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A01.77 Starting the Investigation (2,368) Ikart D1

Source manuscripts: pestaner.com/sm01 pestaner.com/smp1 – SM01 P1.docx

Content advisory: Adult language, content, and situations, controversial religious and cultural references, speculative histories, substance use, acts of violence, and self-harm. Find more information about the novel at SHATTERED MIRRORS NOTES.

Introduction to Story [H1.5]

Universe #169 is an achievement of a unified group of gods called the Council of Ancients. Their motto is “We are One.” Jehovah, a leader of the Council of Ancients, has prepared a presentation announcing that he needs to have a redo of this creation because “evil” has crept into the design. He has secretly directed his archangels to collect the power necessary to destroy and reassemble all of the Universe.

Ikart, an investigator in Jehovah’s service, is unaware of these plans and expects to make a routine report to the Council about the State of the Universe upon his return from vacation. Unbeknownst to the investigator, a ten-day timer has started.  This marks day 1 of a countdown to Armageddon.

A Guardian Angel, Panea, and a young budding shaman, Tom, who is in the future, have learned of this plan and have attempted to notify Jehovah’s Chief Inspector, Guardian Angel Ikart.

Chapter 1  Starting The Missing Angel Investigation

Camille speaks
Narrator: Ikart
Location: Maui at a Nephilim resort
When: D1 TTD

Something didn’t feel right. I had been relaxing in a shallow tropical natatorium: slightly cool water, picturesque scenery, and a gentle northeasterly trade wind. By all accounts, my mind was mush. The cure for my malady, that which would return me to a refreshed angel of Jehovah, was exactly what I was experiencing. I was the perfect comfy within my therapy until I received this telepathic communique.

The fix was in for those fortunate few like me who found a location in the pool. I had been advised to stay clear of the fools who jockeyed for a position around the constructed stage. These spirit-filled, hot-blooded actors aspire to maximum rub, jettisoned as if an anti-kafkaesque pill was at play. This bizarre game was a frenzied prelude to breeding played under the pretense of waiting for the entertainment. Their hot, sweaty bodies respond enthusiastically to the tease, beginning with a tactile touch, requiring a temporary release of body space to check out the offending body, followed by a primal eye lock intended to encourage or discourage more touching and grabbing.

Unfortunately, my location was not as desolate as I would like. Some lurid tourists were playing grab ass in the pool: angels, nephilim, imps, and pixies understood the lay of the land and joined in. Despite my desire to be alone, I appreciated the pixies, who, contrary to popular belief, are fun drinking buddies. One positive remark about pixies is that they are more strategic, patient, and subtle than the angels regarding mating rituals. Angels, including myself, get quickly swept up in the moment. Since arriving, I have turned down two solicitations. There is no chance of loneliness at this resort.

My location provided convenient access to an enchanting waterfall and superlative eye candy. I came here for the perfect place and time to have fun and blow off steam, celebrating the conclusion of a long, difficult case. I reclined and tried not to think as I put up the ol’ dogs and sipped my complimentary cocktail.

Across the empty pool, two free-spirited nymphs kept my eyes occupied. Perhaps the hypnotizing rhythm of the music, my mesmerizing stare, or the chic magnet I straddled between my loins brought these women to me. I had no idea why I was propositioned by a man and two animals.

I had incredible apathy for logic at this moment. Whatever it was that attracted proposition, nothing could keep my usual calm, supercilious demeanor in check as it transitioned into nascent hot carnal desire. Even so, I had to rub my eyes as these silly, topless, redheaded vixens waded over, holding refreshed chi-chi cocktails, vying to be the first to dance with me. Carpe diem!

As I made clear, I was aghast when I felt that damn communication request. To be perfectly transparent, my first thought was to ignore the request. The mixed scents of cocoa butter, sweat, and hormones danced in my nostrils, and there were no better angels here to persuade me to reject this pleasure. How could I interfere with this rare moment? Don’t believe all the rubbish you hear about spirits. You may recall that even Jehovah rested. My celestial body wanted repose, but everything would not be quite aligned if I didn’t scratch the itch. For some unexplainable reason, I still struggled to resist the urge to respond to the request.

To stay the course, my mind returned to the pool waters, magically set white beaches and crashing waves in the background. The mesmerizing aqua-velvet blue waters brought a sense of tranquility. From such an innocent place came torment, as the notion of an intimate time in these waters toyed with my insecurities; I did not know how to swim. I still don’t swim. Perhaps this is not relevant. There was no denying that I was at a Maui resort, and I still felt the need to escape this delight.

I fondly recalled choosing these baby-blue swimming shorts sporting a yellow duck pattern. They sat low on my hips to not impede my wings from opening and add a complementary flair to my dashing red sunglasses. I was perfectly dressed for this place and time, excited to relax and be a stupid tourist for a week. I felt a momentary release from obligation until it returned.

My mind wandered to my luxurious room. I had just arrived at the hotel recommended by my friends hours before. I did not even unpack. My expectations for an evening of relaxation were high. Looking back, it was a dubious decision to bring along a brightly colored inflatable parrot to recline on in the water.

This is why I find vacations tumultuous at best. My thoughts were contradictory, if not ambiguous. I relished the excitement of partying with a young, boisterous crowd and simultaneously desired isolation. I am a glorious angel and wear ridiculous outfits. However, the contradictions dissipated as I sat upon my blow-up refuge among the loud tourists and spirits.

Within these moments that my thoughts raced, I answered the call.

I smiled, unable to speak. My weariness begged my eyes to succumb, yet I energetically rose to the occasion, quickly dismounting my ride. As I grabbed the right temple of my sunglasses, the feel of the grip brought to my consciousness an image of the hefty spliff I had in my pocket. Needless to say, it got soaked in my momentary lapse of judgment.

This is the precise moment I got a message from Camille, vacating the warm, fuzzy facade occupying my mind and giving me a momentary chill. The gravity of the moment was clear. As quickly as my furlough commenced, my feet touched the pool floor, and it ended. I bid farewell to those girls as they giggled feverishly at my creepy awkwardness.

The report conveyed the loss of an angel. I paused and reluctantly left my place of respite to return to my office in the Celestials. As I walked dejectedly to the Haven portal, ruminating upon my truncated holiday, I felt an odd tugging inside, as I told you at the onset of this report.

I reflected with sanguine reverence. I was at an event with many nephilim, and no one else responded to the report. That was more than curious. Certainly, Camille can communicate directly with one person, but that is rare. And this was an important message that really should have included every spirit, which is the norm. When I arrived at the Celestial gate, I was still wearing my swimsuit and shades. I expanded my wings and flew to my office conveniently outside the Celestial gate.

Before acting on Camille’s report, I wanted to grab a notebook I would use for my investigation and change my clothes. I did not require much else. However, this matter of a missing angel is a top priority and quite unsettling. I need to start it officially and be prepared with at least a business coat and tie if such an occasion requires it.

That is Ikart humor. I just changed into my detective cloak, not unlike my leisure cloak. Angels are low maintenance; we are beautiful all the time. After grabbing a pre-packed bag with more mugwort and a fresh notebook, I headed towards Archie’s ancillary offices nearby.

Heading to see the Archies
Narrator: Ikart
Location: Spirit realm
When: D1 TTD

There is not much happening in the Celestial business district except a lot of singing, praying, and good old-fashioned whoopin’ and hollerin’. Most of the fun activities are at the Colosseum gate, which has lots of shops and interesting sites to spend time in. Don’t get me wrong. The Celestials have beautiful gardens and promise one of the more fascinating places to noodle around.

Michael’s office is in the Celestial’s business district and offers a great getaway for his soldiers.  Regardless, I feel excited to be here. I always like receiving a new case, which is bad for the victim. And it is a lot of sinful pleasure to hurt the person who did evil. Yes, I am not too angel-like; I am bringing an entity of interest for justice. It is both the mental challenge and the hunt that gets my prana pumping. To quote the ol’ hymn, There is sunshine in my soul today.  I had pep in my step. I was happy to be present at the Archie’s office to declare my next case.

As I looked around, I saw several paths in front of me. To get to the Archie’s office, I follow the path towards Jannah and Eden. I come here to open or close a case, but I like the receptionist, Alice. I often fantasize about asking her out for coffee or playing ‘Hamster in the Halo.’ She often plays hard-to-get, so I know she feels for me also. I am lucky because the boys are out fighting, so I can have fun with the receptionist. I will be happy if she remembers me.

I arrived right on time. Since there is no time here, every time is the right time.

“Hello, Doll.  My name is Ikart. Do you remember me? I am an Investigative Angel Level Two in the service of Lord Jehovah. By the authority of the Council of Ancients, I am obligated to investigate and document any unusual activities that may affect the various agreements between the members of the Council.”

“By the Council’s authority, eh? I know who you are.  I am not Doll; I am not your girlfriend or BFF. My name is Archangel Alice, and you should address me properly by my proper name. So, let’s start by being professional. We have already been introduced, and you are supposed to know the rules.”

I nodded, trying to appear humble.

“Do you know that no one cares what you do until you have some results?  You are always coming here and taking up time… oh yes, we are Angels. No worries over time. We have an eternity. Please make my eternity bearable!”

“I’m sorry, Archangel Alice. I apologize.” I looked into her wonderful eyes. Under this rough demeanor, I know she secretly has a thing for me, too.

“You know I can read your thoughts, Investigator Ikart.” For a moment, I got a good vibe.  Then she started to hit the table with her nails rhythmically. “Let me explain something to you. Michael doesn’t care if you are sorry. He would be happy seeing you pull guard duty outside a black hole, just on my say-so. Uriel, on the other hand, would, – –  ”

“You know a black hole is not black.” I was hoping we could change the topic.

“Michael and Gabriel dislike you. Hell, I don’t like you. And if you light up another cigarette here, I will take your whatever, pretend your petite butt is an ashtray, and lovingly send it up your tuchus!”

I quickly put my spliff back in my pocket. “Thank you, Alice. I hope you will ensure you snuff it out before inserting it, but I got the idea. And I know you love me. Remember? That’s what Jehovah’s kid is always saying. Love everyone—your friends and your enemies. Love, love, love.”

“Please, get on with it. Do you have business here?”

“Yes, Indeed, yes. I need to talk to you about business! I just wanted Michael to know that Camile reported a missing angel to the Investigative Unit, and I immediately opened this case. The angel is a Guardian, making this case rather unusual.”

“He already knows. Open a case. Noted.”

“I need to let Michael know where I am going in case I go missing. Some angels, investigators like me, may disappear when a god does not like us looking into their affairs.”

“Yes, we typically have investigators declare a Dangerous Visit, but we will make an exception in your case.”

“Alice, do you always have to give me a hard time?  I have the papers here.”

“I will note that you are on the case. The form will let me know the particulars so I can leave for my appointment to get my wings buffed.”

“The angel that is missing is Panea. I am also trying to find her host, Gwen.”

“Good. Now go!” Alice disappeared.

I suddenly felt watched. I raised a hedge of protection around me, an invisible force field that did not allow emo controllers, mind-readers, and thought trollers from invading my mental space. I then began making mental notes about what I needed to do and also to distract myself from someone observing me. I will head to the park to think. I need to determine a starting point. As usual, I will reconstruct important events in this case by combining the testimonies of various gods, spirits, controllers, and carbonites as needed. I will try to avoid human carbonites because of their atrocious memory.  I should also check in with the Angel’s union. Even though Salina is a bit out of her mind, she has been helpful in a few of my cases.

Summary [S1.6]  > a1.77  06-14-24 (2,368)

Ikart, a whimsical and fashion-forward Investigative Angel, is forced to cut short his much-anticipated vacation when he receives a telepathic message about a missing angel, Panea.

Reluctantly returning to the Celestial realm, Ikart dives headfirst into the investigation, navigating the bustling Celestial business district and interacting with Archangel Alice. As he sets out to find Panea and her host, Gwen, Ikart reflects on his contradictions and adapts to the unfamiliar terrain of angelic mysteries.

Ikart decides to start by interviewing Salina of the Angel Union.

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