/CAMERON AND CHLOE/ BAHIRA AND ENOCH RESPOND - Children of the Tribulation's international blog!

This week's mail bag is a little shorter than usual! As you know, Cameron has put his reporter hat back on and is now in Eritrea, investigating what it wouldn't be amiss to call a TOL civil war. We are only a few years away from the end of the Millennium, and as it is written, the armies of Gog and Magog are reforming - with Chloe and her husband on their trail. So, I, Bahira Ababneh, will take a break from my usual blog and am going to be answering letters with my good friend Enoch Dumas, former chaplain of The Place during the Tribulation and now a guest with our senior ministry after a long missionary career.

Here at COT main campus, our prayers go towards the civilian refugees, and all those who have opened their homes to refugees from the Ethiopian and Western Russian territories, with a special thought for those undecided in Osaze who have shared their dwelling with Christian families from the east: may their willingness to open the door to our brothers and sister keep it open when redemption and repentance knocks.

Onto the letters!

"How long until the Millennium ends?"
"Surely the Last Day must be approaching... when do you think it will be?"
"My best friend is undecided. What can I tell him so that he understand that the hour is near?"

I can't count the amount of questions like this that we've received. Understandably so; it's the ninetieth year of the ninth century, after all. Much as before the Rapture, only the Lord knows the day and hour - some think that the 1000 years are to be counted from te Rapture, others from the Desecration, and others from the Glorious Appearing. Even then, there is disagreement about whether or not to count the 75 days of preparation. If you have prayed sincerely, you will have found that the Lord is not telling us; we are assured that it will be a matter of years, but it could be one, or three, or seven. -Bahira

+993? +997? +999? +1000? We don't know... and I wouldn't recommend putting out a fleece. Does it matter, compared to eternity? -Enoch

"My father has severely injured his hand in a woodchipper accident. He won't make the trip to Osaze for a replacement, even though I took a second job to afford both trip and implant, he won't accept my gift. What can I tell him?"

Contrary to a common misconception, the Temple Tribunal never said that using cybernetics or allografts is treif. I understand not wanting to support unbelievers economically, but you don't have to anymore! There's an orthotic center in Dallas that is quite competitive compared to made-in-Osaze prosthetics. -Bahira

Perhaps the Lord wishes to teach both of you a lesson in family unity as you assist your father in these last few years. -Enoch

"My daughter is very precocious, and has taken an interested in entomology. Recently she's all about fireflies. Is there any safe place where they can still be found?"

For a long time, we thought that fireflies and other exclusively nocturnal animals that could not transition to continual daylight had gone extinct. But the Lord had a plan! Fireflies have been found again in the Eastern Europan territory, in the settlement known as Night City. I would of course never suggest to anyone that they take their young children there - the place's reputation is justified, and a reminder for us that sinners prefer the darkness. However, you can safely take your daughter to Carlsbad Caverns! The greater portion of the cavern complex is still intact, and the curators of the place have worked out a wildlife reintroduction deal. -Bahira

I admire your dedication to your daughter's love of learning and life, but remember, the fear of God is the beginning of knowledge. -Enoch

"I live in western Heartland, near the Pacifican border. Should me and my friends go to the Christian burger joint, or to the best burger joint?"

With the introduction of vat-grown meat derived from soybean DNA, this has been a question that I've read a number of times in various shapes. It's true that the technology has been open sourced, but it's also undeniable that the early adopters in Pacifica have an advantage in culturing methods, supply chain, and most of the times, taste. If you or any of your friends aren't otherwise busy, why not help make the Christian burger joint the best burger joint? I can see a couple of ways to go about it (constructively, that is). -Bahira

God is ultimately the Author of all things. You are not in a position where you have to take what you can get when it comes to food, so... What would give Him greater glory? -Enoch

"What's the point in signing up for an apprenticeship? We've only got a few years left."

I've got to admit that you have a point here, but... even "a few years" can be a long time to be idle in. Have you considered a short-term mission trip instead? The main mission fields of today - Osaze (be sure to say Misrayim if you go!), Pacifica, Nova Roma - are fascinating places to visit and may inspire you to take up a career while you do the Lord's work. Even in a few years, who knows what you might create or accomplish! -Bahira

Work well done can be its own reward; if you've only got ten minutes to do the right thing in, you should do the right thing for ten minutes. Redeem the time! -Enoch

"What happened to the Millennium Force? Are you still inducting applicants?"

We're still here! It's been some time since our last big caper made the news - you may have seen the Bibleman episode inspired by it - but the simple truth is that Millennium Force detachments have been all over Eastern Africa providing aid and counsel to those being displaced by the TOL civil war. Our people are working with other relief organizations to make sure that as few civilians as possible are affected by the fighting! You haven't heard much about it simply because the work is still ongoing - but I have an inkling that Mr. Williams will have something to report about us soon. As you know, after my run-in with the entity calling itself Damien, I'm retired from field duty and have been helping Chloe run things here. We're definitely looking for all the help we can get in Russia and Ethiopia, so apply! -Bahira

They are still working to comfort the afflicted; there has been no need to afflict the comfortable, which is what tends to make the
news. -Enoch

"I just found out that I am very distantly related to you (See attachment: ). I work with ISF. I was killed in a firefight while delivering desalinated water. I'd like to talk."

Bahira removed the letter from the queue and saved the document without it, then checked the genealogy tree to see if it matched Chloe's - this was normally her column, but not much sense in wasting her time if it was some sort of prank - and found that it did match. She forwarded it, then thanked Enoch and wrapped up the blog post.

"Yuell Williams?" Chloe asked. The restaurant was only a half day's travel from the front, but it might as well have been on another planet: here the air was clear and the birds sang in the eternal sunlight. Small electric cars made their way in the cobblestone street alongsides pedestrian, bikes, and folks on horseback.

Answering the call was a tall, bald man with chapped lips and bright blue eyes, wearing a simple tunic even in the relatively cold climate of northern Europe. He was unnaturally pale, and under the tunic were visible stitching and tubing. He extended his remaining hand to Chloe, who did her best to shake left hands graciously. "That's me. I am your great-eighteen-grandson. It's good to see you."

Chloe sat down in front of the revenant, a quick glance telling her that the explosion had also taken his right leg - he had some sort of locally built peg leg to stand up with. He nodded gravely. "It doesn't hurt. It'll get fixed soon."

"What happened?"

"There are always jackals in war. Our convoy was attacked by raiders. They just wanted the desalinator to sell on the black market, everything else was expendable. The water tanker was hit two anti-tank lances, and the water only spilled out fast enough to protect some of me from the second explosion. Still have one of all vital organs. Can't say I died heroically, I was just in the wrong spot."

"I'm... I'm sorry. You were trying to do the right thing."

"Ingenieurs Sans Frontiers will cover repairs. Cybernetics or allografts, my choice. I remained because they needed first-hand info on the attack in order to put a trace on this raider gang. I rotate out tomorrow. How are you and Cameron?"

"He's still in Ethiopia, covering the conflict there. I'm here... well, trying to lend a hand, I hope, I already talked to your boss. Gog and Magog. Again. Bahira sent me your letter, so..."

"You are skilled in logistics. Your assistance will be precious."

Chloe noticed that the man was trying to not speak in a monotone, like one might when they are bored but don't want a friend to notice.

"I'm... going to do my best. Don't worry. It's going to be over soon and we're going to make sure that any idiots who want to have a war will do so without any more collateral damage. Uhm... Why did you want to see me? Is there anything special that you want to see done? If you had made any promises to anyone I'll be happy to fulfill them for you." Chloe's Glorified memory sent her back to the Tribulation, when she was running the Co-Op trying to make sure ever-dwindling resources would go where they were needed most. This conflict was much smaller in scale, of course, but she was very well aware of the web of promises and threats that relief workers often had to navigate in a war zone; she'd had to effectively build one herself from scratch, once.

"No. I wanted to talk to you because you and Cameron are the only extant relatives of mine who has experienced death. We are encouraged to do so as a way to help us cope. You were in the territory."

A body, mind and soul precariously held above Hell itself by gossamer strands of neurowire and synthetic muscle, Chloe thought. Not only that; an industrial process to do so en masse. And an ancillary industry of classes on how to cope, smart drugs to dull the sheer starkness of realizing that you are dead and walking, support groups... Chloe had picked up a Tree Of Light pamphlet. "Handbook for the Recently Deceased", it said, and came with a memory card containing a late-1980s dark comedy film. Naturally, a suggestion was to reach out to any relatives or friends who might have gone through the same ordeal. And so, Yuell Williams had followed instructions.

Lord, what can I tell this man? Chloe felt the presence of the grieving Lord with her and believed He gave her utterance. All she could do was present the unvarnished truth: that Yuell had seemed a wonderful person and had accomplished many good deeds. "But the sad fact is that either you never saw her personal need for a Savior, or you chose to ignore that need. You may think this is hardly the time and place for a message like this, but -"

Yuell looked on impassively; Chloe had not missed the simple fact that every time so far that he'd blinked, just before the facial movement a green LED had come on from one of the grafts under his tunic. She caught herself. Why a sermon? Sure, others - Chloe quickly scanned the restaurant and caught a half dozen young patrons surreptitiously looking on - might listen. But she wasn't here for them, not today, not right now.

"I have no enmity against Yahweh or Jesus. We could live in peace together, on Earth for billions of years, and in the Universe for trillions. I simply did not want to work for anything or anybody who would not want my input on how things are done. Unlike TOL or the Temple, ISF is run as a democracy."

Chloe found herself crying. It hadn't happened in a long time. Could Yuell cry? His eyes worked, that she could tell, but... could he really cry rather than just lubricate them? With some effort, she pushed aside the part of her mind that encouraged her to continue with her earlier train of thought, that other may be spared eternal punishment.

"I'm sorry. I'm so, so sorry." Chloe understood how, before the Rapture, atheist parents might have felt at a funeral. The thought that that was it, there was nothing else, they wouldn't see their child again. Yuell was right in front of her, most of him was anyway, but even so - the Last Battle would come in only a few short years, and there was nowhere to go for him than Hell. She knew this with finality. What to tell him?

"I want you to tell me about your death. It might help me cope with mine."

Were these revenants, these MEC soldiers, Satan's mockery of the Glorified? No, Chloe reminded herself instantly, Satan was bound and powerless. This was all humanity's determination, even in the face of hellfire. "Throw your soldiers into positions whence there is no escape, and they will prefer death to flight. If they will face death, there is nothing they may not achieve."

"Sun Tzu. The Art of War. Still relevant after thirty-five centuries."

Chloe hadn't meant to say that aloud... or had she? If they faced a fate worse than death, what could the soldiers achieve? "I was martyred for running a relief operation, albeit an illegal one... so you're right. Before my death, an Angel came to soothe and reassure me. I was guillotined - it only hurt for a few moments, and I remember falling free for a second, bodiless. After that..."

Yuell nodded. Chloe felt like she was talking to a tape recorder for a moment - that made it easier. She focused on the MEC's eyes, noting with some relief that they still displayed the slight wandering that human eyes perform naturally.

Chloe found it hard to describe in mere words the experience of meeting Jesus, receiving her crown of martyrdom and then depositing it at His feet. The Feast of the Bridegroom, Christ's marriage to the Church, came easier. She was able to describe the very portals of the house of God, a great, cathedral-like expanse where the redeemed of the ages were arrayed in purest white, comprising all those born again between Pentecost and the Rapture, marshaling expectantly in a staging area. "God Himself officiated the ceremony and welcomed all present to the marriage of the Lamb. As Jesus appeared, bright and shining as the sun, the Father intoned, 'Christ loved the church and gave Himself for her..." Chloe's eyes glazed over gently as she remembered the sheer contentment that suffused the few memories of Heaven she had, and the anticipation of an eternity of them. She caught herself when Yuell answered.

"I was dead for six seconds. I remember the pain associated with third-degree burns, only it would not stop after the nerve endings should have been incinerated. Then it stopped. I realized it was the metabolic extension controller kicking in. I did not experience being almost cut in half. The system flooded me with anesthetic, and I woke up in the field hospital. Standard procedure for milspec MEC operation."

"Why did you have a military metabolic extender?"

"ISF personnel operating in dangerous areas is issued a Mk10-A metabolic extension controller, if available. We would not be having this conversation otherwise. I don't think that your experience is relevant to mine, but thank you for indulging my curiosity. Will you tell me more about Heaven?"

Yuell blinked slowly, without the cybernetics having induced the reflex, and attempted a smile. It looked fake. Chloe could tell that it wasn't. Why was her relative - 18 generations removed, maybe, but still - torturing himself with stories of a happiness he would never get to experience?

Chloe took a bite of a cinnamon roll that was on the table when she came in, to give herself a moment to think, then figured it out and stopped mid-chew. Yuell was trying to feel something. Rage, envy, despair - it didn't even matter what. Something. Anything.

Chloe continued: "As Jesus stretched His arms to encompass the mighty throng that constituted His bride, God said, 'The Bridegroom loved you with an everlasting love, though you were unworthy and rebellious and disobedient. He redeemed you by leaving His home, only to be rejected by His own, and laying down His life for you. He returned here to prepare a place for you, that where He is, you may be also. And He left His Spirit to teach and protect you and to prepare you for-"

Yuell interrupted. "Being called unworthy at your own wedding is not okay. We - We have a shelter system in place for- for spousal abuse. All- all are welcome. Do- do you need help?"

Chloe noticed that Yuell's remaining hand had gripped the old-style pewter mug tight enough to warp it. His nose twitched. His eyes had narrowed, almost imperceptibly.

Yuell has no right to be angry at He who loves all of us unconditionally, Chloe immediately thought. She followed it up with, But he is angry. And he knows it.

"I... Thank you, Yuell. It's... not like that, and I know rescuers hear that sometimes, but I mean it. It was a long time ago, anyway. Thank you for caring." Chloe gave the MEC her most maternal of smiles.

Yuell's smile still looked forced. Thanks to her Glorified eye for detail, Chloe still reckoned that it wasn't. "Thank you, Chloe. My plans have changed."

"Oh? Can I know them?" Chloe finished her cinnamon roll and noticed with some relief that Yuell also had taken a bite of his. Could revenants still taste? Would they be able to tell flavors, but not care one way or the other?

"Old plan: Rotate home, undergo repairs, formally break up with Rosie due to my condition, return to duty. New plan: Return home, be healed, propose to Rosie, see if she wants a roadie."

"That's... That's brave of you. Rosie's a singer?"

"Real name, Brigitte Stark."

"Oh! She came to COT a couple years back! Of course I remember her, she did the Charity Churchmouse skit for the kids and was a guest in the adult choir!"

"Correct."

But she's a Christian, Chloe thought. Of course, she couldn't be one hundred percent sure, due to Mrs. Stark's young age, but she did see a couple of altar call answers after that choir performance. How would they make it work? In the territories with a Christian government, still the majority of Earth, Yuell was legally dead. Would they get married in Pacifica?

Yuell could read the perplexity on Chloe's face. "Even if she rejects me, I will have tried. There is much life to live. Thank you for reminding me of that, great-18-grandma."

The rest of the brief conversation was a blur. Chloe spent most of it trying, and failing, to figure out how incited anger had such a positive effect on this man. They said their goodbyes, and promised to write. They parted with a hug, and even though Chloe instinctively found the strange shapes she felt under the tunic, and the missing arm, unsettling, she genuinely treasured the moment.

The situation in the Urals region was improving - most of those who had not chosen to fight had been evacuated. It looked like The Only Light would after all gain control of Gog and Magog, but they would be doing so with remarkably little blood spilled. Despite her Glorified body, Chloe was tired; getting ISF and the Millennium Force to work together hadn't been easy, but it had improved the situation considerably. Time for her evening routine: check email, shower, evening prayers, sleep. Soon, maybe in a few days, she would be able to return to Greater Jerusalem and catch up with Cameron.

She was surprised to find a message from Yuell, consisting of a scan of an analog photo. Him, with a ridiculous spray tan and combover, looking like a grumpy tomcat behind a smiling Rosie, on the bow of a small sailboat. For modesty, or maybe to hide his stitchwork - the new arm and leg looked pretty natural, Chloe had to admit - the couple was dressed in what looked like 1920s swimwear. They were wearing wedding rings.

The other scan was a marquee for Rosie's new single, "A Love Passed On". The last tour date was on Tranquility Base.

The accompanying text from Yuell was brief. "A good roadie knows his whole job is to make someone else look good, keep someone else safe, help someone else do what they were put here to do. A good roadie stays out of the spotlight. Once in a while he might step on stage just to fix a problem, to set something right. But when he's done things right, people won't be sure he's done anything at all."

Author's note: The idea for the second part of this snippet came from autumnrose2010. The chronicle of The Omega Legacy and of the last 100 years of the Millennium can be found by Googling "Left Beyond Quest" and clicking on the Archive link that should show up in first position. It is an interesting piece of fiction written cooperatively over the course of about a year. You can also use the redirect URL at
http：／／www．f3．to／omega／