. “Burn! Them! Out! Burn! Them! Out!”

Nate felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand up. “It’s really happening.”

~~/*\~~ Satau ~~/*\~~

The Sun gods were the most famous, most powerful of Egypt. Lords of all, including the other gods. Egypt was a desert nation. They lived under the sun all year round. They shivered through every night, longing for the dawn, they baked under its heat, and gloried in every beautiful sunrise and sunset. The Sun, of all the gods, was the one that was too great for them. They could look and touch the creatures, swim the rivers; but the Sun burned the eyes of the most devout worshipers. Those that traveled to other nations knew that Egypt was famous for two things above all: The endless sands, and the relentless sun.

And yet, as Jambres led the Priests in ritual prayers for the evening, invoking Amon-Ra’s power, Satau found himself watching the sunset, as though saying goodbye.

~~/*\~~

At first, he thought it was a fitful night’s sleep. He woke up, and it was dark. He went back to sleep. It felt… colder than usual.

He awoke again, this time more awake than before. But it was still pitch black. Darker than it ever was, in fact.

Then memory caught up, and Satau sat upright in his bed.

Darkness. Not just a dark night, or a dark room. Total absence of light. Total absence of everything, in fact. There were no vague outlines, no shadows to offer distance, no distant points of torchlight. Nothing but total blackness.

For once, living in the Palace was the worst part. All the other Plagues, the Palace was the least affected, as all resources flowed that way. But this time, it was the worst place to live, because it was the largest, and most complicated structure. Satau found himself trying to remember the layout beyond his room, finding his clothes by feel.

He was hungry. How was he going to find his way to food?

It wasn’t just an absence of light. The darkness was pressing in on him like he was drowning in ink. He could feel the weight of it, though he couldn’t grasp anything as he reached. He leaned into it, but it had no power to carry the weight. It just pressed into him from all directions. He felt smothered by the dark, and found himself growing short of breath in panic.

(Author’s Note: Exodus 10:21 describes the darkness as ‘so thick it could be felt’. If this was a metaphor for how dark it was, or if it was actually tactile against your skin, is somewhat less clear. I have chosen to make it literal, but it won’t be a major plot point.)

He could hear people waking up, trying to start their day. Things were being bumped and knocked over constantly. There were calls and cries, fear thick in their voices. After an hour of that, the calls turned to wailing.

Unable to sit still, Satau made his way over to the lantern beside his bed, and tried to light it by feel. It took a while, but eventually he could feel the heat of the small flame in his oil lamp. But there was no light from it. Not even a lessening of the blackness. He leaned closer to the lamp, trying to make out the flame, and nearly singed his nose. The lamp was right before his eyes and he couldn’t see it.

What if it’s not the world? What if it’s me? What if the ninth Plague is actually blindness? What if the whole nation is struck blind?

“HELP!” Satau cried out before he could help himself. “Someone HE-E-ELP!”

A chorus of panicked cries answered him. Everyone in the Palace was in the same state. There was no help coming because there was nobody else left.

Satau limped around the room, stubbing his toes constantly. He made it as far as his window, but there was nothing. No sun, no moon, no stars. He made his way around the walls until he reached his doorway. Still nothing. No torches lit, no way to tell one room from any other.

Giving up, he shuffled his way back to his bed until he walked into it, and then he clung to it.

Maybe Takarut can see? Satau thought in a rush, clutching at his sheets. He’d come to save me, wouldn’t he?

Satau stayed there for half the day, straining his eyes to see anything he could. The darkness was all-encompassing. For a time, he wondered if perhaps he was dreaming it. But he could hear the rest of the people in the Palace, crying out in fear. Some were calling for help, others for loved ones, some for food.

Every now and then, there was the sharp smell of smoke from outside, and a screech of agony that dragged on and on. Satau could tell that others had tried what he did with his lamp, setting something alight to be able to see, and accidentally burning themselves, or even their homes.

Hours passed. Satau grew hungrier, trembling with fear. We lock people in dark cells as a form of punishment. He thought. There could be a hundred enemies just out of my reach, and I wouldn’t know it. He swung his arms around, as if trying to swat away the suffocating nothingness, searching for anything that was there. He bumped the table with his lamp, and pulled his arm back in terror. If he’d knocked over a burning lamp full of oil he was a dead man…

But there was no flame. His lamp had burned itself out an hour before, and he had no way to know it. Finally, his stomach roaring, he knew he had to try for it, if only because he couldn’t spend three days in bed; when he heard a familiar voice.

It was his father.

“All right! Hear me!” The High Priest roared, loud enough that every other voice suddenly went silent. “We’re all in the same situation, so we need to help each other. Those of you who know what room you are in for certain, go to the doorways, and remain there. Anyone at Acolyte level or lower, consider those rooms your posts for the duration of this darkness. When someone is passing by, you will announce their location. All of us know the way around our own spaces. Your voices are now signposts to guide everyone around the Palace.”

It worked. The cacophony of isolated, frightened voices were now getting organized.

“Use caution as you feel your way around.” Jambres added. “As far as we can tell, the torches and firepits that we used during the night are still burning, but impossible to see. Don’t risk burning yourselves, because the Healers are blinded as well. Remember to help each other. If anyone gets in the way, we all lose our way right now.”

~~/*\~~

“I wish you wouldn’t do that.” Tzioni said to Leahe as she came in. “It’s dangerous out there right now.”

“It’s amazing. All of Egypt is invisible.” Leahe said in awe. “They can’t even see us here in Goshen.”

Almost as soon as she had shut the door to their dwelling, there was a knock, and she reopened it. Takarut was there. “I-I know that if I went back to the City to try and find anyone that I cared about I’d be blind the second I left, but my house is empty, and-”

Tzioni had already crossed the room, shushing him. “You’re welcome to wait it out here with us, young man.” He gestured at his daughter. “Leahe tells me that several of the elderly ones that she helps have also taken in their neighbors. We have three days without work for the first time; but some of the domestic slaves were kept in the homes of Egypt. So far, they haven’t all come back to Goshen, so there are a few families who are taking the wait with difficulty.”

(Author’s Note: Scripture says two things on the subject of the Ninth Plague. Firstly, Egyptians did not stir from their homes for three days. Secondly, that the Israelites were protected. This protection was described as ‘having light in their dwellings’, in Goshen. But I wondered: What if some of them didn’t live in Goshen full time? The construction workforce would have, but when Joseph was a slave, he would have almost certainly lived in his Master’s house. It stands to reason that any in Egypt who kept Hebrews as household Slaves would not have sent them back to Goshen at the end of a workday. So would those Hebrews be blinded by the darkness, or be the only ones with the power to see? Since Scripture doesn’t say, I have not made it a plot point, beyond this line.)

“In such times, it’s a blessing to have the support of brothers.” Leahe said automatically. “I won’t pretend we’ve experienced three days of darkness, or three days of rest, as a people. But we all know what it is to be scared, to be isolated, to wonder about our loved ones, and be able to do nothing but pray, and give thanks for every day we survive.”

Takarut twitched. “Leahe, practically every time we talk, you remind me that I’m not a slave. But just for tonight, can I be ‘part of the tribe’?”

“Indeed you can.” Tzioni said. “Takarut, for a while now I haven’t been sure of you, because of your heritage. Accepting our God and rejecting all others isn’t the same thing. Perhaps if you hadn’t sworn yourself to Jehovah, you’d be blinded right now too, even here in Goshen. If there was ever an indication that any of us had the approval and blessing of Jehovah God, it’s right now. You’re here with us. It’s not an accident.”

(Author’s Note: There is no mention at all of Egyptians who sided with the Hebrews, or stayed with them, until the Exodus began. This entire storyline with Takarut is entirely my own invention. Some plagues hit areas, like the hail. Some Plagues hit everyone, like the Nile. Some plagues hit individuals, like the boils and sores. An Egyptian in Goshen could expect to be safe from the Hail, but probably not the boils. After all, if it was a safe place, Pharaoh could have just moved his Court there. Making Takarut a committed servant of Jah before this point was my way of protecting him without having to invent one way or another. The purpose of this plotline isn’t to save Takarut, but to demonstrate the contrast between what the servants of Jehovah, and the subjects of Pharaoh went through.)

Leahe looked less sure, but she wouldn’t contradict her father, and Takarut reclined at the table with them. “So, I was thinking about what Moses and Aaron said at the last gathering.” Takarut said, eager to explore his new ideas. “There might be more to the darkness than we think.”

“Oh?” Tzioni smiled, pleased as any of the Elders to have an eager new student. “Well, let’s explore that then.”

~~/*\~~

There was food in the kitchens, brought in quickly after the Locusts had finally left. The Kitchenhands were given baskets of ingredients, and made their way through the Palace slowly. Whenever they felt their way along as far as a doorway, they came across someone who was there. They were informed where in the Palace they were, and how many people were in the room. The servants handed out food until their baskets were empty, and they began the slow walk back to the stairs, shuffling their way down, one step at a time.

There was no sound from outside, so the rest of the country was not going about their day. Those that lived closest to the Temple or the Palace were those that worked there. Satau could hear some of the Priests vainly trying to unseal the doors for morning Rituals, but so far they had failed. Some of the Acolytes were trying to begin morning Prayers, knowing the words by rote, but apparently only half of them were there. Someone was sobbing hysterically, while others tried to shush them. Some were offering kindness, others were offering threats to make them be silent.

Do we become better, or worse as people when nobody can see what we do; including ourselves? He wondered.

~~/*\~~

All of Goshen was filled with song. It echoed out of every home, into the silent streets. Most could hear their neighbors and joined in, each song of praise and courage increasing as one household after another took up the tune. At the end of each song was applause, rejoicing in the fellowship. Walls and darkness separated them, but everyone was united by their shared connection to Jehovah God.

Some of the animal tenders were worried for their animals, and called them in around the stables; if only to keep them closer. The animals didn’t seem concerned by the darkness. They were mostly grazing animals. They ate when they were hungry, and they slept when they were tired. They knew not to wander too far from the herder's voice. They had no concept of timekeeping.

(Author’s Note: The animals are not mentioned at all in the Bible record. Scripture says they had light in their dwellings, but if that extends to the dwellings of the animals is an open question. How do animals usually react to darkness? They treat it like night.)

For once, the Hebrews didn’t have to hide their food. Their supplies had been protected from the worst of the Plagues, and they’d had to keep them hidden as Egypt grew hungrier. For once, they had both cover from watching eyes, and time to enjoy their meals. Leahe made an evening of trying new preparations for the first time. In the narrow streets and close quarters of Goshen, neighbors were able to find their way to each other’s doors, even in the dark; and what followed were three days of shared meals and company.

It was almost a party. In one house after another, crowds of neighbors would gather, bringing food and drink, sharing stories and prayers, and songs of praise.

After six months of disasters, after a lifetime of labor and abuse, there was absolutely nothing to do for three days but eat, rest, and celebrate their coming deliverance.

At the end of the first night, after Takarut had fallen asleep and their other guests had made their way home, calling out to assure their hosts that they had made it through the blinding darkness; Leahe spoke to her father quietly. “It’s strange.” Leahe admitted. “I’ve always known that our Freedom was promised, but I’ve been promised that all my life. Even after six months of these amazing signs, I can’t…” She shook her head ruefully. “Even now, I can’t really imagine what it will be like. What does a free woman do? Because I don’t know.”

“That’s because you’ve never experienced it before.” Tzioni assured her. “Nor have I. But living lives of faith and obedience to Jehovah comes with its own rewards, even before we achieve the promises for the future. Some of those benefits have been thrown into extremely sharp clarity the last few months.”

“They have.” Leahe admitted. “I know the whole point of the plagues is to get our freedom, but Pharaoh has been saying ‘no’ for months. I’m actually starting to wonder if we might actually go free after this one. Father, I’ve been listening to your lessons, and joining the whole community when you lead us in Prayer. It’s been that way my whole life. The things Moses has said, some of the… ideas that he’s proposed. I feel like I could sit and talk about them all day.”

“And we still have two days of this ahead.” Tzioni beamed. “We should invite other neighbors in, too. The more of us there are, the more perspectives, the more we learn.”

Leahe nodded eagerly. “And when we actually leave Egypt, we could spend days and days doing nothing else, couldn’t we?” She wanted to laugh. “I’ve never felt closer to Jehovah God than I do right now.”

~~/*\~~

Satau attended the Royal Court because he found his way to his father. Jambres didn’t get out of reach for half a day; so when he was summoned to the Throne Room, Satau had to go along.

The Court was invisible. Most of them had nothing to say. There were no reports to make, because none of them could find any of their servants.

“We’re keeping on top of things in the Palace.” Bakennifi reported to Pharaoh. “Food and water is being distributed. There are ropes being strung to guide people to the privies and such. I have people posted at every staircase to prevent falls and tumbles. It hasn’t gone flawlessly. We have a number of people being treated by the healers. Incidentals, mainly. People who cut themselves, or tripped and caused injury. The worst accident was a broken neck when someone went out a window, trying to see if there was sunlight.” His voice changed. “But there are more… deliberate actions.”

“Two of my acolytes have stumbled across bodies. Multiple bodies. With people so… tense, it’s an open question whether or not there have been suicides, or murders. There’s simply no way to identify the victims, or the cause, until we get some light back. Examination is currently impossible.”

“But the real question is everywhere else. For the most part, we have no idea what’s happening beyond the Palace.” Jannes put in. “Our method of using people to direct foot traffic around them is one that we’ve been trying to repeat elsewhere, with limited success. Thankfully, most homes are a great deal smaller, and people have been keeping some food and water stores close, in response to the other Plagues that have already passed. The average household can take care of themselves for three days-”

“You announced the number?!” Pharaoh demanded.

“We didn’t. They knew already. Hebrews have been declaring the coming of the Plagues for a while now.” Jannes told him.

“Why wasn’t I informed of this?” Pharaoh demanded.

Nobody answered, and the silence stretched for a long time. In the dark, everyone was on their own, including the King.

“When the Nile turned red, we explored records from all across the world, and all our trading partners, looking for precedent.” Jambres broke the stillness, still managing to put the same persuasive rolling thunder into his voice, though his audience was completely invisible. “We found mention of a volcano going off in the far east. The resultant toxic smoke out of the earth turned the river red with sulfur, but it also filled the sky with ash and smoke so thick and powerful that it drowned out the sun for days at a stretch. If a volcano at the Nile’s headwaters was the origin of these Plagues, then it stands to reason that the ash could have been moving as a cloud, much slower, with the weather. Now that it’s reached our borders-”

“Did. I. Ask?” Pharaoh snarled. “It was two or three plagues ago you were begging me to surrender. A plague or two before that when you admitted it was supernatural. Don’t go tying yourself in knots to explain it away now just because you’re scared of the dark.”

Jambres fell silent. In the darkness, it was the same as running away.

“We’ve been experimenting with the torches, trying to make them burn brighter and hotter.” Jannes commented from the other side of the room. Most of those assembled were clinging to the walls as though they were anchors. It was rumored that Pharaoh hadn’t stood up from his Throne for two days. “No luck. We’ve tried all sorts of chemical combinations known to cause brighter light. It simply hasn’t worked, but it’s slow going. We’re experimenting with chemicals and tools we can’t see. We’re equally likely to hurt ourselves terribly if we pick up the wrong container. Also, the fires still burn. We can tell. Our Guards report they can smell the smoke of fires coming from the greater city. The current opinion is that some people are lighting fires, trying to see, and they’re getting out of control. Half the town could be on fire, but we can’t see the flame. That’s the greatest risk at this point.”

“You can burn half a city without seeing flames? So there’s no solution?!” Someone shouted, and Satau couldn’t even tell who.

The note of panic was all it took for everyone to freak out, talking over each other. The room was now full of voices. Everyone trying to speak over each other, offer solutions, place blame. Conversation broke down as everyone turned on each other, scoring points, challenging opinions, letting loose as fear turned to anger.

Three days. Satau told himself desperately. In three days, this one will be over. Because if it isn’t, we’ll all go insane.

“Goshen has light.” Satau said suddenly.

Somehow, in the middle of all the scholars and wise men, this one simple sentence, spoken softly and respectfully, cut through the noise.

“How have you been to Goshen?” Jannes demanded.

“I haven’t. But these Plagues have long since stopped affecting them.”

(Author’s Note: There are a few places where I’ve had to invent specifics for the plagues. This is the largest one. If Goshen as a whole had light, it would be easy for Egypt to find out. If it was limited to their homes, Egypt likely wouldn’t have seen. That slight uncertainty is why it won’t be a plot point beyond this mention. Either way, it had been half a dozen Plagues since the Hebrews had felt the effects.)

~~/*\~~

Satau left the Throne Room. Nobody noticed that he hadn’t waited to be dismissed. Until they spoke, there was no way to know who was in the room at all. He had to feel his way around a few people, but he got to the door. He had to feel his way along the wall, following the direction of voices in the dark, until he found the room that he was mostly sure was his own. He found the bed, and settled into it, grateful to find the familiar smell of his pillow.

He stayed there for the rest of the day, sleeping fitfully. With his eyes wide open he couldn’t tell what time it was. The air seemed cooler for a time, then a little warmer, but he had no idea if that meant anything. He had felt his way to his chamberpot, but it grew heavy by the second day. He felt his way to his window and threw the contents out, hoping he wasn’t hitting anyone below.

There was no real way to be sure if he was awake or asleep. Both were just the same darkness. His consciousness came and went, and he had no idea if he’d napped or slept for weeks.

Three days. He told himself. It’s been at least that, surely? A day ends when the sun sets. What if there is no sun?

Jehovah God… He prayed, alone in the dark, coiled under the blankets like a scared child. You win. I recognize You as the only God that is active over Egypt. The sun, moon and stars are all Yours to command. The animals, the sky, the dirt under my feet, the breath in my lungs, the animals that fly, crawl, and swim are all under Your authority. You are God over all other gods.

For a time, I feared that Your authority was only pain and fear. But now I know better. This would have stopped months ago, if Pharaoh gave your people the same consideration You gave to the Hebrew’s livestock. You didn’t miss. The gadflies, tiny as they are, did not bite a single person who worshiped You. Your hand held the tiniest of creatures tame, though they were surely in their millions. The same hand that could black out the sun at will. You could have delivered your message directly, written your demands in the stars themselves; but you gave it to Moses, a shepherd. Pharaoh thought that was a sign of foolishness, but to the Hebrews, it’s surely a comfort. After the brutality of a King who made himself a god, you chose such a meek man to be Your messenger to a nation of demoralized, broken down people.

And to me. I have heard Moses' message, and I want Your people to go free. And I want to go with them, because as futile as it is to stand against You, it’s clear that Your protection undoes anything that swords, or hunger, or fear can offer in opposition.

If you’ll have me.

Amen.

~~/*\~~

The sun rose on the third day, as Moses had promised. Satau’s eyes hurt in the light, and he found himself squinting at everything.

I can see. He thought, over and over again. I can see. My eyes still work. You can get up now.

His legs were wobbly after days of staying in his bed, or mincing around the Palace, afraid to trip over anything. Seeing his room for the first time in three days was an odd experience. He hadn’t moved, but expected everything to be different somehow.

Making his way through the Palace, he saw the changes. Broken shards everywhere, some things knocked over, and never picked up. There were other, more disquieting signs. A few of the longer staircases had bodies at the bottom of them, never found or taken away. There were people in the street demanding to know where missing property had gone, stolen under cover of darkness. Some people had apparently tried to escape the darkness and walked into pitfalls, or given up and huddled in the street, completely lost.

Seeing the aftermath, what Satau noticed most was that nobody was really trying to put things right again. The darkness had shaken people enough that most of them could do nothing more than clutch at their family members, staring up at the clear blue morning sky. It was so absurdly normal a day that Satau found himself watching it, waiting for something else to strike.

Satau knew he was meant to go to the Shrines, maybe even the Throne Room. His father would almost certainly be there. But he didn’t. He went instead to the stables, and collected saddle bags. He would need to take some provisions, or at least have something to offer his new neighbors, when he arrived in Goshen.

~~/*\~~

The King hadn’t left his Throne for three days, unwilling to admit that he couldn’t find his way back to his own bed without someone to lead him there. Three days, unable to find his way beyond his own throne. The state of him was brutal to look upon. Everyone else in Egypt was at least rested. There was a foul smell coming from somewhere, and nobody was game to look for the source while the King was watching. He had huge dark circles under his eyes, he grunted quietly with every movement, his face unshaven and yellowed…

The Queen came in, looking resplendent as ever, and her attendants followed with trays of food and drink, bringing them straight to Pharaoh as the Court struggled to report on what was left of Egypt. The royal tasters were at the door, taking judicious bites and sips of everything before the food reached the Throne.

Looking towards the door for his son, Jambres caught a glimpse of the movement. Nobody was looking in the Queen’s direction as she held a goblet of drink. The movement was subtle and practiced. Having long-mastered sleight of hand, Jambres saw the motion. She’d slipped the goblet to her other hand, pulling a quick switch. She was now carrying the one that the taster had sampled for herself, and the other was being carried by the attendants to Pharaoh.

She’s going to poison him in front of the whole Court. Jambres thought in awe. Under the cover of three days of darkness, anything could happen in the Royal Kitchens. The Plague is her cover, just as we’d planned. I’m witnessing a regime change, right now.

Ramla took the cup to Pharaoh, and sat easily beside him, cool and composed.

Pharaoh hadn’t eaten in more than two days. He ate as fast as dignity would allow. He was getting closer to the goblet she had put before him.

“We’re still getting an account of the damage. Not all our people have checked in yet.” Bakennifi reported, looking weak and bowed with whatever neglect he’d had to go through during the long night. “But it looks like we lost people to accident, and… suicide. It’ll be days before we get exact figures. And of course, there were the animals that couldn’t handle the dark for so long.”

Pharaoh was half-sunk into his Throne. “I’ve already summoned Moses.” He said, slurring a bit around his mouthful of food, gripping the goblet. “If Moses is half the leader he’ll need to be, he’ll respect the idea of a strategic compromise. They have leverage, no question, so there’s middle ground now.”

Jambres’s eyes were fixed on the Goblet as the King lifted it… and then set it down, untouched. Moses had arrived in the doorway. Pharaoh left the tray, half-finished, and stepped down from his throne to greet his visitors. “Moses. Aaron. I welcome you back to the Royal Court. May your names, and that of Jehovah your God be blessed.”

It was by far the most generous greeting he’d ever offered them. Moses and Aaron bowed respectfully, as they did each time. “Pharaoh, lord of Egypt. We have returned, as promised, on the fourth day. We are glad to see that your Court has come through the days of darkness.”

“Gentlemen, we need to bring an end to this whole wretched affair.” The Pharaoh said seriously. “And now we have room for compromise at last. You see, my reasons for saying no have been political and economic. But with the events of the last six months, I can honestly say my people are more interested in ending it than winning it… And I am forced to admit that economically speaking, there are worse things than sending your whole workforce away.”

Jambres took a shuddering breath. It looked like this was it. On more than one occasion, the King had offered surrender, but when he was only pretending, he would dismiss the Court first to save face. This time, they were all there watching. Is this over?

The King made his offer. “Moses, Aaron… You may take your people, including the women and children, and go out into the wilderness. But in return, you must leave your livestock. The sheep and the cattle that your people have? It will remain ours. Financially, it’s an excellent deal. I’ve had my people draw up a guess of what it would cost to purchase all your people at any ordinary slave market, and this is a very cheap price.”

“No.” Moses said quietly.

Pharaoh’s smile vanished so fast that it was hard to believe it had ever been there. “Now think carefully, old man. We can end this right now. It’s your side that’s cost us so heavily. You can consider it a bargain price for a whole nation, or you can consider it reparations for all my people have lost already. Egypt needs to rebuild, and we’re willing to do so without our slaves. Take your families, leave your livestock.” He glared. “Is it really worth it to keep this going, for the sake of a few animals?”

“We’re leaving. All of us. We’re taking our livestock. All of them.” Aaron countered forcefully. “We are going to make sacrifices and worship our God in the wilderness. Our animals will be needed to make the journey.”

“And we won’t know how many of them we will need to sacrifice until we get there.” Moses put in.

Pharaoh was getting angry now. “I’ve made you the best offer that any King has ever given to his property. Take it. Declare victory. What was the point of these economic attacks if you didn’t care about the deal you’d get?”

“That’s the point you never understood, Pharaoh.” Aaron returned. “We make no attacks. We have no power to make the water turn to blood, or to make the sun go dark. You aren’t negotiating with us.”

“That’s not true.” Pharaoh pounced, getting louder. “I’ve seen you do it. These things start and stop at your command.”

“If Jehovah decided that the storm should continue, then it would. If God decided to show no mercy, then the boils would still be on you even now. We cannot overrule Him. If you struck us down, then there would be another. If you struck down a hundred prophets, then the animals or the stones would be capable of crying out the instruction from God.”

“An instruction that you have ignored repeatedly, to your own destruction.” Moses added in. “Let My People Go.”

“Get out!” Pharaoh snapped, throwing his untouched goblet at them. The liquid within splashed out across the floor. “If I see either of you again, I’ll kill you. Maybe your Jehovah will just send another, but I’d be fine with that at this point. If you ever approach this room, or myself; I’ll feed you to my wife’s cats, slice by slice.”

Jambres didn’t allow himself to react as he watched the liquid spread out across the marble. Moses and Aaron had just doomed themselves. One sip, and the Prince would have made it his first order. The Queen slumped, just a little, but so did all the Royal Court.

Moses nodded easily. “As you have spoken, I will not seek an audience again.”

Jambres shivered. Whatever happened next, Moses was certain that Pharaoh would call for him. Pharaoh had pretended surrender more than a few times by now. It had been meant as a way to get Moses to stop the Plagues, but now Moses had taken the upper hand. He wouldn’t try to stop anything until Pharaoh begged him to come.

Moses and Aaron turned to go. Moses made it five feet closer to the door before he froze. His head tilted, as though he’d heard something. Aaron didn’t hear it, for he kept walking, and then looked back in surprise when he realized Moses wasn’t with him.

Moses was still for a few moments, and then he turned back to the Throne. His face had changed. Before there had always been placid humility, maybe even nerves at approaching the King. But this time Moses was feeling something else.

Anger.

“It has come to this.” Moses said. He didn’t pass word to Aaron. He spoke aloud to the Court himself. “Jehovah has said that He is bringing one more Plague upon you. At midnight, Jehovah God will slay all the firstborn of Egypt, of every family. From the Prince of Pharaoh, sitting on his throne, to the lowliest slave girl turning a threshing mill. Every. Single. Firstborn. In Egypt. Man and Beast.”

Dead silence.

Pharaoh’s face changed. Jambres had been expecting rage, or scorn. Instead he saw fear. Deep down, even the King was getting ‘superstitious’.

Moses however, was furious. “We could have stopped this at any time. All you had to do was say the word, and we would have been gone months ago. By midnight your servants will be begging us to leave.”

Someone in the Court was sobbing, but nobody took their eyes off Moses to see who it was.

“By morning, you won’t even try to stop us. Not so much as a dog will bark as we pass!” Moses declared. “At midnight, there will be an outcry in all of Egypt, such has never been heard before, nor will ever be again!”

Moses stormed out, furious. Aaron gave chase, as stunned as the rest of them.

The Court dispersed, without Pharaoh’s leave. All of them rushed to talk to their people, their loved ones. Orders were given that guards be placed everywhere, even more security at the Palace…

Jambres turned to go, and found he could barely walk. His legs were wobbling.

The Queen suddenly appeared at his side, wringing her hands. “There has to be something you can do. Some appeal you can make to Anubis…”

Jambres couldn’t answer her.

“He won’t do it.” Ramla blurted, desperate. “It has to be a bluff. Something to shock us out of the stalemate? Moses or Jehovah, it hardly matters. A wholesale slaughter of children?”

“Not just Children. How many of our firstborn have grown up?” Jambres heard his voice say.

Ramla stared at him, stricken. “I… I knew it was you.” She said finally. “You and Jannes, who organized the Coup. I knew it was you. I never turned you in because I needed you, for Nem-ur. When he became Pharaoh, he would have needed you and his teacher to help him rule in all the ways I couldn’t advise him. I-I thought-”

“You thought that if Moses ever brought a death plague, it would be on the King, and not on his son.” Jambres nodded, unsurprised. “I always wondered if the reason you turned on the coup was because you had your own plans.”

“...this is insane. What kind of lunatics would worship such a bloodthirsty death god?” Ramla hissed, beyond horror.

“My father and grandfather did. All our people did.” Jambres said without hesitation. “When the Hebrews grew numerous, our people responded by throwing all their firstborn sons to the river. When that Pharaoh gave the order, my Grandfather was High Priest, and he led the people in worship of our God-King the very next day. We put up mosaics praising ‘the Goshen Campaign’. The Hebrews hauled the stone we used to commemorate the massacre.”

Ramla burst into tears, collapsing back against the wall, sliding down to the floor in a heap.

Jambres kept walking, without thought, his legs taking him to his Temple Shrine by habit. The Priest didn’t even know he was moving until he arrived.

Satau joined him soon after. “You’re not going to warn him, are you?” He said, hushed. “You’re not going to warn Khnem?”

Jambres didn’t look up. “What would a warning do?”

“You could send him to Goshen right now.”

“You think that Pharaoh wouldn’t notice? You think Jannes wouldn’t notice?” Jambres scorned. “With our… plans foiled, Jannes and I are far from allies. In truth, I think the only reason neither of us turned the other in was a certainty that we’d never get away with it ourselves.”

“Call me crazy, but I would hope that Khnem’s life was worth more to you than such games.”

“Your brother’s life is worth more to me than all of Egypt combined.” Jambres said seriously. “But if I try to save him… Then either Moses’ threat will come true, and it will be immediately apparent that my firstborn survived… or it won’t happen, and Khnem will know I was expecting it. He’ll work out how those magic tricks were done. For certain he won’t believe in our gods ever again.”

“Our gods, or in you?” Satau scorned.

Jambres spoke over him. “Either way, Pharaoh will find out. Do you think that spares his life? Pharaoh’s reprisals against our people are still going. Anyone who so much as asks a Hebrew for advice, or warning about what comes next is arrested. If Goshen has some way to spare their own, and any of our people try it… Their lives are forfeit by dawn.”

“So what do you plan to do?!” Satau demanded.

Long, deathly silence.

“Pray.” Jambres admitted weakly. “It’s the only thing left. I had lost my way, putting my faith in myself and my cunning, but it’s when we’re most in need that the gods matter. If the sun comes up tomorrow, and the firstborn are spared, then we’ll know that the mightiest of our-”

The sound of disgust that came from Satau was enough to cut him off. “You did your job too well, Priest.” He said with soft, gentle scorn. “The Pharaoh’s job is to be a fixed point in the universe. As certain as the gods, as constant as the Nile; as untouchable as the sun. Your words.” He sniffed back tears. “And all these things have been shattered, one by one.”

“But not the King.” He said softly. “His Dynasty stretches back further than the entire Hebrew race.” The Priest rubbed his eyes. “It's about legacy. The problem with being raised as the next Pharaoh, Satau. You always have to be greater than the one before. If our Pharaoh admits he was lesser than his own father… If the legacy he leaves his son is less than the one he had when he ascended the Throne…”

“It already is. Our economy is ruined, our people are beaten.” Satau said. “I was thinking about what you said, back when this whole thing began. About how the rituals and traditions that we’ve put in place will keep Egypt fixed and focused until the end of time. It’s proven to be an effective way to keep our people united, with the gods as our ‘fixed point’. But after nine plagues… It suddenly hit me that there’s a downside to strict adherence to tradition. We don't adapt. The Pharaoh isn't changing his mind because he can’t. He just doesn’t know how to think a different way; just like you cannot teach a fish to fly.”

“You are close to treason, boy.” The Priest warned. “Get out, before I decide you can no longer be trusted as an acolyte.”

Satau took a deep, shaking breath. “I’m not an acolyte anymore. Half your Priesthood has resigned, some have committed suicide. Attrition took plenty more, between hunger and illness; to say nothing of the most devout believers in our nation turning against the Temples. Not one of our gods could hold back Jehovah’s arm.” Satau declared, peeling away the ankhs, the necklaces; any other symbol of any Egyptian deity. “The God of our Slaves has His foot on the King’s throat, and Pharaoh alone doesn’t seem to know it.” His voice was low and mournful. “Years ago, our King gave the order to slay the newborn sons of all the Hebrews. It took a generation, but the curse has finally caught up with us.” He turned to go. “I’m going to Goshen… and I’m asking Jehovah to take me in as His servant. I plan to ask Khnem to join me.”

The knife came from nowhere, flashing from his father’s hand. It came close enough to ruffle his hair. It clattered off the marble wall, and Satau let out a yelp of shock, ducking and running for his life. His father yelled obscenities after him.

~/*\~~/*\~~/*\~

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