The Byzirion Clause

Chapter 1

Consigned to the Depths of the Sea

In the tapestry year of our Lord, one thousand and forty one, we unworthy servants of the most high assemble under the witness of heaven. We consign this infernal device down into the depths of the sea, that it may afflict the souls of men no more.

A merchant cog had carried monks of the Order of Saint Oberis out to sea. Loath to lose sight of the shore, the sailors dared go no further. It was the middle of the day, and menacing clouds blanketed the sky. The winds were brisk and they made the waves choppy. They smacked hard against the wooden hull.

Brother Marcus exclaimed, Brother Gastone, this sudden and contrary weather, it seems as though Hades itself grumbles against our work!

Let our enemy rave on. All the minions of perdition itself cannot stop us now. The monk looked to their escorting soldier, Noble Pavel?

Giving a nod, a stout soldier wearing cuir bouilli armor leaned down hard upon one end of a pole. Across the fulcrum post, the load dangling from the other end lifted off the deck. Pavel strained to swivel the load out over the water, Tell me Marcus, why such a large and heavy box to entomb but a small object? Could not you simply cast it out of your hand into the sea?

Brother Marcus smiled, The scriptures tell us that our Lord once commanded Peter to catch a fish. In its mouth, he found a tetradrachma coin with which to pay their taxes. A fish could swallow a ring just as easily as it could a coin. What horrible misfortune it would be if a fisherman were to unwittingly recovered this evil and return it to humanity.

Pavel redoubled his efforts, Your words give me chills, monk! I shall not hear complaints from my aching muscles over this labor! He held fast as the weighted box now hung out over the water.

Another monk was among them. This man was not calm and with quiet resolve like his brothers. He huddled and trembled violently with wide eyes. Brother Gastone stepped over and rested his hand upon his shoulder, Brother Sables, it is fitting that you be the one to sever the rope. He helped the man up and steadied him across the pitching deck. Upon reaching the pole, he handed him a seax.

The grieving man slumped. Because the rope coiled its way down the pole, he needn't reach out over the water to make the releasing cut. Yet, he still stared outward with tears welling up, Let me stand upon it and cut the rope from there. Let it drag me down into the depths with it! That is my just punishment.

Brother Marcus drew near, The forgiven are not taken down to the pit along with the evil. Your place is here with us.

Brother Sables slowly shook his head, I cannot bear the pain and the guilt of what I have done! What a terrible thing I did, wearing that ring!

Brother Gastone was direct, but not scolding, Then bear your pain as evidence of true penance. Be not the coward or the unfaithful by letting yourself die.

Encouraged, the tormented monk sawed at the rope with the seax. Eventually, the rope snapped under tension. Whipping around the pole, it was dragged down as the box plunged into the sea. Sables sank to his knees, May God have mercy upon my soul!

Brother Marcus went to the head boatsman and handed him coins, the other half of payment for service completed. Good man, our work is done here. Our hearts are grateful to you.

As the sailors set about their work, Pavel lashed down the pole. He then approached the monks for some discrete words. Brothers, we must not return by the way of townes. Men of power would sell their souls for that ring. If they discover what we have done on this day, they will stop at nothing to take revenge upon us.

Brother Marcus replied, That is why we came here to a foreign land, to this strange sea. None of us ever need return here again.

Brother Gastone nodded, We told the sailors that this was a burial at sea. He glanced upwards, May the Lord forgive us. May he permit our craftiness to be the merciful deception.

The monks, men learned in the art of chant, sang praises as the cog sailed into obscurity. None of them had any inkling that someday men would explore the bottom of the sea.

Chapter 2

Byzirion Unleashed

In the tapestry of human history, the year was now AD 2020. An evil prince of the power of the air took a knee before his ruler. "You have restrained me, Master! Why? Allow me to herald your wrath upon the planet! It is not our way to pass by even the smallest opportunity for attack!"

Eyes of utter lifelessness gazed in sadistic joy at the vengeance that knelt before him. Essence aflame with hatred, he reached down to touch his face with macabre tenderness. His voice was tranquilly cold, My precious Byzirion. You are among the most powerful of my remaining servants. Until the coming day when your brothers are unchained from Gehenna, you are among the few remaining whom our Enemy has permitted to bend reality! My beloved Byzirion, I have watched you shatter empires and plunge them into darkness!

The prince fiercely petitioned with every fiber of his being, Then let me do so again, Master!

Yes, it is time. But, we must act carefully. You were thwarted by the Enemy, rendered useless for a millennium! Your ring is now once again in the hands of men, but I have restrained you. As powerful as you are, our Enemy has still bound you to abide by the conditions of our agreement. I will not again risk your becoming trapped during attacks upon the insignificant.

"Master! Tell me that you have found a worthy target!"

Rumbling, evil laughter shook the horizons, I have! With a gesture of his hand, he conjured a view. This is my target. Once he falls, a billion more will perish! He must be destroyed, but I am unable to attack him directly. We must come at him through a meticulously forged chain of victims. He changed the conjured display. This woman is the first one whom you must bring to ruin. Go.

With the scream of an entity unleashed after a thousand years of helplessness, Byzirion hurled down to the planet as a bolt of lightning.

Chapter 3

A Simple Priest

Today was a special day for St. Teresa's Church. Not only did it mark the beginning of Lent, but today was also when plans for the new parish hall were to be finalized. The architectural firm was impatient to move forward. Permits and paperwork had all been filed. All that was needed was the final nod from the rector.

St. Teresa's priest was known by all as 'Father Paddy'. A man of slight stature, he stood all of five foot, four inches… when he stood tall. Born and raised in Ireland, his accent was a smooth, even melodic brogue. At sixty-one years of age, his short hair was now well grayed. No age, however, could dim the youthful gleam in his blue eyes. He was usually seen wearing simple, plain clerical garb. Paddy's permanent jewelry was understated. Around his neck, he wore a delicate chain and cross, usually dark in color. On his hand, he wore a small ring signifying membership in the monastic Order of Saint Oberis. Occasionally, however, he could be seen wearing jewelry improvised in Sunday school. It could vary from day glow pipe cleaner bracelets to sparkly paper flowers taped to his lapel.

Father Paddy's junior partner in heavenly affairs was Sister Marla. She was an American nun in her late twenties. At least, that's what Paddy guessed, for he dared not ask. This model of fastidiousness had lived much of her life within the boundaries of holy ground. Her sheltered service left her slightly vulnerable to being shocked by ungracious encounters with the secular world. A 'darn' spoken in her presence would be just cause for deep concern. She did exhibit signs of boldness and daring however. The heels of her shoes were elevated by at least a half inch! No one ever saw Sister Marla in the sanctuary dressed in anything other than at least casual 'penguin' attire. With that being said, let it be known. Woe unto thee who uses the p-word in her presence!

Two more opposite personalities, you wouldn't likely find. Although well versed in clerical formalities, Father Paddy was the practical, improvisational type. He had weathered the cruelest storms in life, both his own and others'. Formalities were nice… if there was time for them. Sister Marla, however, was decidedly different. Rules, order and punctuality held the universe together. Besides heading up women's ministry, this busy bee handled the burdens of administrative minutiae. Together, this contrast made for a remarkably effective team. People often asked Father Paddy how such different people could work together to accomplish so much. He explained that it was like vinegar and oil in a good salad dressing. They don't mix together, but they do. His more honest opinion was that it was more often baking soda than oil in the mix.

Father Paddy's baking soda assistant summoned him for the architect meeting. Actually, Sister Marla wouldn't presume to 'summon' anyone higher in authority. She would instead stand there with a smile, gently tapping a finger at the crystal of her wristwatch. Father Paddy was in charge. He was perfectly free to continue his busy tasks. That was okay. Sister Marla would patiently wait with her serene smile… tapping her watch.

Inescapably disturbed, Father Paddy abandoned his busyness and accompanied her to his parish office. He couldn't figure out how she did it. The nun had refined an eerily smooth walk that gave the appearance of gliding across the floor. The unsettling part was the silence of it. Paddy surmised that it must be her great challenge and joy in life to sneak up on people undetected. Never was this more annoying than when he attempted to stealth away to enjoy a pipe. No sooner would he strike a match and begin lighting up his tobacco would the woman suddenly appear from nowhere. As sure and reliable as Aladdin's lamp was Father Paddy's pipe. His aggressively faithful helper graciously interceded for his health and deliverance from harmful addiction. There was no need for her to become upset at him. This was simply a case of water smoothing away the rock, the water being determined to win.

Were our good architects able to come up with some old fashioned paper blueprints?

They were, Father.

He sighed, I don't wish to be the old fuddy-duddy, but I do better with tables and charts than I do with these newfangled computer programs.

She gracefully gestured for him to enter the room first, I'm sure that they understand, Father.

Paddy greeted his two visitors with a brisk, firm handshake, Ah, gentlemen! I'm so glad to see you again! He noticed the large, freshly printed blueprints spread across his desk and table, Goodness! Look at what we have here! He pulled reading glasses from their reserved pocket case. Putting them on, he leaned down over the diagrams. I've quite an interest in construction. It's been me' privilege to oversee a number of building projects on the mission field!

The two architects exchanged a glance with hint of amused smiles. They envisioned mud huts in third world wildernesses. They pitied the quaint little man who they concluded must be ignorant of complex building codes, wireless technology, and solar innovations. Sister Marla, a keen read of facial expression and body language, read them all too well from her unobtrusive vantage point. Pride… she whispered inaudibly to herself.

One of the very nicely dressed 'guys with ties' needed to prevent his client from getting ideas about making changes. Well, we tried to keep these schematics down to the simple essentials, the large picture. That really wasn't true. The blueprints were cluttered with measurements and technical notations. All of these features are fully compliant with government regulations.

Father Paddy sighed and nodded, All this new technology, it's so amazing!

The lead architect gave a smile of modesty, Well, the miracles of modern technology…

The diminutive Irish priest exclaimed with raised brows, "It would have to be a miracle, with the storm drainage running uphill like that."

WHAT? The two men bolted to the desk and inspected it closely. One of them produced his computer tablet and hastily brought up digital schematics. It was obvious by the way that they looked back and forth, back and forth at the drawing that disbelief and astonishment prevailed.

Sister Marla bit her lip to keep herself from smiling. Not that anyone was watching her except for God. Now was the moment for graciousness and kindness to preserve the flustered men's dignity.

Father Paddy declared what the pair couldn't bring themselves to admit, Oh dear… perhaps not such a miracle, after all? He tapped his fingertip at the edge of the sheet, Maybe a downhill run to meet the city mains might be a better idea? It's a lot longer run, but I like the idea of having the good Lord's gravity work in our favor.

Now perspiring, the lead architect shook his head, I don't know how this could possibly happen!

Paddy could have suggested that someone was in so much of a hurry to throw together a design that he carelessly neglected to check ground elevations, but sufficient was the embarrassment of the moment. Perhaps you gentlemen would like some time to review these designs?

Sister Marla was not one to openly gloat. However, sometimes, gentle gestures of chiding are important to make learning opportunities more memorable. She glided to the table and leaned down to inspect the glaring design flaw. Hmh. She then proceeded to speedily roll up the blueprints and rubber band them. Her swift deftness was surprising. She cradled the paper rolls in her arms and then gave the men a polite smile letting them know that they were now able to depart.

Father Paddy kindly walked the visitors out the building and to their vehicle. He reassured them that he retained comfortable faith in their abilities. The two men stumbled and fumbled over apologies, excuses and assurances. As they drove off snipping at each other in the vehicle, Paddy waved to them and then folded his hands behind his back. He could feel concerned eyes staring hard at him, so he turned to the nun, It's a good design they've come up with.

Sister Marla would not be reassured by that. I believe that Proverbs praises the virtues of many counselors, Father Paddy?

He smiled, Hmh… You think we should hire an independent firm for a second opinion?

I do.

Paddy took a deep, restful breath and nodded, I'll leave that to you.

Now in hawk mode, Sister Marla returned a grateful nod and immediately set off to begin researching firms.

Chapter 4

More Who Serve

The cadence of life at St. Teresa's involved smooth routine. Sister Marla lavished meticulous attention upon special rose bushes gifted to the church all the way from Europe. The annual show and competition would soon be upon them. The nun carefully nurtured blooms of the special variety of Rosaceae called Lune d'Automne.

Inside the sanctuary, a very short and plump Latino woman patiently and with great enjoyment sat doing needlework. Almost a permanent fixture at the church, she applied her extraordinary fiber art skills to an ongoing tapestry. A woman with the mighty name Alejandra, she always lifted Padre Paddy's spirits with her warm smile and encouraging words. Her Spanish accent was quite heavy, but for some reason the Irishman never had a problem understanding her. Although he perhaps didn't consciously realize it, he also felt a sense of relief that there was somebody in this world of whom he was taller.

Today, Father Paddy began training a new acolyte named Douglas. He was a young fellow with horn rim glasses who people worried wasn't yet big enough to carry the heavy crucifix during service. Unfortunately, in this day and age in America, not a great number of boys were volunteering to serve as acolytes. And, as long as the lad was willing to try, Father Paddy would have the patience. He would need it, too. Now, after the choir finishes singing enunciation, we will enter the side here and take position in the center aisle. He led the boy in slow procession. Rehearsals might seem simple and even trivial in necessity. Today, however, validated their importance. The boy's robes were a bit long, long enough for him to step on the hem. Stumbling forward, the top of the heavy crucifix crashed into the low choir loft overhead.

As the echo carried around the empty sanctuary, Alejandra smiled and whispered to herself, y otra vez.

The quick moving priest caught the tipping crucifix and steadied the boy. Seeing the youngster becoming upset, he knelt down and pointed upward. Look closely at the loft. You see all the nicks and gouges? He patted Douglas on the shoulder, You're not the first one to wake up the choir with a good wham, and you won't be the last. You're doin' fine, lad! Let's try it again.

Things settled down as the service walk-through progressed. Near the end, the priest spotted a woman sitting in the back pew. Upon making eye contact, she broke into a big smile and waved. Paddy gave a nod, Well, I'll be! He turned to his pupil, That was a good first day, young man. We'll practice again next week? Upon receiving a nod, he leaned closer, You know, I bet if you ask Sister Marla, she might have a special treat in the parish kitchen! The boy took off like a shot down the center aisle. After you put your robes back! The boy made a right angle turn toward the side exit.

The beaming girl stood to meet him in the aisle. Father!

Paddy shook his head with a smile, Well look what the wind blew in! He then stopped to study her, Have we met?

She growled, "Oh, you! Give me a hug! She wrapped around in an unabashed embrace and then settled back. It's been too long."

It has indeed, Gina. But I do understand the demands of being away at school. You should be just about done with your graduate work, shouldn't you?

She gestured for him to come sit with her in the back pew. Thanks to some valuable advice I got a couple years ago, yes! The university played the 'you need more courses to graduate' stunt.

And you showed them the paper signed by the dean precisely defining your degree courses?

Gina closed her eyes with raised brows, I did, and they were not happy at all! She settled, Two years ago I felt guilty pressing the dean's office for that document. Now I couldn't be happier that I did.

He nodded, then tipped his head, So what's this strange thing you've stumbled across? You sounded so excited in your emails!

Oh Father Paddy! It's incredible. Our archaeology team finished up searching ancient shipwrecks. Our vessel was on its way back when one of the scientists felt a strange desire to poke around a spot on the deep sea floor. We scanned and detected what had to be a man made object.

A newly discovered shipwreck?

Her eyes lit up, No! That's the strange thing! No ship wreckage at all! We submerged the Batho-Loach and had it vacuum away sediment. She pulled a laptop from her backpack and powered it up. This is what we lifted to the surface. Depth and deterioration put the date estimate at a thousand years.

Some… kind of remains of a reinforced box?

She nodded, displaying close ups. Look at that symbol. You can barely make it out.

"Why bless me!"

Gina took hold of his hand to examine his ring. I always remember your ring from growing up in the church. Whatever that was, it has the seal of the Order of Saint Oberis! Father, do you have any idea what this might mean?

He shook his head with raised brows, I haven't a clue, but I'm deeply curious! Have you opened it?

Well, physically no.

Physically? Well how else does one open a container?

There might be something fragile inside, so we brought it back to be X-rayed. That's a lot safer than digging through the sediment. She squirmed a bit, Officially, we begin the scans tomorrow.

Officially…

Gina couldn't contain her excitement, Okay. I have a confession to make. I cheated. After lights-out yesterday, I warmed up the machine and stole a scan.

Paddy couldn't help but smile, And?

She sighed, Well, believe it or not… ordinary rocks! It was a box full of rocks, presumably to sink it into the ocean. And… She smiled, One ring.

"A ring? That's it?"

It must be gold because it's not corroded out.

I tried to zoom in on it, but my equipment couldn't discern any details on the ring. It looks very plain, but we'll know better when we extract it tomorrow. Father, since the box has the seal of Saint Oberis, do you think you could connect me with your monastery to see if there are any ancient records about it?

Oh, certainly! Why, I'll fire off an email this very hour. I'm sure that someone will see it during early maidin prayers, at the latest. He leaned close to playfully 'confide', You can always tell which ones are praying and which ones are texting. It's the laughter, gives 'em away every time.

Gina returned a gleeful smile. Thank you, Father. This'll be a feather in my cap if I can get the answers before anyone else does. She tipped her head in thought, There'll have to be an inquiry about archaeological ownership. Deep sea finds are pretty hotly contested, these days. She shrugged, Personally, I believe in finders-keepers, but politicians prevail in this day and age.

He stood with her to see her off, I'm eager to find out what this mystery reveals!

She nodded with a smile, I'm just excited to be a part of it!

He walked out with her, You drive carefully, now. And by the way, there's plenty of pew space, you know, if you'd like to grace us with your presence in fellowship again.

She chuckled with a bright smile, I consider myself properly chided, Father.

After Gina finally got her cantankerous car started and was on her way, Paddy made his way back to his office in deep thought. Who would go to so much effort to sink a little ring out in the middle of the sea? Does no' make any sense!

He sent his query email and then powered down his computer. With the time zone difference, there might not be anyone awake at that late hour. There was one night owl who did catch the message. After making inquiries, he quickly responded. That communication, which would be accompanied by urgent phone messages, carried a desperate warning, Faithful Brother! Lest catastrophe be unleashed upon all humanity, at all costs, nobody must wear that hellish ring! Do whatever you can to prevent such from happening. We are coming with all haste to intervene.

Chapter 5

The Seduction

Gina was tired after the drive back to her college town. Common sense told her to turn in early, for tomorrow was going to be a big day. Still, a driving curiosity compelled her to drop by the 'Arc Lab' after hours. The closest that a student could park without being towed by the university parking mafia was in a metered area. She dipped into her bag of laundromat quarters to feed the hungry meter. It maxed out at forty-five minutes, well short of a normal class period.

The Archaeology Department currently occupied the basement of the former student union. A structure of heavy stonework, its steps were smoothly worn down by millions of footsteps over the decades. As she unlocked the outer side doors with her heavy brass keys, Gina spotted a small group of students in the distance. They surreptitiously descended into an obscure service entrance into the ground. Intrepid guys and girlfriends were now off to spelunk the network of steam tunnels beneath the university. Plenty of adventure was to be had, evading campus cops who responded to carelessly tripped alarm points. Gina smiled, suddenly feeling a bit old.

The building was deathly quiet. Janitorial service wouldn't show up for a couple more hours. Footsteps, doors opening and closing, all of her sounds echoed loudly down the hallways. Gina gave her ritual look towards a snack vending machine in passing. As usual, she descended all the way down the flights of stairs, then came back up again. Glancing over the selection of chips and cookies, her eyes settled upon the dilemma. Oatmeal raisin or frosted gingerbread? A long minute or two passed as she stood in a predatory stare. Chewy, they were soft and chewy. At last, her desire to make the healthier choice prevailed. She poked in the quarters and pressed the keys for the oatmeal cookie. Then, breaking into the wrapper as she redescended the stairs, she renewed her habitually unkept vow to buy cheaper bulk boxes at the supermarket.

The basement was creepy at night. As part of university energy conservation policy, most of the fluorescent roof lighting was turned off. The glow of emergency exit signs cast long shadows. Outside the entrance to Arc Lab, a twinge of fear made her stop and look down at her right leg. Her capri pants stopped at her calves, leaving her delicate, wrought iron anklet well exposed. She considered pulling it off and dropping it into her purse, but the darkness and silence beyond the lab door clearly indicated that no professors were present. Iron bracelets, anklets, or earrings constituted a private venting of frustrations among graduate students. They taught the professors' classes. They carried out the research experiments. They compiled and analyzed the data readings. Yet, when new research was formally published to the world, grad student names were all too often omitted from the credits. The iron trinkets secretively symbolized their sense of academic slavery.

Inside the lab, Gina's wariness of being alone at night prompted her to lock the door. After that, all her scattered thoughts vanished. A shallow, water-filled tank took up the center of the room. A smile melted across her face as she approached the carefully preserved remains and sediment. What are you, little ring?

A quiet, low male voice gently echoed around her, A wondrous and miraculous gift.

Gina gasped with horror. Her face contorted with terror and her heart jolted into panicked rate. Light began filling the room. There was a man, a huge looming figure. She couldn't fathom how she could have missed noticing him there. Hands shaking violently, she dug into her purse for a pepper spray canister. Oh God, no! Please! Don't let this happen to me!

As the glow intensified in the room, her visitor slowly shook his head, Your reaction is understandable in this circumstance, but you needn't fear.

Since he wasn't moving closer, Gina grabbed her cell phone. Just before she hit her panic speed-dial, however, the man vanished right before her eyes. With jaw dropped, she stood frozen in sheer disbelief.

Amidst a swirl of glinting light, the man slowly rematerialized in a different corner of the room, Does this help?

Her phone slipped out of her hand. It tumbled down her body, bounced off her