

### Jesus Returns!

### Here he comes again...

### Matthew James

Copyright 2018 Matthew James

Published by Matthew James at Smashwords

Email: onlyanatheist@mail.com

Twitter: onlyanatheist1

Cover designed by Natasha Snow. http://natashasnow.com/

Smashwords Edition, license notes

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you're reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to your favourite ebook retailer and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the publisher except for the use of brief quotations in a book review or scholarly journal.

All characters in this publication are fictitious, or based on fictitious religious characters, and any resemblance to real persons (or deities), living or dead, is purely coincidental (or for satirical purposes). None of this is meant to be taken seriously.

Please remember to leave a review at your favourite retailer and visit my author page at Smashwords.

### Chapter One

In which the prodigal son returns, God and His son are reunited, and Jesus faces The New Committee

Meetings, always with the meetings

God was in a meeting. God was often in a meeting but these days it really wasn't so bad. Since reclaiming His Divine Kingdom and reinstalling Himself back into a position of power, God's life had markedly improved. He was once again Lord of all that He surveyed and He had even presided over a reorganisation of the bureaucratic structure of Heaven that had dramatically improved his working life. Now, instead of sitting through endless, incredibly tedious meetings He only had to endure a few, very condensed, summations and thus He was happier.

He knew that He didn't really need to listen to what anyone said anyway; He could tell them the way that things should be and they would just have to put up with it and implement whatever it was He told them to do. He _was_ the Chief after all. Oh, yes, since His trip to Earth and His failed attempt to persuade the belligerent humans to listen to Him, He had most definitely rediscovered His mojo. God was once again in charge of the Universe.

But actually, He didn't want to do that. Since His failed mission God had had become an all-round nicer deity and though he didn't succeed in His aims, the effect the trip had had on Him was dramatic. He was again trying to do the best job that He could do and so that did mean listening to those whose knowledge was greater than His, figuring out the best course of action and then implementing the changes for the better. Thus, He attended the necessary meetings and He listened as well as He could and came to the best conclusions available to Him. Such was the burden of command.

That wasn't to say that things were perfect; they weren't. The angels were still the cause of most of His grief and the thing that annoyed him the most was that they still listened to the whinging of those who thoroughly enjoyed complaining even when the matters that they were whining about were trivial. Consequently some of these issues still made it to His ears but, unless they were serious and needed addressing, God simply ignored them. He wished He had figured that trick out eons ago. It would've saved Him a lot of grief.

Also, since returning from His trip to Earth, God had honoured his promise to Sandalphon and had been spending time with the psychiatrist to which he had been referred. God had tried to keep this information a secret but the bloody angels and their habit of gossiping meant that it had become public knowledge in an astonishingly brief time. To His surprise, God found that he didn't care. He was enjoying the sessions and they were useful. He was a complicated being with issues to resolve and it was nobody's business but His own, not that anyone else seemed to see it that way. But His attitude towards this matter actually seemed to have worked and no one was hassling Him about it. Business for His psychiatrist had also recently spiked; it seemed that everyone wanted to go to the shrink who God talked to.

Actually, one of His unresolved issues had recently returned to Heaven from a mission on a world with newly discovered intelligent life. His son, Jesus. God had been given this information this very morning by His very-much-to-His-surprise now long-suffering secretary. The young angel had not followed the usual pattern of those in his position and sought reassignment as soon as possible and had remained at God's side. God knew this had much to do with His changed attitude since His return and, even though His mission had failed and He had been unable to restore that world to its former glory, God had seemingly reached some peace over the issue and now considered the matter closed.

But He knew that others did not feel the same, including His son, and having 'done His thing', as Jesus liked to say, on yet another world God had been informed that he now wanted to talk to Him about the Earth situation. God was not looking forward to this conversation and now found Himself in the unpleasant situation of not really wanting to talk to His own son. Not that Jesus was actually His biological offspring any more than any other of His creations. He really wasn't all that different from the angels, both had been created by His hands, but for reasons that made perfect sense at the time yet seemed far less sensible now, God had decided to impart a part, a very small measure, of his own energy into Jesus' frame. This gave his son a greater control of the 'divine energies' that he used and was necessary for his missions. It also made Jesus slightly more his son than anything else in the Universe. It shouldn't matter, but no one, not Jesus, not God, nor the angels, saw him in the same way as they did the angels. To everyone Jesus was the son of God and there seemed to be nothing that He could do about it.

The angels were His servants; they were tasked with following His commands and managing His Divine Kingdom and caring for all of the worlds in the Universe. That was their remit. Jesus was an operator from within who was sent to a world, born into the form of an indigenous being and his job was to then set about infiltrating the population, become renowned and use his limited divine power to become revered. Then he would build himself up as an icon around which a religion could be formed and this was used to steer the population down the path that God and His angels felt was right for that individual world. All of this was done in the name of civility and in most cases it worked. But not always. If a population was particularly difficult or belligerent it sometimes backfired. As it had with the bloody humans!

On that world Jesus' method had worked for a time and indeed there were those who still believed in him. But it had not been entirely successful. As well as God and his Kingdom, the humans now believed in all manner of things including many that were fanciful. These included extraterrestrials, fairies and goblins and ogres and many such oddities. Of course, there were indeed species on other worlds but none had yet displayed more than a passing interest in humanity who had been broadcasting their presence to the universe, _via_ radio and televisual signals, for some time. They had gotten some brief interest but the distances involved were so enormous that an expedition had yet to be mounted. And at the rate humans were destroying their world it was more than likely that extraterrestrial visitors would find only a dead world when they arrived.

God didn't know whether or not His son would actually be able to help with the Earth problem but now that Jesus had decided he wanted to try there was little that God, or anyone else, could do about it. Even God had a hard time deterring his son from his chosen path once his mind was set on a particular course and that belligerence was what made Jesus both an effective operator and a pain in the arse. Mostly a pain in the arse.

God knew that His son was already on a flight headed back to the Divine Kingdom and that they would soon need to have a conversation. Most likely a difficult conversation. He asked His secretary to bring Him some tea and then settled in to get as much work done between now and whenever His son decided to show Himself. Once Jesus arrived God knew that His days would likely become very full until such time as he departed, likely leaving a considerable mess in his wake. That was simply Jesus' way: charge in, create a fuss and a mess, and then leave. Someone else would clean it up, they always did. And so God needed as clear a schedule as He could make between now and then. His tea arrived, He thanked His secretary, took a sip and then knuckled down to get some work done.

The prodigal son returns

Jesus' flight arrived back at the Divine Kingdom; he hustled through the airport, flagged down a cab to get back to his residence and headed back to the nice little house that was his. It was within walking distance of his father's residence and, though he wanted to talk to his dad about the success of his recent mission and his desire to help with the Earth situation, it would all have to wait until tomorrow for he was exhausted.

Whenever he undertook a mission like the one he had just completed, the name of the world and people he was already forgetting, he always returned happy but exhausted. Happy that the mission was a success and that he was a revered figure on yet another world and for yet another people, but exhausted as getting to that point was a lot of work. It also didn't help that the usual end point for his mission was the death of the body in which he had been living. But that was the way the gig worked and there was nothing to be done about it and so little point complaining.

Unfortunately, this process always left him physically and mentally exhausted. Sure, there was the resurrection, which was a blast, but in between came his sacrifice in undeniably brutal ways. This time it had been exsanguination, but throughout history Jesus had been killed in almost every way that it was possible for a mortal being to die. And, after he'd had a few drinks with his posse, his cadre, his disciples, Jesus was prone to describing, at length, what the experience of each was like to anyone who'd listen. He could tell you which was more painful, which lasted longest, which was surprisingly peaceful and so on. He had recounted all of them to his fans, of which he had a large number, both on the world's he visited and in the Heavenly Realm at the gatherings that he decided to grace with his presence.

Right now though Jesus needed to eat, bathe, and then to sleep, in that order and so made some food, crashed out in front of the TV and relaxed. He found some inane show imported from Earth to watch as he ate and, moments later, realised that he was actually enjoying it. The last time he was on that particular world the indigenous life forms hadn't yet reached the technological stage required to produce entertainment like this and he wondered what else he might find, what other fun he might have. It now occurred to him that visiting Earth might be more enjoyable than he had initially thought. From what he remembered humans liked to drink, party and fornicate, three of Jesus' favourite activities, so maybe he could actually enjoy himself before he returned to the Heavenly Realm for his next mission.

First though he had to tell his dad what he had planned and so, when the show ended, he bathed and retired to his bed to rest. He wanted to have the energy required for the discussion and, most likely, the arguments that would inevitably follow once he announced his intentions. It didn't really matter though, his mind was set, he was going to Earth and all he now had to do was convince his father, and the interminable bureaucracy that Heaven had become, of this fact. Yet whatever happened on Earth he knew he should try to enjoy himself and he would, provided his followers, of which he usually had many, acceded to his wishes. And they usually were only too happy to do so for was he not the son of God? And life for the son of God was usually quite a blast!

The following morning Jesus was woken by Jedathun and his newly reformed choir. Since returning to the Heavenly Realm God had restored several things, including this gathering, to something of their former glories. And though the choir was not as it once had been, which would have required more resources than even God could spare for something so frivolous, it was nevertheless an impressive sight and sound. Jesus just wished they didn't have to start so bloody early! He wondered why the day couldn't be welcomed a little more quietly and much, much later on. He pulled his pillow over his head and tried to get back to sleep but it was no use. The noise was simply too loud to be ignored.

Jesus dragged himself from his bed, made and poured himself a coffee and then took another cab to the office to talk to his father. On expenses of course for the son of God does not pay for anything that he does not have to. As far as Jesus was concerned he didn't need an appointment to talk to his dad; he could just show up and they would accommodate him, they always did. Jesus didn't really know how the world worked for other people, but for him it was just fine.

He rode the elevator up to the office and walked straight in passing the secretary who really disliked him. Actually none of his father's secretaries had ever really liked him, but Jesus truly didn't care. The angel tried to put himself between Jesus and the door to God's office but he was far too slow. Jesus had practised the art of rushing past someone who didn't want you going where you were intent on going far too many times to be stopped by this amateur. He opened the door and found that his father was in the middle of a phone call and God looked up to see his son standing in His office. He was far less surprised than Jesus had expected and so he knew that someone had blabbed that he was coming. Those bloody angels and their gossiping!

"OK," God said to the person on the other end of the line. "Thanks for the update. I'll look forward to your report. Goodbye, Sandy." God placed the phone back in the receiver and walked over to Jesus. They hugged, something which God had only recently adopted as a form of greeting, and then God retook his seat behind the desk while Jesus took the one that sat in front.

"It's good to see you, son," said God, sincerely. It had been a while since they had been in the same room together and God found that He had missed His son's company. "How did the mission go?"

"It was a rousing success, Dad, but then I'm sure you knew that." God had in fact known that but had asked so as to be polite. Despite having been father and son for a long time neither felt truly comfortable in their respective roles and God did not yet know how to change this situation. For the time being it was what it was.

"Good, I'm glad," He replied. "How are you feeling after your, well, the conclusion of your mission?"

"Tired," Jesus replied. "As always. But then that's the gig, isn't it. And it's not like anyone else can do it." God still felt guilty that his son had been created to fulfill this particular role and for all that came with it. He knew Jesus enjoyed the work, indeed he was very good at it, but he also knew the cost he paid. It wasn't easy dying so frequently, even if he was always reborn. There was inevitably some trauma involved.

"Well, rest and relax. You've earned it. And if you want someone to talk to..." Jesus smirked. He actually smirked at the suggestion that he might want to talk to his dad.

"Yeah, I don't think so," Jesus sharply replied.

"Well, I've been talking to someone for a little while now and it's been very helpful," God added.

"Yeah, I know," Jesus replied. "Everyone knows. It's lame, dad." God wondered why his son had to make him feel small for needing someone to talk to and then immediately decided not to feel that way. Since beginning His sessions He genuinely felt better, His mood had improved, and He knew that He was dealing with issues that ideally should've been resolved a long time ago.

"Well, I'm finding it useful," He said. Jesus nearly scoffed again and so God pressed on. "Look, the offer is there, should you change your mind." Jesus simply smiled a very patronising smile.

"I don't think so," he repeated. "But there was something I wanted to talk to you about." Right, here we go, thought God. Quick to the point, as ever. "Earth. It's a mess. You went, you tried to fix it, you failed. Now I want to try." There was a long, awkward pause while the two beings collected their thoughts.

"Why?" asked God.

"That world still needs saving, right?" replied Jesus, glibly. God took His time replying, seemingly gathering His thoughts.

"I thought that it did," replied God. "That is why I went. Now I'm not so sure."

"Look, dad," said Jesus, "just 'cause you failed, doesn't mean that _I_ will." God hated when Jesus spoke to Him this way. His son was one of the few beings that got away with being glib to Him. Jesus had been His son for many thousands of millennia and God had expected him to get past his rebellious phase by now but that had not yet happened. He had also been hoping that His son would've grown up a little, but that too was yet to materialise and God knew that the treatment Jesus received from those around him was probably part of the problem.

Everyone in Heaven, and indeed anyone employed by the Heavenly Realm, treated Jesus exactly as they thought they should. As the son of their Lord. God knew this was partly His fault but what could He do? The role Jesus played needed a 'one of a kind' creation were he to be successful, and a higher status inevitably came with said role. There was no doubt that dying during the mission also unsurprisingly impacted on His son's ego and all of this dictated His son's place in Heaven and in the Heavenly Armed Services. It also meant that God treated His son with more compassion than His other servants. After all, none of the angel's suffered in the way that Jesus did and God had some experience of what this was like during His recent trip to Earth. It was all rather traumatic and so God felt that he should be nicer to Jesus than the angels, whose primary purpose was to bring him bad news and impose bureaucracy wherever they went. It wasn't really fair to judge them on unequal terms, but God didn't know how to do otherwise.

"Look, son, I've resolved myself to allow the human's time to decide their own fate." God paused before continuing, hoping to convey to His son His desire that he not take this mission on. "But if you want to go then go. If you think you can fix the situation that I was unable to rectify then you go right ahead." There was a distinct tone to God's speech that implied that He thought that outcome was very unlikely. God had tried speaking in a neutral tone but it had not worked. His feelings on this matter were clear and Jesus looked amused.

"I will, dad. Actually, I'm only here to tell you what I'm going to be doing. I wasn't asking permission." On previous occasions God would have allowed his son to do this, to tell him what was happening and then to leave. God would then have had to complete the necessary paperwork to get permission for his son. But not this time. This time Jesus would have to do the hard work.

"That's not how it works, son. I might once again be in charge around here but I can't just give you permission. You'll have to talk to The Committee about it and they'll have to decide whether you can go." God was actually smiling as He spoke, amused that His son was now trapped in the quagmire than He Himself had recently navigated.

"You can't be serious," said Jesus. He paused for a moment, searching for a way around his predicament. "You're not joking?" God shook His head, still smiling. Jesus decided a different tack was in order. "I thought you were once again the ruler of all you surveyed? Have I been misinformed?" Jesus sounded remarkably brattish as he said this and God disliked that about his son, that snarky quality.

"I might be in charge," God replied, "but there is still procedure to follow. Unfortunately." He said this last word but He didn't mean it. This time God was glad The Committee was in place as it meant that Jesus would have to deal with them. "I'll schedule a meeting and let you know where and when you need to be there."

"Shit, dad," said Jesus. "You're really going to make me do this properly?"

"I am, son," God replied, smiling. "Things have to be done correctly." Jesus sat for a moment and then he stood and walked to the door.

"OK, we'll do it your way. I'll convince your Committee and then I'll go to Earth and I'll fix your little problem. And I'll even have fun doing it!" And with that Jesus left God's office leaving Him feeling a little perplexed. Even at his most narcissistic Jesus wasn't usually this bad and God worried if His son really did need to talk to someone, even if that someone wasn't Him. Right now there was nothing He could do about it so He asked His secretary to schedule a meeting with The Committee for the next available slot and then returned to His work, all the while wishing there was more He could do to help His son.

Jesus versus the New Committee

Jesus spent the next few days resting and recuperating, relaxing with his disciples and, occasionally, thinking about what he would actually say to The New Committee. His thoughts on the matter could be best summed up as 'I want to go so let me' so he didn't really spend too long on the issue.

God spent the intervening time filling out the paperwork necessary for the meeting to take place for even He, back in power as He was, could only change things so much. He was the new boss, same as the old, and some small measure of the old ways had returned but more had stayed the same. God could see the benefit of a great deal of what the angels had done and He had undertaken a careful review to determine what to keep and what should go. He had even kept the dreaded Committee in place and Jesus would now be facing it in its current incarnation. The number of members who sat had actually been increased and now, besides Azrael, Raphael, Michael and Gabriel, there were several new faces including a surprising addition. God had invited Lucifer to take a seat at the table and the angel had agreed.

After His adventure on Earth, God had received an email from Jeffrey explaining the role that Lucifer had played in convincing him to offer his help. Jeffrey had explained that the angel wanted to spend some time with his creator without needing to misbehave to get his attention and consequently they had met and spent some time talking. Over a pot of tea and some crumpets, though Lucifer would've preferred something alcoholic, they began to work on their relationship and, seeing as Lucifer ran one of His departments, and a rather crucial one at that, God had offered Him a seat at the table. In retrospect it was odd to have ever excluded him.

Not that God had yet forgiven the angel for their disagreement, but that was ancient history at this point and yet another issue that God was trying to work through with His psychiatrist. It would take some time to iron out all His problems but He was glad to finally be working on them. And Lucifer was happy to be included and to be allowed to spend some time with Him. Actually the angel was a valuable addition to the group, with his no nonsense approach proving to be a good sounding board for bad decisions, and God found that He was often glad to have him present.

But of course the biggest change was that God was now at the head of the table for where else should He be? Metatron was still somewhere in the far reaches of the universe performing menial tasks and, though God had wanted to place Himself directly above the Committee in the hierarchical structure, He knew that would likely be a step too far in the direction of the way things used to be and would probably give Him too much power with too little accountability. Instead, God was in Metatron's old spot and the Committee remained mostly as it was. Yet without Metatron's influence they were far more amenable to His leadership, provided He was reasonable, which He was trying very hard to be.

Now, instead of God seeking permission to travel to Earth, it was the turn of His son to try his luck and face The New Committee.

This should be interesting, God thought, amused by the scenario. God knew that Jesus would not be taking the same tack that He Himself had taken, for that was not his way. Jesus would likely be appealing to them on the basis of his record. This had worked for him before and He was interested to see whether it would work again. It probably would, He thought.

On the day of the meeting God walked down to the room having moved His office to a bigger space on a higher floor since reclaiming power. He arrived at the door and looked in. The members of the New Committee were already gathered and He took his place at the head of the table. Previously, the angels would stop talking when He entered the room but now they were comfortable enough with Him to carry on and God found that He liked this development. It made Him feel more comfortable. The angels continued to glow in His presence but there was nothing He that could do about that and He now enjoyed spending time in situations like this when He had previously found it to be torturous. He might not yet truly be a part of this group but things were better and He enjoyed the company that He came with his new role and situation. Now all they needed to do was to wait for His son to turn up, which He eventually would do. When he felt like it. They might be waiting some time but that didn't matter too much for there were tea and biscuits to enjoy!

Jesus did indeed eventually turn up. God had never known anyone who was so bad at getting to a meeting punctually and by the time he did appear the angels were getting restless. Jesus walked into the room, straight to the head of the table besides his father and immediately began speaking.

"Good afternoon, Committee members," Jesus began as the room quietened down. "Thank you for agreeing to meet with me. I'm sure you all know why I am here so let's get straight to the point where you grant me permission and we can be done with all this nonsense." God's son had never been one for doing things the hard way when the easy would suffice and everyone knew his opinion of Heaven's bureaucracy. Actually, his attitude was similar to how God's had once been and the deity knew that He likely bore some of the blame for that too. But He didn't really want to think about that right now.

"Son, they don't know why you're here," God said. "I do, but you'll have to explain it to everyone else." Jesus looked surprised and silence filled the room while he composed his thoughts. After several moments God broke the silence. "Son," he said. "The floor is yours." Jesus walked around the room, taking in those assembled faces.

"OK, you all know who I am," he said, grandly. "You all know what I do." They did, Jesus was quite a celebrity in the Heavenly Realms and where God shied away from fame, Jesus embraced his. "You know my record, my rather excellent record." A noise passed around the room and God tried to decide whether it was approving or not. He wasn't sure and thought that the audience might be split, some approving of Jesus' work and other's disapproving of his attitude. Jesus continued.

"And we all know that one of our worlds, in particular, is a problem, and has been for as long as I can remember." God looked at His son, aware of how good he was at manipulating those around him. God was also concerned about where his son was going with this, considering His own failure. "I'm speaking, of course, of Earth." Jesus took a moment to assess the reaction of the room. There was a general chattering and God thought more than a little 'not this again'.

"No doubt you are all aware that, despite our best efforts, when it comes to that world we have failed." There it was, thought God. My failure. "On many occasions and I include myself in this," Jesus continued magnanimously. "I've been to Earth, I've influenced their evolution. But it wasn't enough. And now it seems that they are on a course to destroy their world and it is our job to stop them, to save them." Jesus paused, taking in the atmosphere in the room. He was quite adept at assessing the situation in which he found himself and calculating the best route to get to where he wanted to be. He continued.

"My father recently tried to convince them to change but it didn't work, it wasn't enough. There is little doubt that they are one of the most stubborn species that we currently watch over. Ignoring God when He shows up and talks to you is impressively pigheaded but, despite this, their world still needs saving. They continue to need our help and it is our duty to aid them. It is clear that what this situation needs is something dramatic, something with flair." Here we go, thought God. "What this situation needs," said His son, "is me." And there it was, the inevitable conclusion that only Jesus could reach. One of the angels cleared his throat.

"Why," said one of the archangels whose name Jesus didn't know, "does this situation need you?" he asked. "What could you do that your father could not?" Jesus gave the angel a long, hard stare and the being blushed.

"Look," said Jesus. "Dad had a go, a very concerted crack at fixing the situation. And, despite the best efforts of one of your number to prevent him from succeeding, He spoke to the indigenous population." They all knew what Metatron had done, his actions were now infamous in the Heavenly Realm. "But the forces aligned against Him were too great and He was ignored. What that world needs now is an insider, someone who's been there before and still has a considerable following among the humans. Someone who can work from the inside. Me." Jesus looked quite smug at his own conclusion but God couldn't fault him. His methods had been proven to work again and again and The Committee knew that. He had a considerable weight of evidence on his side and God thought that might be what would sway The Committee, if they were to be persuaded.

"Allow me to put across the other side, as the voice of restraint and reason," said Lucifer contributing to the conversation. The angel was dressed as smartly as ever and his voice was still like treacle and remarkably sexy, so much so that some of the other angels occasionally blushed around him. And these were almost entirely sexless beings. God thought that Lucifer enjoyed that reaction and even took pains to enunciate more clearly so as to elicit said response.

"The Committee have already allowed our Lord to go to that world to try to fix the situation," said the angel. Jesus' face conveyed his surprise at the idea that his father had been 'allowed' to do anything. He remembered a time when God would've stomped any and all of these beings into the ground for using such insolent language. But that was a long time ago and things now were obviously quite different. "Your father broke the rules that limit his conduct on several occasions and yet was still unsuccessful at changing the ways of the inhabitants of that world. Despite speaking directly to the humans and pleading His case, the path that they are on has not significantly altered. And if your father, in all His wisdom, was unable to affect change, what could you possibly do that would bring a different result?"

Again, silence filled the room and Jesus seemed to enjoy waiting a few moments before speaking. God wasn't sure why but His son seemed to think that it added gravitas to what he said. Either that or he was taking his time collecting his thoughts. Really taking his time. Jesus seemed to forget that these angels had been playing this game for far longer than he had and they knew exactly what he was doing. All it really did was make him look foolish and amateurish. But then that was Jesus all over.

"My father cannot do what I can do. My father is not the honed and accomplished operator that I am. To be frank, Dad didn't know what He was doing. I do. I visited the Earth some time ago and I am, no doubt, remembered by the people of that world. That gives me an advantage that dad didn't have, even without the help of a human. And my ability to do what I do, will overcome the ridiculous restrictions that this Committee has imposed on operations like mine." Jesus again paused. He really did like his dramatic pauses, thought God.

"What it comes down to is whether we want to save that world," said Lucifer. "That is the crux of the matter. Is the world, and all those that inhabit it, worth the effort that we would be expending or could the resources be put to better use? Look, we all know your record," he said, looking at Jesus. "You are a successful operator." Jesus looked like he wanted to scoff at this choice of words. In his mind 'successful' didn't come close to what he was. "And we are grateful for your enthusiasm. But your efforts may be better spent elsewhere and it is our job to decide where to allocate our resources. We shall need some time to discuss this matter and to make our decision."

"By all means," said Jesus. There was another long, awkward pause where Jesus didn't quite understand that he was being asked to leave the room. He continued to stand in silence, waiting for The Committee to continue.

"OK, son," said God deciding to take control of the room and to force the issue. "We all need to discuss your proposal so would you mind leaving the room?" Jesus looked astonished at this suggestion.

"If you need me, I'll be over here," Jesus replied, walking defiantly to the corner of the room and taking a seat that had been conveniently placed there.

"Right, I guess he'll be over there," God said. "OK, I'm not going to participate in this discussion, due to my relationship with the interested party, but I will sit and chair this meeting. It is in your hands as to whether or not this mission that Jesus has suggested is allowed to proceed. So please, discuss." And the angels did. They talked the issue through at length, ignoring the presence of both the Father and the Son and they put across both sides and eventually reached a decision. Jesus was then summoned back to the table to hear their verdict and again it was Lucifer who spoke.

"Jesus, in light of your service to the Heavenly Realm, our desire to repair the damage that humanity has done to their world and your ability to perform well in difficult situations we have decided to grant your request. You may travel to Earth and-"

"Do my thing!" Jesus yelled, finishing Lucifer's sentence.

"Indeed," continued the angel, unruffled. "Travel to Earth station, check in with Sandalphon and he will help you with your mission. But, for the record, I personally doubt that you will succeed where your father failed." There was a murmur of agreement from the other members and Jesus glared at them for a long moment. He seemed to be of the impression that he could change their minds simply by staring at them. "But then I guess we shall see. Gentlemen," Lucifer said to the assembled angels. "We are adjourned." The angels stood and filed out of the room leaving God alone with His son.

"What a bunch of prats!" yelled Jesus. "Seriously, dad, dealing with them, how the hell do you ever get anything done?" God smiled.

"They're not as bad as all that, son," He said. "And they're better than they were." God looked at His son for a moment, proud of his interest in wanting to help the Earth. God knew that there was a certain amount of wanting to succeed where He Himself had failed but He decided to ignore that for now and focus on the positive. He knew that it wasn't always easy being His son.

"Good luck, my son," He said, smiling. Jesus returned the smile, somewhat bashfully.

"Thanks dad," Jesus replied.

And then father and son awkwardly hugged, a true man-hug where neither party knows what they should be doing, and then together headed out of the meeting room and off to their respective destinations.

Jesus walked home, glad to be off on another mission but still annoyed at the attitude of The Committee. He thought that his record should be enough to allow him to take on any mission of his choice and he resolved to prove them wrong. He also wondered how in the hell his father dealt with all of this bureaucracy that entangled them all on a daily basis. Jesus knew that he could never cope with it and was glad he still had a field job. A desk job would drive him to insanity very quickly.

He reached his abode, grabbed the bag that he had already packed in anticipation of this result, for the one thing Jesus does not lack is confidence, and headed off to catch the next available flight. He didn't need a ticket, such things were for ordinary beings in the Heavenly Realm and not for the son of God himself. Jesus took a nice stroll towards the terminal, looking forward to all of the fun he expected to have once he reached his destination. Maybe sooner, if things went his way. And most of the time things did indeed go the way of the son of God.

### Chapter Two

In which Jesus travels to Earth, meets with an angel and a plan is formed

Supervision for His son

God returned to His office, said hello to His secretary and then requested a cup of tea and sat in His chair. Well, that went better than expected, He thought. He had not really anticipated The Committee refusing his son's request but he had also expected a bit more of a fight and was quite glad that it had been relatively easy for permission to be given. God knew His son would be less impressed by these events, but then Jesus did not have to deal with the bureaucracy of Heaven all that often. His assignment's required long spells spent on worlds under the purview of the Heavenly Armed Services and then infrequent, and short, trips back to the Heavenly Realms. As a result, Jesus avoided interaction with most except his immediate support teams and that was what God turned His attention to now.

Jesus would need some help if he was to be successful in his mission and God did indeed want His son to succeed. He picked up the phone and dialled Sandy's number at the Earth station. After a few rings, it was picked up.

"Sandalphon?" asked God.

"No, this is his secretary. He's in a meeting. Can I get him to call you back?" God momentarily flashed back to a time when He would've demanded to speak to the angel immediately. But that was not the deity that He was now.

"Yes, that's fine. Thank you," He said and put down the phone. His secretary appeared a few moments later with a fresh pot of tea.

"Is there anything else you need, sir?" the young angel asked.

"Not right now, thank you," He replied. He poured the tea and then sat waiting for the phone to ring. A few minutes later it did so and He picked it up.

"Lord?" said Sandy. "You called?"

"Yes, I did," He replied. "Thank you for calling me back so quickly. I wanted to let you know that my son has decided that what the situation on Earth now needs is him. He managed to convince The Committee and he is now on his way to you."

"Ah, I see," Sandy replied. "How long till I can expect him?"

"Oh, he'll be on the next flight. He's quite keen."

"Right. And what would you like me to do?" There was a long, pause while God asked Himself what it was that He actually _did_ want Sandy to do.

"I'd like you to help him," God replied. "But don't go above or beyond or he'll realise what I'm doing."

"And we wouldn't want that, would we?" replied the angel. "OK, I will do what I can, what I am allowed to do, and I will endeavour to myself that my actions are at your behest."

"Thank you," said God. "I appreciate it. I also wanted to thank you for your recommendation. My sessions are going quite well, I think."

"So I heard!" Sandy replied, excitedly. "I am very glad." Sandy had indeed that this was the case and was grateful to have been of assistance to his Lord. "Once your son arrives and is settled in I shall let you know how things are proceeding."

"Thank you, my friend," said God, hanging up the phone. He breathed a sigh of relief, glad that the caretaker of Earth would be keeping an eye on His son. The situation seemed to have worked out in a satisfactory manner thus far and so He was now able to attend to His duties. He asked His secretary for the schedule and sighed loudly at the list of meetings that filled His afternoon.

Oh, well, He thought. There's nothing to be done but get on with them. Sometimes God wondered whether reclaiming His Kingdom had been such a good idea but in truth He was glad He had. At least now He was in charge of all this bureaucracy and that was better than the alternative.

Jesus travels to Earth

And so the son of God flew to Earth. Despite the changes that God had made since reclaiming His Kingdom the lack of first class seating on flights remained the same. Jesus couldn't fathom why his Dad hadn't made this the first thing that He fixed but He hadn't and there was nothing that Jesus could do about it now. He would have to add it to the list of things to talk to his dad about this when he returned home victorious.

Arriving at the terminal Jesus was quickly spotted and then rapidly escorted through the building and onto the plane, for the son of God did not have to wait in line; celebrity definitely had its privileges. They even managed to give him some privacy and he was sequestered away from the rest of the plebs on the flight. As he waited for the departure he flicked through the options on the entertainment system. There was nothing that particularly caught his attention and he was contemplating a long and boring flight when a young angel stuck his head around the curtain and smiled warmly.

"Do you need anything, sir?" he asked. Jesus smiled.

"Something to drink would be good. Something nice and alcoholic." The angel nodded and disappeared behind the curtain. He quickly returned holding a decent looking bottle of bubbly and a glass. He placed the glass next to Jesus and began to remove the cork.

"And another glass," said Jesus. The angel looked perplexed for a second and then realisation struck.

"Oh, I couldn't," he said.

"You can," said Jesus, "and you will. I require company. And another glass." Jesus spoke softly but firmly. He didn't need to be aggressive or raise his voice for those around him usually did as he asked. The angel paused for a moment and then smiled a mischievous smile. He left Jesus alone for a moment before returning with another glass. He finished uncorking the bottle and then poured two glasses of the beverage. Jesus smelled the drink and took a sip.

"Not bad," he said. The angel smiled. "What do you think?" The angel was yet to take a sip but he now did so.

"It's nice," he said. "Fruity." Jesus tapped the seat beside him.

"Sit," he said. "I don't want to spend this flight by myself."

"But," said the angel, "I have work to do."

"No, you don't," he replied. Reluctantly the angel sat. A few seconds later another angel stuck his head around the curtain. He had a quizzical look on his face and was no doubt looking for his subordinate. But when he saw who the angel was with he held back from uttering whatever tirade he had already drafted in his head.

"Do you need anything," asked the senior angel, as keen to please as his subordinate.

"If I do," said Jesus, "I have someone who can help me," Jesus said, placing his hand onto the leg of the angel at his side.

"OK," he said, disappearing from view. Jesus' companion appeared to relax and he was glad. Now things were better. He also hadn't yet removed his hand from the angel's leg and the angel hadn't commented.

He took another swig of the bubbly and gestured that his companion do the same.

"So, what's it like, working here?" he asked the angel.

"It's fine," the angel replied. "My boss is a hard-arse and it's not every day you serve God's son, but otherwise it's fine."

"Would you mind bringing me something to eat?" he asked his host, smiling warmly.

"Sure thing," came the reply. The angel disappeared behind curtain, leaving Jesus alone. He took stock for a moment and found that he was hard beneath his tunic. For some reason, every time a mission ended, he returned to Heaven unbelievably horny. Yet until he set off on a mission there was not much he could do to relieve himself. Well, there were things he could do but not the things he wanted to do. And the angels were not much help with this matter being as they were sexless beings. Besides, there was too much similarity between them and he felt that would be a little too close to incest. His family was messed up enough without further complicating matters. No, he would doubtless be able to get what he needed once he reached his destination and his mission began. For now he would just have to wait.

He settled back for the long journey, glad to have some company, and sipped his drink. He was actually looking forward to arriving at the Earth. The last time he was there he had enjoyed himself, up to the point where he had been nailed to a cross and left to die. That was less fun, however necessary. He was sure that there would be a considerable amount of enjoyment to be had before he got anywhere near the end of the mission. Humans were fun beings to be around, for a while at least.

Then, once his mission was completed, he could return to Heaven and bathe in the glory that a mission like this would afford him. For succeeding where even his father had failed would surely cement his reputation as Heaven's finest operative. Yes, that would be a fine victory indeed and Jesus found that he was keen to begin. He settled back into his chair to enjoy the flight as best he could, again glad that he had some company and a decent bottle to pass the time.

The angel reappeared with a bowl of peanuts, retaking his seat and took another sip of his drink. Jesus smiled again. Then, for the next few hours he ran his host ragged, behaved like a spoiled brat and generally acted like the celebrity that he was. He knew he could get away with it and he thoroughly enjoyed every minute. His host, less so.

The Second Coming

The flight arrived at the Earth station and Jesus disembarked. He was feeling more relaxed than he had in a while and he was very glad of it. He knew that his time on this world would likely be stressful and so he was grateful to arrive somewhat refreshed. He passed through customs and was surprised to find that there was no one waiting for him. He was usually met by a large entourage so this was indeed strange and he took a moment to figure out what to do next.

Eventually he wandered through the station, taking it all in. He thought that the environment was all rather shiny and lacked flair but then he had been dealing with the angels long enough to know that was the way they were and how they worked and, unlike his father, he didn't really care. They did their jobs and he did his and that was enough.

He ambled around for a while and then stumbled upon the large, central chamber and stood taking in the view of Earth that the huge window in the platform allowed. He found it to be a rather nice looking, blue planetoid, exactly as it had been the last time he was here. But that had been many years ago and he had visited so many other similar worlds since. After a while they all blended into one. What he remembered most from his missions were the beings whose forms he took on each world, the shape of the indigenous life-forms and the way they procreated. These were the things that mattered to him. Also, for the more evolved species that he visited he savoured the cuisine, the culture and their ways of life for they were always fascinating too. All were worth exploring and enjoying.

There was a cough from behind him and Jesus spun around to find Sandalphon standing behind him. At first Jesus had been annoyed that he hadn't been met at the gate but now he was glad that he hadn't been. Wandering around the station by himself had been much more fun than immediately getting on with business. He also found that, unlike most bureaucratic of the beings he interacted with, he was actually glad to see this particular angel.

"Sandy!" he said, stepping forward and hugging the angel. There was an awkward moment before Sandalphon returned the hug and they embraced for a few seconds. This angel was one of the few beings that Jesus actually liked. It might be due to his former life as a human, which gave him far better interpersonal skills and an understanding of those under his charge. Or maybe he was simply very likeable. Sandalphon could also relate to the way in which Jesus behaved having once been there himself; most angels found Jesus baffling whereas Sandy and he had some common ground. Of course Jesus couldn't manipulate this angel as easily as he could many of the others, but that simply made him more of a challenge.

"Jesus," the angel replied. "I received word that you were coming and I am sorry that I could not meet you at the gate. I was unable to escape my duties in time."

"Not a problem," said Jesus. "Dad called, huh?" The angel did not respond and so Jesus knew that it was true. "No worries, I expected he would. Told you to keep an eye on me, did he?" Again Sandy did not reply, he merely nodded. The angel did not want to say any more in front of the rather perceptive son of God. "You'd think by now He'd have learned to trust me but no bother. I'm glad that you're here now. Wanna give me the tour and catch me up?"

"Sure," said the angel. "Follow me." The angel turned and began to walk off. Jesus quickly caught up and put his arms through Sandalphons. Wow, he really likes tactile contact, doesn't he, thought the angel, leading the way.

After his tour around the station Jesus was shown into a room that had been made up for him and it was perfect, as he knew that it would be. If there was one thing that the angels could do well it was organise and arrange. The room was large and bright with free-flowing curtains, soft furnishings and space for him to breathe. The angels had done an exemplary job and Jesus expressed his gratitude to his guide.

"It is our pleasure to serve the son of our Lord," said Sandalphon. "Tomorrow I will give you the most recent reports on the state of the world below us so that you can understand the size of the task ahead." And won't that be fun, thought Jesus. "And then we can begin our search for a suitable host and begin to implement your plan." Sandy did not need to say what the plan was. With Jesus it was always the same plan. He was nothing if not consistent. "In the meantime please relax and let me know if there's anything else you need."

The only thing Jesus wanted was something that he couldn't ask of an angel, especially one that was known to be friends with his father. He did not need news of his predilections reaching the ears of his dad. But there was something that he had not enjoyed for a long time that he would like.

"Actually, some wine would be nice," he said. The fruits of each of the worlds he visited were definite perks of the job and Jesus had not been back to Earth for a long time so these fruits would be especially sweet.

"And some company to enjoy it with?" he asked, risking his luck.

"I will see to the wine," Sandy replied. "As for the company, well I have the feeling that will take care of itself."

The angel was not wrong. Once word spread around the station of Jesus' presence a queue formed outside his quarters. And this happened rapidly for the angels are terrible gossips and information of this nature moved apace. Jesus then had all the company, and indeed willing servants, that he desired for they all wanted to seek the council of the son of God. And they were eager to pay for this information with whatever he wished of them.

Eventually, once all of his desires that he could currently be sated had been, work had to intrude. Sandalphon organised his staff to provide Jesus with the reports and the assistance that he required and, once Jesus actually showed up, they began to make progress. Not that Jesus actually read any of the reports, but they were summarised for him and he got the gist. At least Sandalphon thought that he understood, but who could tell for the son of God was very good at faking it. It did not matter too much for the plan was a good one. And the plan, as always, was for Jesus to be reborn. That was, after all, his 'thing'.

Jesus' thing

In times gone by Jesus worked according to a particular protocol. He would be born into the population of a world via the natural means of procreation. A native would be selected to be 'impregnated' with his essence and he would be born as a baby of that species in due and natural course. Thus his allegiance to that species would never be in question and he would grow up as one of them and could not be labelled as an outsider. He would learn the language and the culture and he would really be one of them. It was a plan that had been shown to work time and time again.

And if a suitable virgin could be found to bear him then all the better. This generated an immediate buzz as to his divine province and gave him a head start on building his following. And once he had reached maturity he could set about continuing to build upon this foundation and applying his considerable skill set, and the limited amounts of divine energy that he had access to, towards this goal.

Jesus was one of a few beings still permitted to use the energy in this way, most uses being phased out under the bureaucracy of Heaven, and this allowed to him perform 'miracles'. These acts were usually small things that could never be disproven as anything other than 'tricks', but nevertheless contributed to his growing legend and, as his fame grew, so did his following until his name was known far and wide. Then, and only then, was he allowed to perform more impressive feats like walking on water and turning water into wine, though this was a relatively simple trick and one that went down very well at parties.

And in this way Jesus became a cultural and religious icon. This facilitated the instillation of the role of God and His servants into civilisations and was used to steer the evolution of each species. And it worked. It had shown success on many occasions on multiple worlds. It also meant that Jesus had lived a life amongst a great many different species which made him an entirely unique individual. There was no being quite like the son of God in all the cosmos.

The main problem with that method was that it was really slow. Eons ago, when Jesus' patience was greater, he didn't mind. It was quite pleasant growing up on a world as a local and then eventually discovering who he really was and why he was there. Oftentimes he would receive a visit from an angel to inform him of his divine providence. There would be a period of adjustment during which he would typically 'lose his shit' as he put it. He would rant and rave against what was being done to him, what he himself had agreed to, and then he would settle down and get on with the job at hand. The more times Jesus went through this process the more memory he retained, the less explanation he required, and the more resentful he became of the role that he was supposed to fulfill. But there was no one else who could do what he could quite like him.

Eventually something had to change. And that thing was being reborn. After much discussion, for which read Jesus telling the angels that things were going to change and them debating said changes, Jesus altered his method. So now, instead of being impregnated into a woman and waiting to grow up, Jesus was simply implanted into a fully grown human. This solved the issue at hand and allowed him to immediately get on with his mission. The downside was this was that Jesus effectively became the person that he inhabited and they ceased to be. It was murder in the name of a higher power but murder nonetheless.

Jesus had rationalised that is was all for the greater good but the angels, and even his father, did not like what this meant. Jesus felt that the sacrifice of one life was a small thing, especially considering the fragility and briefness of their lives and the ease with which they often threw them away, and the issue had been left to sit until a better solution could be found. To date no such solution had been found but such was the way of bureaucracy.

So, with the help of Sandalphon and his staff, Jesus began his search for a suitable candidate or rather for a suitable population for the method was not all that accurate. He had to be very careful when selecting the area, for the person he became should fit a certain profile and the parameters were quite specific. After all, did the son of God not deserve anything less? Eventually, after much searching they found a suitable group to aim for, a people whom Jesus was happy to become of. And the process began.

Rebirth

Emir went to bed one night with his wife, and his kids safe asleep in the next room, and awoke the next morning as someone else. Today he was the son of God. Being reborn in this way was a trying experience that took some getting used to and, as Jesus awoke, he took a few moments to settle himself into his new human frame. Before he opened his eyes He examined the man's faculties and memories and found that everything seemed to be in order, the integration had gone well and more quickly than expected. He could remember everywhere the man had been and all that he had done before being combined with Jesus. He had access to the man's skills, his language and all that he would need to behave as a human. He also had complete access to Jesus' skills and memories and it seemed that the two had been successfully merged.

As Jesus continued to rouse he opened his eyes to check that he could see. He moved all of his limbs and was satisfied that he had control of this body and then he took his time examining his surroundings. He was in what was a comfortable bed in what looked like a nice house. The sun was peeking through the curtains and so he guessed that it was morning.

And he was lying next to what looked like an attractive woman. She was also naked and Jesus quickly found himself aroused. He slid his hand over her exposed backside, enjoying the smoothness of her skin. He slid his other hand underneath her breast and cupped her. He continued to caress her until she began to stir.

"Morning," she said, in Arabic. "Feeling amorous this morning, are we?" She was really quite pretty.

"I might be," he replied, also in Arabic. Jesus was glad that integrating into a being such as a human was such a seamless transition and that he didn't require months of studying to learn the local language. He didn't have the patience for that and didn't want to think about what his life would be like if he had to. No, this rather lovely lady lying next to him was what he wanted to think about.

He checked his memory and found that she was his wife and so he decided to continue. He slid his hand down her backside and parted her legs. She did not resist. Why would she? He was her husband, after all. He caressed her and she smiled. Then he moved behind her and parted her legs. He was stiff and pressing against her and she pushed back to meet him and he slid into her. She moaned as they began to make love and, as they continued, he thought about how much fun missions like this could be.

After they were done, he lay with his wife for a while, enjoying the warmth of her against him. He found that he was quite content enjoying the post-orgasmic sensation and, for a moment, he regretted that he was unable to enjoy this part of the mission for longer. But work must inevitably intrude. Before he could think about that though his wife, whose name was Talya, spoke.

"I thought we were being careful," she said. Jesus examined his memories and found that they had indeed had a conversation where they had discussed using protection. They already had two children and, at the moment, were not in a position to have any more.

"I forgot," he replied, weakly.

"But we talked about this," she replied. "At great length. It's not a good time for us to be having another baby, not when we're just getting ourselves on our feet."

"I know," he said. "I just got caught up in the moment." Talya did not look impressed at his excuse.

"This is just typical of you," she said, climbing out of the bed and putting on some clothes. "You never want to take responsibility for your actions and you've always been like that!"

Jesus thought that she had no idea of the truth of that statement. He had always favoured a get-in, do-the-job, get-out approach and he had never really had to face up to the consequences of his actions. Such consequences were left to the angels to deal with. Occasionally, Jesus was consulted as to the best course of action, but otherwise he visited a world, did his thing, and got the hell out of there and onto his next assignment. He had always operated in this way and it suited his temperament. But it did leave something of a wake in his path. Talya continued.

"I just hope I don't get pregnant. That's the last thing we need right now!" And then she stormed out of the room, leaving Jesus alone and naked.

Actually, that's a distinct possibility, he thought. There was something about Jesus becoming a mortal, combined with the limited supply of divine energy that he had access to, that made him extraordinarily fertile. And one of the consequences of a visit like this one was often a significant number of his offspring arriving shortly after his mission was concluded. He actually had no idea of the total number of children that he had produced during all of his visits to these worlds. A great number, would be his guess. That was yet another thing for others to deal with and his spawn often had their own set of powers and problems. But for the moment that was not his concern. Beginning his mission was his priority and so he dressed himself and set about making a start.

A new face

Jesus was standing looking at himself in the mirror. Every time he integrated into a new host he had a period of adjustment during which his energy began to bed in and settle down. It took some time and for now he was a little uncomfortable in his skin.

He examined the face that presented itself to him in the mirror, a face that he didn't recognise staring back at him. It was a strange sensation. He was a thirty-something, good-looking man of Middle-Eastern descent. He had short, black hair and that was one of the first things he had to change. Long hair was a signature of his look and he applied a small amount of divine energy to encouraging it to grow a little quicker. It would take some time but soon enough he would look as he wanted. Otherwise he was pleased. This body should work fine for his plan. He should also have no trouble getting laid looking like this.

The next thing he would need to learn is where he was. The angels had been targeting a small area in the region of the world that he had been born into the last time he was here in, what was now called, the Middle-East. It made sense to him to begin his crusade in the same place as the last time and it was important that his look be recognisable to the indigenous population. He should look as depicted in religious imagery the world over since public recognition would be a crucial part of his plan. He now had to set about building his new following and thus begin the first phase of his plan.

Jesus left the house and set off on his quest. His ultimate target was obviously to become a religious icon around the world but everyone has to start at the bottom and that is where he would begin. It did not matter. His tried and tested method would get him there, it would just take some time, and he would immediately put his skillset and experience to use.

Jesus headed towards the nearest market. His standard method for building his following was to become a trickster in a busy place and, for now, a market would suffice. Jesus was an expert orator and cajoler of people; he had to be to get the job done. At first he would perform simple 'tricks' to gain an audience's attention. Sleights of hand and so forth. Then, once he had an audience, he would move onto his small miracles. Well, they weren't that really. They were just a conversion of matter from one form into another using the divine energy he had access to. But for those who observed the events were unexplainable and thus a miracle and therefore divine. Performing tricks like this that could otherwise not be explained was always his start point. Eventually he would move on to bigger spectacles, to convince people of his divine providence, but for now he had to spend this precious resource wisely.

Jesus entered the market, found himself a convenient corner and turned to face his, as of yet unwitting audience. In this way the son of God set about building his following, one trick at a time.

Absent father

Talya found Emir, now Jesus, in the market several days later. He had not been home since the morning he left their house and she was concerned. She had contacted all of her friends and family in an effort to locate him and finally someone informed her that he had been seen manning a stall in the market. This was very strange and, as well as being concerned, she was now furious.

As she walked into the market she could hear his voice booming even over those of the other vendors but she found that what she could hear did not sound much like her husband. She had never known him to address a crowd of people like this and so, instead of walking up to him, she held back to observe. There was a fair sized crowd gathered around his stall and she wondered what he was doing.

She watched for several moments before she came to understand. He was performing tricks and this confused Talya. Her husband was not a gregarious man and had never displayed the least bit of interest in working as a hustler. He had always been a good man if a little thoughtless at times yet, as she watched, she became even more confused. She was watching an animated, engaging and energetic person draw in a crowd and then work them in a professional manner. She had never seen him behave in this way and, as she watched, the crowd increased in size. The assembled people were also reacting animatedly, making appreciative noises, trying to figure out his tricks. After several moments there was even a round of applause.

But her husband did not appear to be taking money from those he performed for and she could not understand why he was here. His place of employment had called each morning and she had informed them that he was sick for she could not say that she did not know where he was. But she needed him to return to his job and so they had to have a conversation.

Where had this person come from, she wondered, this man who looked like, but sounded different than her husband. She needed the answer to that, and several other questions, but first she wanted to wait for the crowd to dissipate before approaching him. But the crowd was not dissipating. If anything it was growing.

Jesus knew that things were already going well. His refined act was drawing a larger and larger crowd each day and it would not be long before he could move onto the next phase of his plan. But he also knew that there were loose ends to tie up before he could do so. And one of them was standing a little distance away from his stall.

Jesus had been in this position many times but it had never gotten any easier. Whenever he was merged with a mortal being there was always a small degree of guesswork. They would select a group of people within a defined area and Jesus would become one of them. And they tried to limit the selection process to young men who are good looking and outward going. All of these factors would help him in his quest. They also always aimed to reduce the collateral damage by selecting someone with as few connections to others as possible. But in this case the fallout would be higher than he hoped. A wife had lost her husband and two children their father. That was the price that had to be paid in divine service but Jesus knew that for those paying the price it was always too high. And very hard to explain.

So now he had to have the unfortunate conversation that he always had and always hated. He turned his attention back to the crowd and to the conclusion of his act. As he reached the final flourish he received his rightful applause and bowed.

"Thank you, ladies and gentlemen," he bellowed. "My name is Emir. I'm going to take a short break but I will be back." Then he turned and walked away from the crowd towards the nearest exit from the market. He knew that Talya would follow and he wanted to be someplace a little quieter when they spoke.

Talya saw Emir finish his act, bow, and then walk off away from his stall. She didn't know if he had seen her but now that she had found him she was determined that they would speak and so she charged after him, weaving through the crowd and keeping him in her eye line. Then she rounded a corner and almost ran into him.

"Husband," she said, stepping backwards and almost falling over herself. He grabbed her hand and helped to balance her.

"Wife," he replied. She held his eye for a moment before speaking.

"Where have you been," she asked. "It's been days since I last saw you!"

"I've been here," he replied, as if that were an explanation.

"Why?" she replied. "Why have you been here and not at home with me, with your family?" And now came the part of Jesus' plan that was most difficult. The inadequate explanation for the inadvertently involved family. It didn't really matter what he said now. Nothing would be sufficient.

"Look, Talya, something has changed since I left our home. I've changed. I've found God and He's asked me to serve him." Talya didn't understand. Emir, her and their family had always been good Muslims. They had always observed their faith and traditions and there was no reason for anyone to say otherwise. But abandoning your family was not something that would be tolerated.

"You left us days ago. Where have you been staying?"

"With friends," he replied, which was better than the truth. Jesus rarely had trouble finding somewhere to sleep. At the end of his show there was usually someone, often more than one person, willing to take him home with them. He frequently left with more than one person and they all slept together. Jesus really didn't discriminate between men, women, colour, creed or anything at all. If you were willing to sleep with him, it was likely that he would be willing to sleep with you.

"You have to come home," she said. "We need you. Who will support us? What about our children? What about me? You can't just leave us!" Jesus really did hate conversations like this and each mission often required just such a talk. And it never got any easier.

"Look," he said, "I don't have a choice in this. God has called me to serve Him and I must do as He wishes."

"By performing tricks in the market?" she exclaimed. "This is His grand plan?" Jesus could see her point but he didn't want to explain everything to her. It would take too long.

"This is just the start," he said. "This is where the journey begins."

"Oh, that is such bullshit," Talya yelled. "I'm going to speak to your family about this. My husband is not going to throw his life away for the sake of becoming a market performer!" And then she stormed away, leaving him alone in the alleyway. Jesus knew that she would be back, that their discussion was not over. But he also knew that it wouldn't matter. Even if members of his family did turn up the answers he would give would be the same. And they did not have long. Soon he would be away from here and onto the next phase of his plan. Becoming a celebrity in America!

### Chapter Three

In which Jesus continues to build his following, recruits a manager and then sets off to America

The plan proceeds

Several weeks went by and things continued to go well for the son of God. He now had a considerable following that regularly returned on their lunch breaks and after work to see his show and when they left they talked about him to their friends and family and they all tried to work out how it was that he did his tricks. As his show was a mixture of tricks and 'miracles' some of them could be deciphered while others could not and this made for a far more interesting discussion. And when they asked how he did them Jesus would only say that he could not tell them, for he really could not tell them, and that was sufficient for his legend to continue to grow. He knew that he had made a good start, better than some of his missions had begun, and that he already had a platform to build on. And then came the next part of the first phase of his plan. His gospel.

Once he had built a sufficient crowd of regulars he could begin to engage with his audience, to talk to them about their lives and their families and they would listen. Getting them to listen was always a difficult, but ultimately rewarding, part of his act that could only happen once they were sufficiently engaged. And now they were listening and talking about him to their friends and families and in this way his following continued to grow.

He would also ask the people questions, for it is always good to take an interest in those who take an interest in you, and to allow them to ask questions in return, besides wanting to know how he performed his tricks. Soon he began to meet the families and friends of his new followers and to engage with them as well. And so his influence spread.

Jesus was careful in his choice of discussion topics. He had done a little research, only a little mind you, and was aware that since his last visit to the Earth the number of religions had expanded considerably and that some delicacy was required. The central religion of the region he now resided in was not the one that had directly resulted from his last visit and which had been built around him. Nevertheless, this was where he was and the audience that was here and Jesus was adept at working with what he had.

So he talked to them about their families, life and love, all common human interests, and he performed his 'miracles' and he waited. And while he waited he enjoyed himself and the things that his followers brought to him; the food and the drink and even the people themselves. For he was never short of company and there is nothing that the son of God enjoys more than company. Especially company willing to do whatever he wished them to do for they were always the best kind of follower.

Then the local media began to show an interest. Reporters with camera crews showed up to record stories about his act and his 'tricks'; him speaking and interacting with the crowd, and his ever growing following. He performed for the cameras and he talked to the reporters and word of him continued to spread. Jesus thought that the media, particularly those that conveyed their information _via_ the medium of television, was a marvellous thing and he wished it had existed when he had last visited this world. It would've made his life considerably easier. Of course his previous mission was far too early in the course of the development of this planet for that to be the case, but now humans had this technology he would use it to his advantage. He could spread the word of his gospel far and wide much more easily and far more quickly than the last time. That mission had required a lot of time and effort and many miles of walking. He had rather tired of all the walking, but things would be easier this time. He also knew there was one thing he needed if he were to proceed to the next stage: someone with the right connections.

Before long he was approached by a man claiming to manage acts like his and he and this man talked. Jesus knew that a manager was necessary if he were to access the larger audience that he needed but he also did not say yes to the first person who came along. Instead he took his time and waited for others to approach him. And eventually someone he felt he could work with appeared.

This man approached his stall one day when his set was done. He was older, a little short, and bespectacled but despite this he gave off an aura of toughness that Jesus immediately took to.

"My names Alfred," he said, extending a hand, which Jesus shook.

"Emir," he replied, smiling.

"You've got some skill," said Alfred. "How long have you been doing this?"

Still smiling Jesus said "A while."

"And what is your aim, exactly?" Jesus paused a moment before replying.

"To conquer the world," he replied, smile still in place. This time it was Alfred who paused before replying.

"Well, you're not lacking in confidence or ambition. We might be able to work together, but let's not rush it. Let's meet again and talk it over some more."

"Sounds good to me," said the son of God. Alfred handed him his card and the two agreed to meet in a few days.

And so Alfred and Jesus sat and enjoyed a pot of very strong coffee. Alfred explained that he was a Westerner currently visiting Istanbul, which was where Jesus had discovered he was living, but that most of his work took place in America. Jesus knew that to access the audience he was really after, the worldwide one, he would have to go there and that he needed someone like Alfred, a man with the right contacts to make it happen.

Jesus also found that he liked him much more than any of the others he had talked to. He was more amiable and far less slimy and they got on well from the start. Jesus suspected that Alfred's toughness would also come in handy, that this skill had probably helped him during his long career managing those in show business. Actually, it was probably essential.

After much discussion, and many beverages, Jesus agreed to be represented by this man and expressed his desire to take his act to America at the earliest opportunity. Alfred was both amused and surprised to hear this. He thought that it was good to have ambition but a trickster from Turkey, was not the easiest sell for the American talk show circuit. Despite that, Alfred thought that Emir had potential and that it was worth them developing their relationship and seeing what happened.

Over the course of their conversation Jesus came to understand that there was much ground to be covered before he would be making the appearances that he wanted to. Alfred explained that first he would need to take his act on the road where he was with the intention of attracting the attention of the national television stations, both here and in neighbouring countries. If he were successful enough and he managed to fill venues of sufficient size then he may be considered for a slot on one of the shows he wished to appear on. But the competition was fierce and even were he to become famous in this region of the world there was no guarantee that this would be sufficient for the international market. Jesus was left in little doubt that he had some way to go but also that there was nothing to be done but get on with it and try. So that is what he would do.

Back on tour

So Jesus began a tour first of the region in which he was living with the aim of then touring the nation. He started in small halls where a few people who had heard from those who had already seen his act congregated to see him perform. Alfred arranged for a small publicity campaign to run alongside this and as the weeks and months went by the halls began to fill and Jesus began to pack out ever larger venues. Soon he was pulling in massive crowds and filling enormous spaces and he knew that he was succeeding. He began to visit larger cities and then the cities of the neighbouring countries. He was quickly becoming something of a celebrity in the Middle-East and his name was quickly known far and wide as people started to come from further afield to see him.

The day that Jesus saw his face on a large billboard was a good day. He stood, taking in the image, and admiring the way in which humans now communicated between themselves. Alfred had informed him that these posters would be going out, but he had not expected to see one during his time here. He thought he would be on his was to America when they went up but it seemed that this phase of his plan was taking a little longer than he'd anticipated. Oh, well, he thought, he wasn't really in a rush and things were still quicker than the last time. If he was working in the way he had to back then this mission would have taken years, probably decades to complete and he was grateful that was not the case.

Jesus stood and admired the image on the billboard for a few moments longer before heading to the venue for his next gig. He also had one other thought as he did so and that was this: his image being plastered all about town wouldn't hurt his chances of getting laid either.

Several months passed with Jesus on the road doing 'his thing' and at the end of his tour he returned to Istanbul. Jesus had been hoping for some good news as he was now getting a little bored of running the same show night in night out. He was even bored of delivering sermons as he quickly burned through the same material but such was the life of those on the road. For each new audience was a chance to reach a roomful of people who had never seen him speak before and to increase the spread of his influence. So he muddled on and made the best of what he had in the hope that his big break was just around the corner.

He was even bored of the constant fan attention. Not that it wasn't fun, he enjoyed their willingness and pliability, but eventually he tired of even them. His fans were so demanding and he needed a break, a change of pace and he was hoping that was what his manager would offer him.

Things were going well, he knew that, and this thought kept him going. Now he wanted to know that it was good enough to springboard to the next phase of the plan. Following his sold-out gigs Alfred had arranged a number of appearances on local television shows that had resulted in invites to appear on national shows. And they had gone well but they were still small for Jesus' plans. As ever though there was the waiting and Jesus was not keen on the waiting. Patience was not his strong suit.

Alfred had even set him up with a website and a Twitter account and there was nothing more fun than spending a few hours arguing with idiots online. Especially when you actually were the son of God. Not that they took his word for it, but that was also part of the fun. It didn't seem to matter how much information he presented them with, they never seemed to change their mind. They seemed to think that they already had all of the information they required to make an informed decision and that they were the most knowledgeable beings on the planet. They weren't, they were morons who, despite being unwilling to change their minds, were fun to argue with.

After a few hours of arguing with, and inevitably blocking, a significant percentage of the planet's population, Jesus tired of this activity and found that it had not made him feel any better. He moped around his hotel room for a while, feeling fed up. He wanted to move on, to know that his crusade was progressing. He wanted to be able to head back to the Heavenly Realm having succeeded and to bask in the glory of his victory. After all, that really was the point of this entire enterprise, wasn't it? Why else would he even be here except for the inevitable glory that would follow. Jesus switched on the television to waste the remaining time until his manager returned.

Have you heard the good news?

Eventually, after many more hours of watching nonsense, there was a knock on the door. He opened it to find Alfred standing in the corridor. He invited the man in and offered him a beverage which was declined. Instead he got straight to it.

"Good news," he said, immediately assuaging Jesus' concerns. "We got it, an invite to a US late night show." Jesus smiled. He was on his way. He immediately went to the fridge to retrieve the bottle of bubbly that he had sitting awaiting this news and promptly popped the cork. Some kind soul had given the bottle to him and he was grateful for their generosity. He began pouring a couple of glasses when Alfred spoke.

"Not for me, thanks," he said. Jesus nearly overfilled the glass so great was his surprise.

"You what?" he asked. "You don't want one? But you must, we're celebrating!"

"Not for me," Alfred repeated. "I don't drink." Jesus was truly stunned. This was not something he had ever encountered before, not since he had arrived or when he was last here. Everyone he knew enjoyed drinking, especially those around him. He attracted those kinds of people.

"Why?" he asked.

"Sorry?" said Alfred. "You want to know why I don't drink?"

"Yes," Jesus replied. "Yes, please." He really did want to know as this concept was baffling to him.

"Look, it's not really your business," Fred replied calmly. "You're my client, not my friend." Wow, thought Jesus. And here was I thinking I might be a bit of both and that this trip might be fun. Guess it'll all be work then.

"I'm just curious," Jesus said, hoping to get an answer and understand without having to push too hard.

"Wait, aren't you Muslim?" Fred asked. "So why do you drink?"

"Sorta," Jesus replied. "I was recently but I'm not anymore. But that's me and I really am curious as to why you don't drink." Fred sighed, clearly uncomfortable but aware that this issue probably wouldn't just go away. In their short time as manager and act Emir had already proven himself to be remarkably stubborn and belligerent and if they were to continue to work together then he thought it might be better to just confront this issue head on.

"I'm an alcoholic," Fred said. Jesus looked confused. "You don't know what that is, do you?" Jesus continued to look confused. "Look, I don't drink because I really like alcohol." Well, that made absolutely no sense to Jesus. He positively adored alcohol, as he did most pleasures of the flesh, and couldn't possibly see how that could be a bad thing. OK, so hangovers weren't much fun but that was simply the price you paid for having fun. And there was always another drink to help.

"I don't drink because of what happens when I do," Fred continued. "I drink more until that's all I do." That sounded just fine to Jesus but then he always had people around him willing to help with whatever he needed, such was his life. "And I'm not a nice person when I'm drinking." Jesus didn't really understand this either. Drinking made him a much nicer person and most who knew him sober preferred him drunk.

"OK, look, this is all besides the point. We leave for America in the morning, I've booked us two seats on a flight to Chicago and I need you to meet me downstairs in the lobby early. You need to be on time. Do I need to send someone to fetch you?" Jesus shook his head. But Alfred was aware of the man's apparent inability to be on time for anything.

"We can't miss our flight so you really do have to be there," Alfred repeated. Jesus nodded, finishing his glass of bubbly and pouring himself another. Now that the bottle was open and, as they would soon be leaving, there was nothing to do except drink the lot. It would be a shame to waste it, after all.

"OK, tomorrow morning, 8am. Downstairs in the lobby," Alfred said.

"I'll be there," said Jesus taking another long swig of his beverage. Alfred looked unconvinced but then Jesus had had many lifetimes convincing people that he would meet his obligations when he often knew that he would not. Actually, this time he would. He wanted to be out of here and onto the next phase of the plan and so he would be on time. "I'll be there," he repeated, hoping to reassure his manager and, he hoped, friend.

"OK, right," said Alfred. "See you tomorrow." And then he was gone, leaving Jesus alone with the bottle. Actually, there was one thing he needed to do before he left Istanbul. There was one person he needed to see before he left and he knew their conversation would not be easy but it had to be done. Jesus finished his glass of bubbly and then headed out the door to conclude one last item of business.

A painful farewell

Jesus knocked on the door of the house in which Emir used to live. His wife answered the door and for several moments neither said anything. Then Talya spoke.

"Are you here to come home?" she asked. He shook his head.

"No," he said. "I am not. I am here to say goodbye." Talya could not stop a sob from escaping her lips. She nodded.

"Somehow I knew that." There was another long pause and a tear ran down her cheek. Jesus wanted to comfort her but wasn't sure that he should. Finally, Talya spoke again.

"You are not my husband anymore, are you?" she asked.

"No, I'm not," he replied. Jesus wondered how she had figured that out.

"That's what I thought. My husband could never do what I have seen you do. He couldn't stand in front of a crowd and perform, he wouldn't know how. The very idea would send him into a panic. So, I guess my question is this: who are you?"

"Well, that's complicated. I'm still your husband, but I'm also not. I'm sorry, but I can't really say anymore, the rules don't allow it." Talya looked confused and Jesus was worried that she might push him for an explanation that he really couldn't give. Because what it amounted to was that her husband had been possessed even if it was by the son of God. "Look," he continued, "I came here to tell you that I'm leaving. The act is going well, I've now got a manager and I've been on tour." Talya laughed softly. Clearly the thought of her husband on tour amused her.

"What are you, a rock star now?" Not yet, thought Jesus. But I will be soon.

"And the tour went well enough that I am now leaving for America." This time she did not laugh. She simply stared. "All I can say is that, if you watch the news you will eventually learn the truth about me. Everyone will learn the truth. At this point I can't say more. But you will understand some day." For the first time in a while Jesus wished that he actually could say more. This woman, and their children, deserved more than this.

"Don't you want to say goodbye to your children," she asked, sadness in her eyes.

"They're not my children," he replied. "They were once but they're not anymore." And with that Jesus walked away from his former house. Before he was out of earshot he heard Talya sobbing and, for the first time in a long time, Jesus felt sorrow.

As Jesus returned to his hotel room he realised he was more disturbed than usual by the farewell. He had had many such partings and they were usually just as sorrowful as this one was but they rarely affected him. This one had and he didn't know why. Maybe he had finally gotten tired of his life constantly on the road, always on the move, never putting down roots. Even when he arrived on a world like this one he was often on the move. And when his assignment ended, he would be back to the Heavenly Realm and then off on another assignment with little time in between to gather his thoughts or process what had happened.

He had been 'doing his thing' for a very, very long time and so maybe a vacation _would_ be in order. Maybe he needed a change of pace, to do something different for a while. But then Jesus wasn't very good at relaxing. He rapidly became bored and restless and quickly wanted to get back to work. But he might be approaching a point where something would have to change. If it didn't he might snap and that would be worse, he thought. Yeah, maybe a vacation was in order. The only question would be where.

He would have to think about it at a later date but thinking about stuff wasn't really his strongest suit so maybe he should seek some advice. Normally he simply knew what to do, what the correct path was, and that would be what he did. This unsettling feeling would have to sit for a while until he had the time to ponder it more carefully. For now he had a mission and a plan and that made him happy. The rest would have to wait.

Jesus flies to America

Jesus was actually on time when he met Alfred in the hotel lobby and they rode together to the airport. They checked in, passed though security without incident and then boarded the flight. They took their seats next to each other and, as the plane began to accelerate for takeoff, Alfred leaned over to speak to Jesus.

"There's a few things we need to go over before your appearances," he said. Jesus knew that Alfred had managed to book him in for several shows but he did not yet know the details, nor did he want to know until they were imminent. He was not the kind to plan things too far in advance or at all if possible.

"Can we talk about this later?" he asked. "I'm kinda tired." Jesus tried and failed to fake a yawn but Alfred was used to dealing with celebrities of all shapes and sizes and his latest client was not even his most difficult.

"Look," he said more sharply, "these shows are not like the local, or even the national, ones that you've been doing. Not that you haven't been doing great, but these require some preparation and some handling." Jesus was not amused by the suggestion that he could not handle a TV appearance. He was a seasoned performer and nothing was too difficult for him. But then this man didn't know any of this. Sometimes Jesus wished that the rules the angels imposed weren't so restrictive. It would be far easier if he were able to just tell everyone of his divine providence rather than having to pretend he was just a normal human. In his opinion he made a rather fabulous human, and the number of people he managed to sleep with in the average week seemed to confirm his theory, yet missions like these would be so much easier if he could just tell everyone who he was. Unfortunately, there was nothing to be done about the current guidelines except work within them.

"OK," he said to Alfred. "Tell me what I need to know." And so Alfred laid it all out, he explained all the rules that the shows imposed, what he could and could not say and Jesus wondered how in the hell he would be able to actually achieve anything under these circumstances. But he would find a way, he always did.

At that moment an airline stewardess walked past and Jesus raised his hand to get her attention. He asked for alcohol because what he needed at this precise moment was lots and lots of alcohol. And then continued to listen, as patiently as he could, to Alfred explaining the intricacies of his appearances. A short while later he made a decision: to hell with it all! He would follow these rules only as long as they suited him and, if things were not working, he would do things the way he always had. His way and with style!

The steward arrived with his drink, Jesus pushed his seat back and continued to half-listen to his agent blather on about rules and regulations. Jesus knew that eventually Alfred would conclude his instructions but for now he would listen, well sort of, and learn what he could. And he would drink for that always helped to pass the time.

Eventually Alfred finished talking and Jesus ordered another drink, having had several already. He needed them to deal with all the crap that seemed to come with a TV appearance in the US. Going on shows in Turkey had been much easier, but he was now an outsider from a country in the Middle-East, hardly America's favourite region at this current moment in time. Actually, Jesus had been informed that America's relationship with countries in that region had always been difficult. From the Iraq war to the overthrow of the Shah. And don't forget the complex relationship they have with Saudi Arabia. Or Iran. Or any of them, for that matter.

Now that Jesus thought about it he realised he should probably have done his research a little more carefully and been reborn in that country. That would've made things considerably easier. But then being reborn in the region of the world where you had first arrived had seemed sensible to him. Surely, that would be best way to be recognised and for people to connect you with the person that you were the last time you were here? Not being able to just come out and tell people who he was frustrated him more than he expected that it would.

Jesus had been in similar scenarios many times during his long career but he had always found a way around them. That was one of his strengths and also part of 'his thing' but he still longed for the days when his father was in charge and all of the rules and regulations were much simpler. He settled back into his chair to enjoy the silence and however much more alcohol he could get during the remainder of the flight.

Sometime later the plane landed and Jesus and Alfred disembarked and headed towards customs. Jesus was now quite drunk and required careful handling by his agent. Shepherding him through customs was a tricky affair but Alfred succeeded and soon enough they were through the airport and into a waiting taxi. Alfred steered his drunk charge to their hotel, checked them in and guided Jesus to his room where he opened the door and shoved him inside. Then he closed the door behind him and opened the door to his own room. He was very tired and wanted to collapse into his bed and be free of his troublesome client for a few hours. As he hit the bed he thought he heard the sound of a body hitting the floor in the room next door.

Bugger, he though, this guy's starting to be more trouble than he's worth. But for now he was committed and, until this current tour was over, here they were. Alfred would get Emir through this batch of interviews and then he would reassess whether their relationship would continue or whether he would decide to pass this man onto someone else, someone with more patience than he, and let them deal with him. It would be a shame but some partnerships only lasted so long and Alfred had the feeling that theirs would not be a life-long relationship. He would be proven wrong in due course.

An update for God

God was sitting in his office when the phone rang. He knew it would be Sandy, He had been told to expect the call, but still He was a little nervous. He often got this way when it came to missions that His son was undertaking. There really was no need to worry about as experienced an operator as His son but a parent would always worry. He just hoped that His request that Sandy help Jesus could be kept secret from His very perceptive 'son'. God picked up the receiver.

"Hello," He said.

"Jesus knows I'm helping him under your orders." Well, there went that particular fantasy.  
"Balls," He said. Since returning from Earth He had been trying not to swear around the angels, knowing the effect that it had on them. Consequently, He had been searching for words that wouldn't offend and 'balls', 'chump' and 'twonk' had now all been added to His lexicon. Actually, He found that all of these words were rather enjoyable to use and even confused those around Him. Most had been supplied by Sandy himself and the angel found that he too was amused by this change.

"It was one of the first things he said to me when he arrived so I think he expected it," said the angel. "It's probably not anything to worry about." In which case I shall try not to worry about it, God thought.

"Besides that, how's he doing?" God asked, concerned. He realised that He was holding his breath in anticipation.

"Surprisingly well," Sandy replied. "He has applied himself with vigour and began to build his following in record time. The relatively advanced stage of human technological advancement has aided him."

"Yes, his progress on world's like Earth is always faster than on less developed planets," God replied.

"I think it also helps that he's been here before," said the angel, "and that he seems to like and understand the humans quite well." God could empathise; He too liked the humans more than He should, He just couldn't help Himself. Something about them appealed to him. Their belligerence maybe?

"And how much fallout do you think there will be from this mission?" God asked. Sandy knew what He was asking about.

Though a successful operator, Jesus' missions always carried consequences in the shape of all of the children that resulted from the impressive amount of sex that he managed to enjoy between the time that he arrived on each world and when he moved on to the next.

"About the normal amount, so far," Sandy replied. "We're keeping track of those who come into his orbit and attempting to determine who is affected and who is not." Sandy was not much looking forward to dealing with this particular side-effect but a short mission like this one should thankfully result in a smaller number of offspring. Nevertheless the angel would be in for a busy couple of decades after this.

Those whom Jesus had fathered might also inherit some of his ability to harness divine energy and, depending upon the exact genetic makeup of the individual, could result in someone being able to perform impressive 'miracles'. These individuals could be dangerous, if not given careful instruction, and keeping track of them was crucial.

"OK, good," God said. "I'm glad to hear he's doing well." And He really was. God felt pride in his son's good actions. Obviously less so in the actions to which he did not really want to know about, but it was better to be aware and be able to deal with the consequences than ignoring them. "Thank you for the call, Sandy. As ever I appreciate all that you are doing."

"It's my pleasure, my Lord," the angel replied and then the phone went dead.

God replaced the receiver and then buzzed his secretary. The young angel's head appeared in the doorway with a quizzical look. "Could you bring me another pot of tea, please?" God asked. "I think I'm going to need it." The angel smiled and nodded before disappearing from view. God returned to his paperwork, once again glad of the friendship he had with the angel in whose hands he entrusted not only Earth, but also the relationship that he had with his son.

A fact finding operation

The demon was sitting in his brightly lit, plush executive suite, flicking between the many screens that showed him most of the important news and current affairs shows that were currently airing. At the end of his last mission to this world, when he had been tasked with stopping God's mission by any means necessary and had employed a priest to assassinate God's mortal form, he had been unceremoniously returned to the Heavenly Realms by the angel Sandalphon and incarcerated by the Heavenly Armed Services. Fortunately, that had not lasted long.

In the fall out of God's spat with his former 'voice', and in an act of magnanimity, the demon, along with several others, had been released and pardoned. After all he was only following orders, he couldn't help it that he had thoroughly enjoyed doing the job he had been given. And God decided to forgive him, fool that He was. Then, jobless and purposeless, the demon had returned to Earth to relax. He had done so and then he decided not to leave, to set up business here and to enjoy all the pleasures that this world could offer on a more long-term basis.

Currently he was sipping one of the finest whiskies that had ever been made by humans. The screens in front of him gave him an overview of the important issues of the day, as well as those whose stars seemed to be on the rise and those who were well and truly into their decline. Fame was not something that interested him, his work was facilitated by remaining in the shadows, where he had always been and the matters that he attended to were far too important to be left to those who cared about the whims of others. It was better to be egoless when you did what he did.

What he did exactly was somewhat vague and he liked it that way. He fixed problems for the television networks, whichever was willing to pay his fees, whether that was silencing someone who claimed they had been sexually abused, destroying a career in revenge for some perceived slight, or bringing down a rival simply for the fun of, it the demon helped all and sundry. He didn't truly care about the motivation or the right or wrongs provided that his client could pay.

Though he had only been in this business for a short time, he had already built an impressive portfolio of contacts. Who hated who, who was sleeping with whom, the most likely outcome of each and every battle that was waged in this business. He already had dossiers compiled on at least ninety of the one hundred most important people in this line of work, which were stashed away for the day that either he needed them or someone else was willing to meet the cost of them, which was set exorbitantly high. Such was the price of doing business with him and employing his network of minions that gathered the data.

Today a new file had landed on his desk. A great number of such cases were given to him daily and some of his minions were employed to sort the worthwhile from the rest. This one had been flagged as potentially very lucrative. A man from Turkey, an Emir Khan, had begun a career in show business in the Middle-East and now he was on his way to the US to attempt to do the same here, a tricky prospect even without outside interference.

This file requested the use of his services to gather information on this man, the things he did and said while in this country, and anything that might be useful in bringing about the end of his career, were he to begin to engage in any activities that his client disliked. Given the client, said causes would most likely be of the progressive kind.

The demon took a sip of the excellent whisky and read the file in its entirety. He didn't see any reason not to take the job but it always amused him how many clients employed his agency to go after progressive causes. It also amused him how many of these so called 'progressives' provided such a wealth of easily accessible information. Affairs with younger staff, imprudent financial arrangements, sexual assaults, the list was long and detailed. If these people were supposed to be interested in the welfare of others, why were so many of them such lecherous creeps? He found it surprising but then he also didn't really care. A job was a job.

He refilled his glass and then summoned one of his most senior minions to pass the file onto him. They would then arrange for someone to track this man, Emir, and gather the necessary data before a review by the demon himself and then the completion of the job. The man who was definitely not a man smiled. Business was good and that, for him, was really all that mattered.

### Chapter Four

In which Jesus' appears on TV, enjoys a fling, and then his journey takes an unexpected twist

His audience awaits!

Jesus was sitting in the green room waiting to be collected. Appearing on an American TV show was even more complicated than he had expected and considerable time and effort had been spent prepping him. He had been primped and preened and now he barely recognised himself in the mirror. He was smartly dressed, his hair had been styled and he was wearing a suit. Jesus couldn't remember the last time he had worn anything other than a robe or slacks, for he liked to be as comfortable as possible, but it seemed that this was necessary. It all put him a little on edge, which was the last place he wanted to be, and he felt unsettled by the ordeal. He took a breath and slowly released it, trying to calm himself. This appearance was too important to screw up simply because he wasn't dressed as he would like to be.

Jesus had also had some preparation in how to deal with the US media, most of which he had promptly forgotten. He had dealt with species, and their representatives, on countless worlds in all the cosmos and he doubted that there was much more that he could learn. Actually, he suspected that he could teach them a great deal more about this matter than they could him and that he should be the one giving the instructions. But that path was not him for he preferred to do and not to teach for Jesus truly liked to experience things. All that he could, really.

He was annoyed that he did not have top billing on the show. He was currently third down the list below an awful female pop singer and an actor in some crappy new romantic comedy that he had seen the terrible trailers for. Actually, it was more like the trailers had screamed at him than he had chosen to watch them and Jesus had resolved not to see that movie, though he knew that he should enjoy more of the things that Earth had to offer before returning to the Heavenly Realm. Earth had some truly unique culture, cuisine and peoples and Jesus planned to get his fill before he departed.

Jesus knew that matters such his billing on the show shouldn't trouble him, especially given his wealth of experience, and he also knew that he had to earn said higher ranking. That was why he was here after all, to gain publicity, increase his acumen and raise his profile. And the only way to do this was to actually take those lower billing slots, impress the audience and those at home, and keep building his following.

Still, having to begin the process again on each world he visited was frustrating. Here on Earth he did have some advantages though. Both he and his father had previously visited this world and that could work this to his advantage. He just needed to wait for the opportunity and seize it and that was something that the son of God was very good at doing.

Eventually, a young girl appeared and asked for his name. He told her and she checked him against the clipboard she was holding.

"Good," she said. "They're almost ready for you. Would you come with me, please?" Jesus stood and followed the young lady through the winding corridors, around equipment and other people who were clearly in a rush and into the bright lights and heat of the studio. They walked alongside a raised platform upon which were sat the audience and onto to the stage area where He was met by the presenter, a remarkably attractive lady who stepped forward and offered her hand. He took it in his and smiled warmly.

"Hello," Jesus said speaking carefully and clearly. "Emir Khan."

"Hi," she said, vigorously pumping his hand. "Pleasure to meet you," she said, sounding sincere. "I'm Jackie."

"Yes, I know," he replied. Jesus did indeed know who she was. The show had her name after all and he had watched a few episodes prior to his appearance so that he was at least slightly aware of what type of show it was that he was appearing on and of the format. Besides, it was not like watching TV was really research and the rest could be left to his considerable experience.

"Glad to have you here," she said. Jesus smiled.

"It's a pleasure to be here," he said. He held her hand a second longer than she expected and he caught a look of surprise in her eyes. He felt that a moment had passed between them, a moment that neither had been expecting, but nevertheless had happened. An exciting moment filled with suggestion and promise.

"Why don't you take your seat over there," she said gesturing to the seat opposite her position of power. "We're back on in thirty seconds." Jesus did as he was asked and, as the presenter listened to those who were speaking to her through her earphone, he took in his surroundings. He was in a sea of light, surrounded by an audience of sycophants and technology and he was surprised that he actually felt quite comfortable. Things may have changed on Earth since his last visit but an awful lot had also stayed the same. The people were still as easily manipulated as they ever were, provided that they understood who was the shepherd and who were the sheep. As Jesus relaxed, his host turned to face a camera above which a red light had flickered to life and began speaking into the device.

"Welcome back to the show," Jackie said to the camera. "Our first guest this evening has travelled far to be with us today," Jesus smiled and thought that she had no idea. "His name is Emir Khan and he has made something of a name for himself as a magician in his home country of Turkey. And now he's aiming to take his show to the world stage. So, Mr. Khan, how are you finding New York?" Jesus nodded. Again, he paused before answering enjoying the awkward silence that followed. He saw a panicked look cross his host's face and someone out of the field of the camera but not of his vision who was frantically waving at him.

"It's an interesting place," he finally replied. "Lots of bright colours and lights. Not at all like my home." If only the audience could see the contrast between Heaven and here, he thought, they'd really be surprised.

"They tell me you started your show on a market stall. Is that true?"

"I did," he replied. "Although I've now become well known all over the Middle-East. I just finished a tour through half a dozen different countries. Turkey, Greece, Iran and Iraq, and several others."

"And I'm also told that you are something of an orator, and that you are spreading your own teachings?"

"Yes, I am, but I don't think we really have time for that now, do we?" She smiled, and he knew that he had swerved a trap.

"Right," she said. "Moving on, so you have now brought your show to the US and you'll be on tour here?"

"I have and I will be, yes," Jesus replied. "I had been reworking my act for a Western audience for a while now and I finally decided that the only way forward would be to let people actually see it." There was a small ripple of amusement that passed around the audience. "I'm hoping that people will like it. Speaking of that, would you like to see a trick?" he asked.

Jesus knew that this was the clincher, that he needed Jackie to say yes and then he had to do something that would impress the audience. But he was also aware that this was the first line that he was not supposed to cross. Despite that he would be doing so. Jackie paused a moment before nodding and saying that she would. Clearly she was shaken by his veering from the script but she was also a professional who could roll with it.

The angels would also no doubt be aware of his appearance for they would surely be watching him and observing all that he was up to and they would quickly notice what he was going to do. They would also probably not like it and might even decide to talk to him about this, but he could see no other way to move forward, nor any reason not to. And he had never been one to do the things that he should when he could do those that he should not.

Jesus stood and addressed the audience. He asked for a volunteer and someone came forward. Then he produced an egg from within his garments. He could not see this, but Jackie threw her head of security a look that said 'how in the hell did he get that through security.' The security head shrugged. He did not know this but Jesus had not had the egg on his person a few seconds before he produced it.

He handed the egg to his volunteer and asked them to confirm that it was a simple egg and nothing more which they did as best they could. Then he thanked the volunteer who returned to his seat and Jesus held the egg up for all to see, including the cameras that he knew were recording this performance. Then he began.

Really, the trick was a simple matter of converting the matter of the object he held into another form using the divine energy that he had access to. It required the use of more of this energy than anything he had done so far but the potential benefits far outweighed the risks, he thought. He held the egg up for all to see and then he enveloped it within his hands.

And then he paused, allowing the dramatic tension to build. He opened his hands to reveal a little chick, which dutifully cheeped for the crowd. They applauded this amusing trick but then, before the applause died, Jesus placed his hands together and suddenly he was holding a fully formed dove which he released into the air. The audience gasped appreciatively, genuinely surprised by this turn of events. They began whispering among themselves but again before the atmosphere could dissipate Jesus played his next hand. The dove had settled on a nearby chair and he rushed forward, plucking the bird from its perch. Suddenly, the dove was a blackbird which he again released into the air, eliciting a further round of applause. As manipulations went, converting one avian form into another was simple but nevertheless effective, and the hubbub from the crowd continued to increase in volume.

When the bird had again been retrieved, Jesus pulled his final trick. With a click of his fingers, the blackbird vanished, and the crowd gasped. Everyone watching would assume that this was a trick, which it was, just not the one that the audience thought that it was. Jesus had actually converted the bird into its constituent molecules which he had then dissipated in a literal puff of smoke. So the bird was gone and no one would be finding any trace of it.

The act concluded, Jesus received a vigorous round of applause from the audience, and from the host as well, and he took a bow with good grace. He knew that there would be much speculating about how this act had been achieved and this was crucial for increasing his appeal and his audience. There were many smiles in his immediate vicinity and he knew that everyone here would remember him and his performance. He was also sure that the footage of the trick would be endlessly analysed searching for the source of the magic, which they would not find. And for the bird too which they also would not find.

He could also see that his host was smiling, an intriguing and genuinely warm smile, and Jesus wondered whether he should pursue this. Of course he should, he thought, what would be the reason not to?

So he took a bow, thanked the volunteer, and returned to his seat. As he did so he was grinning. He was making progress and more than that, he was having fun. He found that he was actually glad to be back on the Earth, among the humans. They truly were different than almost every other species he spent time with and he liked them. Of course, accomplishing his mission was the priority but why should he not enjoy himself while here? He deserved it and, as he took his seat, his host held his gaze for several moments longer, before then turning to face the camera and going to commercial. She then turned back to look at him some more.

Jesus was then required to sit through the interviews of the following two, far less interesting acts, before the show was finally over. His slot had been just a few minutes, but he knew that those few minutes had made an impression on his audience and those whose attention he needed if he were to get to an even bigger stage. When the show concluded Jesus stood to shake the hand of the presenter.

"Thank you so much for coming," she said, holding his hand. And there it was again, the suggestion of something more. He wasn't imagining it and again he wondered if it was wise to pursue this. Just as he was about to commit to doing so she leaned forward and whispered in his ear something suggestive. Yup, Jesus was enjoying his time on Earth and he saw no reason for that to change anytime soon.

Another perspective

Alfred was sitting watching Jesus' appearance and there was no doubt that he was impressed. This young man who, only a few months ago was performing to a crowd of a few hundred in a market place, was now building a much bigger platform and Alfred knew how hard a thing that was to do, how difficult the climb from obscurity to worldwide fame was and how precarious every step of the way could be.

He also recognised talent when he saw it and Alfred had been surprised when Emir had claimed that he had only been performing for a short time. He would've sworn that he was watching a seasoned professional, someone who could control a crowd or an interview expertly to achieve their aim, whatever that might be. And for now the young man's aim seemed to be to gain as large an audience as he could and that was just fine with Alfred. If he began his preaching while in the states then they would have a more serious issue to deal with. American's weren't too keen on those from the Middle-East preaching to them at this present time.

He also had no idea how the young man performed the tricks that he did. Alfred had seen all manner of acts over the years and most times he could figure out how they were done. Sometimes he could not and, on occasion, he had asked for the solution and he was usually disappointed by the answer. This time he was entirely stumped.

He would have to see if Emir was willing to explain the act. He suspected he would not be, most likely wanting to keep his secrets and Alfred didn't blame him. Actually, he should probably leave it as a mystery, to maintain the magic, but it was always fun to guess. Not being able to figure it out only added to the allure as did the unwillingness of the performer to explain.

Alfred was again pleased to have discovered the talents of this particular young man and that he had chosen to offer him representation, and maybe their relationship would last longer than he expected. He suspected that Emir could indeed go far and he thought that bigger things were likely in Emir's future. Maybe he should try to remain this young man's representative. On the other hand, Emir might benefit from someone more willing to put up with his eccentricities but then they were all eccentric, weren't they, those who spent their lives in the public domain. That was Alfred's experience anyway.

For now, all he and his young ward had to do was keep going and try not to screw it up. He knew that one mistake could easily end his career before it had really begun and Alfred needed to shepherd this young man through the coming months. Were his rise to continue then he would surely need his help coping with the changes that were to come and for now, Alfred was still the one helping to steer this particular ship onwards.

Not the intended audience

The trick was indeed noticed in the angel's station. The use of divine energy in a setting that would be seen by a considerable audience was dangerous indeed and the event was logged and recorded and the information added to the stack that was being collated on Jesus' activities. It was already quite a substantial list. Eventually this report would find its way back to Sandalphon who would need to report back to God as to how His son was progressing. He would also want to carefully decide on how much of this information would be passed along though he knew that he would be betraying the trust that the deity had placed in him should he withhold anything crucial.

But what parent wanted to know all that their children got up to after all? The angel had certainly been put in a tricky position by Jesus' visit. God would likely not want the whole truth as to His son actions but He would want to know how things were proceeding. Quite well it seemed.

At some point the angel would have to decide where the line was as to what was acceptable and what was not and this was made harder by the previous acts of the deity Himself on this world. How could Sandalphon chastise Jesus for doing what his father had also done? Consequently the son would be able to get away with far more than he otherwise could have done. Sandy knew that they were both trying to fix a difficult situation but did they have to make his life more difficult?

The angel wondered what it was about this particular world and situation that mattered so much when there was so much else going on in the cosmos that required their attention. But then it was not his place to worry about such things that was for those who were higher-up to decide.

No, his immediate concern was the matter of how much damage Jesus could be allowed to inflict before he was required to step in and, at least, offer his advice. He was the caretaker of Earth, after all, and it was his duty to protect this world. But for now all that was required of him was to monitor the situation, take his time and mull it over. There was no rush, after all, not unless Jesus did something truly idiotic and spectacular. While that was certainly a possibility, he was also a seasoned operative with an impressive record so things could go either way really. And Sandalphon could do nothing but wait. He asked his secretary to bring him a strong coffee and proceeded to fill out the paperwork that endlessly filled his days.

The next step

Jesus and Alfred left the studio together and walked the short distance back to their hotel.

"You did well," Alfred said, as they strolled through the streets. Jesus smiled. "And your trick was also impressive, better than I expected. Now we wait and see what happens. But I don't think it will take long. We should be on our way again pretty soon."

"That's good," said the son of God. "I'm glad." And Jesus found that he really was. For some reason, possibly his perceived rivalry with his dad, he really did want to succeed here. Maybe he just liked the humans and wanted to actually help them change direction. They entered the hotel lobby and took the elevator to their floor and then exited and walked the short distance to their respective rooms.

"Any plans for the rest of the day?" Alfred asked.

"Not currently, no," Jesus replied.

"Well, get some rest. If things go our way you'll need it." Alfred disappeared inside his room.

Jesus entered his own room and sat on the bed. He didn't know what to do now and waiting to see what happened next wasn't his favourite activity. He paced around the room, checked that he had enough alcohol to get him through and then switched on the TV to while away the time. A short while later there was a knock on the door. He wondered who it could be. He didn't think that Alfred would be bothering him again unless he had good news to convey and so he moved to open it quickly. It wasn't Alfred, nor anyone that he was expecting to see, yet he found that he was pleased by the presence of his guest.

This should make the next few hours far more pleasant, he thought, as he invited them in.

The following morning Alfred knocked on the door to Jesus' room. He then stood and waited, knowing that his charge would take his time answering the door for the young man seemed unable to be on time for anything or seemingly do anything quickly. As expected, he was kept waiting several minutes before the door eventually opened and a groggy Emir emerged from the darkness.

"I have news," he said. "Good news." Alfred then paused because Emir had not closed the door to his hotel room and he could see a little into the darkness. And what he could see concerned him. There was a woman lying in the bed and Alfred could see enough of her to suspect that she might be naked. He also had the strong suspicion that he knew who she was.

"Is that...Jackie?" he asked. Jesus smiled as way of reply.

"Yeah, it is," he said, grinning. "She showed up yesterday afternoon. I thought there were sparks between us during the interview, but I hadn't been expecting that."

"Shit," said Alfred. He was already somewhat aware of his young charge's tendencies during his tour of the Middle-East and had, so far, ignored them. He was also aware of Jackie's own proclivities but he hadn't thought it necessary to spell them out to Emir. It was not his duty to tell this young man what he could and could not do, who he could and could not sleep with. Except in this case when what he had done was profoundly stupid.

"You're an idiot!" he said, loudly. Jesus was stunned. He was not used to being spoken to in this manner, especially by a mere mortal, even one who's help he needed, and he wanted to respond in kind. But he kept his temper, at least until he could figure out whether or not he was in the wrong and actually an idiot.

"Did I do something wrong," he asked, trying not to get upset. "I didn't think this would be a problem, it never has been before."

"That's Jackie, right? The woman whose show you were on yesterday, yes?" Emir nodded. "And now she's lying naked in your bed!" Again, Emir nodded. "If you wanted to continue your, so far, pretty rapid rise to stardom, then sleeping with someone as well known in the business as her for sleeping around, with any young man who'll have her, was not a smart move!" Alfred was angry and he knew that he had every right to be. But he was also partly to blame for this situation and he knew that was part of the reason that he was so angry.

He had seen Emir flirting with Jackie on the set yesterday but it never occurred to him that she might turn up here and throw herself at his charge. "Look," Alfred continued, "this is going to take some dealing with. I need some time to think so don't go anywhere and don't do anything until I say so." Jesus nodded and watched as Alfred paced back and forth for a few, long moments.

For the first time in a while, Jesus wondered whether he had actually made a mistake that could not be easily fixed. Usually, whenever he made mistakes there was someone on hand to fix it for him. But now he seemed to be on his own, besides his agent, and his problems were his to fix alone.

"Look, eventually this is going to come out," said Alfred, once he had gathered his thoughts. "Let's just hope that it won't matter by that point because this could stop you dead in your tracks if it's leaked now. I'll do what I can to prevent that from happening but there's only so much I can do and the reality is that this _is_ going to come out." Alfred paused for a moment and looked at his charge. Emir looked decidedly forlorn and also very young. Alfred kept forgetting how young the man was compared to the way in which he seemed to behave and the agent realised that his charge may need more help than he had initially thought. He decided to change tack.

"Look, I actually came here to give you some good news," he said. "You made one hell of an impression yesterday, kid, and it worked. People are talking about your appearance, you're a social media hit! Your trick has already been viewed an incredible number of times and now we can move on." Alfred paused before continuing, enjoying being able to deliver some good news. "You're going up kid, you got an invite to one of the shows we talked about. Second billing!" Jesus wanted to yell but decided against it in this contained space. He also didn't want to wake his still sleeping guest.

"Really?" he asked his manager.

"Really!" Alfred replied. Jesus felt genuinely pleased by this news. He wasn't sure why but this was starting to feel unlike any other mission. Maybe it _was_ unlike any other mission, maybe it never had been. But he didn't want to think about that right now for it would only increase the pressure he already felt and he didn't want that.

"Thank you," he said to Alfred, wanting to express his genuine gratitude for what this man had already done for him. He stepped forward and hugged him, surprising a man who was very rarely surprised. They embraced and quickly released and Alfred then returned to his room. Jesus did the same, remembering that Jackie was still naked in his bed.

Oh, well, the damage is already done, he thought. No sense in wasting the opportunity. And he shed his clothes, rejoining her in the bed. As she roused from her sleep, he found that he was aroused and so he began to grope her. Maybe he would kick her out when he was done. Maybe not.

The price of fame

A few hours later, Jackie and Jesus decided to leave the hotel room in search of sustenance. Well, Jackie wanted to leave the room, Jesus was less sure as Alfred had not yet come back to him with any news or any change of plans. But it had been hours, Jesus was sure that he must be fine to leave by now and Jackie was insistent. He was also bored and hungry and she didn't want to order room service and so they headed to a restaurant that she liked a short distance away. There seemed little he could do but make the most of it. Jesus also desperately needed to be out of this room and so they left the hotel. Jesus decided not to worry about it, as he so often did.

They strolled down the wide, Manhattan streets, towards the restaurant that Jackie liked, enjoying the sunshine. And then something strange began to happen. People began to notice them as they walked past. Then they began to approach and demand things from them. Like photographs and autographs and the worst thing was that they weren't asking Jesus for these things; they were asking Jackie. Jesus was used to being the centre of attention, the star, yet most of these people had no idea who he was. Some of them did, but most weren't interested in someone whose star was on the rise but had not yet hit the stratosphere. They wanted to see the person who had already arrived and so he was largely ignored as Jackie graciously posed for photos and signed the things that were presented to her.

Some asked for photos of the two of them, for they were aware that the he had been on her show yesterday, but even this frustrated him greatly. It was clear from the attention she was receiving that she was the star and that he was not really recognised. Yet, he also knew that this attention was a good sign for it would help his celebrity to grow.

But, as the throng around them grew, Jesus could feel his mood souring. He was worried that he should've followed Alfred's instructions and remained in his hotel room. There was nothing that he could now do except grin and bear it and smile as his mood worsened. He needed to bring this to a close as soon as he could, so he tried to grab Jackie's hand and pull her away, which only intensified the sounds of camera's snapping. She didn't really want to leave, she was enjoying the attention, but eventually he persuaded her that they should actually go for lunch.

They reached the restaurant and were given a table but Jesus couldn't relax all through the meal. He still felt eyes on him and was struggling to cope with it. He was used to this state of affairs, it was where he lived, yet this felt different. It might've been the presence of the devices that he had been informed allowed these people to instantly upload the images that they took, and even the videos they recorded, to the nebulous thing called the 'internet'. Or was it the 'cloud'? Jesus wasn't sure, but he didn't like it, nor the way in which it facilitated obnoxious behaviour in those around him. He grumbled his way through lunch, while Jackie chatted and enjoyed herself, and then, eventually, they returned to his hotel room. His mood, however, did not lift, despite Jackie's attempts to cheer him up.

A few hours later Jesus was sitting in his hotel room, alone. This was an unusual place for the son of God to be but since Jackie had departed he really didn't feel like company. She had left when it became obvious that his mood was not going to improve, when he was unable to pick himself back up.

"Look, it's been fun," she said, half-way out the door. "And we both got what we needed out of it. Your star will continue to rise and I get a day's worth of fame to keep me where I am. Plus, the sex was good too," she added that as an afterthought.

At that point Jesus finally realised that he had been used. She had used him to promote herself. And for sex. He found that he didn't like it. Well he had enjoyed the sex, but he wasn't used to this. It was what he did to people, not the other way around. He was the son of God, humanoids and angels came running to him to bask in his glory and the price of said basking was doing whatever Jesus wanted. They didn't turn up, use him, and then leave. It wasn't fair, it wasn't right, even if he did get what he needed out of it. And the sex.

After she left, Jesus sat in his hotel room, unable to do anything. He didn't even want a drink and he couldn't remember the last time that was the case. Maybe sometime during his mission on the Ankathy home world, home of a species who enjoyed alcohol and fornication even more than he did, and he truly hadn't thought that possible. And so he sat wallowing in his misery wondering what, if anything there was that he could do to improve his situation. Or if something was going to come along and make things worse. He came to the conclusion that there was nothing he could do, that the situation would sort itself out as it always did, and that he just had to trust to Fate, a good personal friend of his, to iron out all these little kinks. His record was far too good and he was much too accomplished for this to be a problem in the long run. It will all be alright in the end, he thought, it always is.

Jesus could not have been more wrong and things were about to get much, much worse.

Eventually, after much wallowing, there was a knock at his door. It was Alfred again and, from his expression, he had clearly found out what Jesus had done. He entered the room without saying a word and stood in silence, presumably gathering his thoughts. Jesus decided to wait for the man to speak which he eventually did. It seemed to be the safest course of action.

"Why did you go out?" Alfred finally asked, visibly trying to control his temper. "When I specifically told you to stay put, why did you go out?" Jesus felt terrible, which was made worse because he didn't have an answer for him, not one that would satisfy.

"We were hungry," he replied, weakly.

"Then order bloody room service!" Alfred yelled. Jesus flinched. He hadn't been spoken to in this manner since the last time his dad and he had fought, many years ago, before God was deposed. He took a moment to compose himself, before continuing.

"She wanted to go for a walk," Jesus added uncertainly. "And I needed to get out of this room." Alfred cooled a little at this. His ward _had_ been cooped up in this room for a while and so he didn't actually blame him. He could also see that the trip out had likely been Jackie's idea with Emir just going along with the woman who had seduced him. Jackie had a reputation for doing things exactly like this: for being seen with young, rising talents that helped her to keep her photographs in the tabloid rags and her position as a star. And, of course, rumours had always circulated as to exactly how far these relationships went and whether or not she actually seduced these young men, and sometimes women. Now Alfred knew.

"Look, what's done is done, I'll manage the fallout from this as best as I can. Your upcoming tour is still on, but the TV appearance is off. I spoke to them and they decided that being splashed all over the tabloids didn't sit well with them and they're going with someone else." Alfred paused for an awkward moment. "Also, your ethnicity may have something to do with it. Sorry but that's how it is. I'll get you started on your tour and then we're done," he concluded.

Jesus was stunned and didn't reply, couldn't reply, had no clue what to say. He had been on a rapid rise and now he was not, all over some silly fling with someone he didn't even like that much. And now he had lost his one friend in this adventure.

"I've brought you this far but I wasn't sure I could in the long-run," Alfred continued. "Now I know that I can't, you need someone who can manage your," he paused, searching for the right words, "eccentricities better than I can. Someone who understands how to use social media better than I do and who can use days like this one to your benefit. I'm sorry but that's not me."

Jesus again found himself without words. He was actually, genuinely saddened by this turn of events. He didn't want a new manager, he wanted Alfred to be that person. He wanted to have not gone out for lunch with Jackie, to have stayed in this room for as long as was necessary until he was told that he could leave. But he hadn't done any of these things and now it was too late.

"Please don't," Jesus said. "I don't want another manager, I want you." Alfred was touched, actually genuinely touched. He really felt for this kid, out of his depth, struggling to make his mark in this celebrity obsessed world. But his decision was made and he knew it was for the best, at least in the long-run.

"Look, I know some guys who'd be good for you; I'll make some calls and ask them to get in touch."

"Thank you," said the son of God. And then there seemed to be nothing left to say. Instead Jesus stood, gave his former manager another long hug, and then held the door as Alfred walked through it and out of his life.

The cost of pride

After Alfred had left, Jesus turned on the TV again and found a station that mostly covered celebrity news topics with the occasion news story to provide 'balance'. A story about one of the stars who had appeared on the same show as him on was followed by a political story, and with a recent election there were an awful lot of stories like this right now, before the show segued into one about his relationship with Jackie. He had only been half paying attention but suddenly he was seeing his face on the show and he listened intently as he searched around for the remote control before turning up the volume.

"And it seems that Jackie has gone out and gotten herself a new beau," said the presenter, while pictures flashed in the background showing her and Emir posing for photographs and signing autographs.

"She doesn't wait long, does she?" asked her co-presenter, jokingly. "She always seemed to have some young stud or other on her arm, eh?" The presenter was grinning ear-to-ear, a false smile of enjoyment on his face. "Today she was seen with someone who recently appeared as a guest on her show, a man who goes by the name Emir Khan, a magician from Turkey." The camera angle changed slightly, back towards his co-host, who picked up the story.

"He is rather dashing, isn't he?" she said, also grinning from ear-to-ear. "Jackie always seems to find such nice young talent!" The presenter continued talking, yet Jesus had tuned out. Humans actually give a shit about this nonsense? He thought. They care about who TV celebrities are supposedly dating? Why would they do this? What is it to them? Are their lives so shallow?

Jesus continued to half-watch the broadcast while the presenters relayed the so-called "facts" about his and Jackie's "relationship". There was no such thing so he had to think of it in those terms, quotation marks and all. For the first time since his arrival Jesus began to wonder whether he needed more help with this mission, more guidance than he had sought to date. But he was not yet desperate enough to consider asking for help for that was not his way. He was the son of God, a seasoned operative with the best success record in the Heavenly Realm. So he would not yet ask for the help that he so clearly needed. But, as they say, pride comes before a fall as Jesus would learn to his detriment.

### Chapter Five

In which Jesus goes on the road, again, the son of God answers some awkward questions, and then gets an unexpected visitor

Stumblin' along

And so Jesus began his tour of venues and locations throughout America, starting in New York and then heading out across the country, this time without the support of his manager. It was his standard act that combined trickery, a little divine energy, and proselytising but he quickly found the crowds in this land to be a much harder prospect than the ones he had first met shortly after arriving back at Earth. The Americans were much less easily impressed; they were used to Hollywood blockbuster movies and his relatively low-key tricks and preaching act did not go down with them as well as he hoped.

In theory he could try to explain to them that the up close tricks were the good ones, the ones that required practise and expertise whereas what they saw in movies and big productions were relatively simple manipulations and digital trickery, that the real skill lay in the physical. But what was the point? They didn't seem to want to listen to what he had to say.

Even his big finale, the tricks that used divine energy and transformed one thing into another, the one's that could not be explained by local phenomena and so were nothing less than miracles to the local populace, didn't go down as well as they should have. Yes, people assumed that there was some skill and trickery involved, as there certainly was, but once they were unable to even perceive of how the trick was achieved they rapidly lost interest. Rather than dwelling on it, playing it over in their minds and trying to figure it out, they simply became annoyed before moving through frustration to not giving a shit and then gave up. He was surprised by how rapidly that transition took place and wondered if there was any way around it. Probably not, given the belligerent temperament and short attention span of his average audience here, he thought.

As for attempting to build a following in America, well he might as well not have bothered. They weren't interested; he clearly didn't fit the required mould. It didn't seem to matter than he was preaching similar teachings to what they were already being told, he was a man of Middle-Eastern descent and it was rapidly becoming clear that this was a problem. It didn't matter that it had made sense for him to look this way as this was how he had looked on his last visit. For some reason it wasn't working and he just couldn't connect with his audience. Surely, they must associate my look with the historical figure of Jesus, he thought, unable to comprehend what the issue was. Then, when he was passing a church in the town he was in he chose to take a tour and immediately he could see the problem.

He looked up to see an image of himself staring benevolently down. But there had been some significant revisions in his absence, the most notable of which was that the colour of his skin had changed. Jesus stared at the beautified vision of himself for a while, curious as to how the artists had arrived at this picture. He had been born into a region of the world where skin tones where naturally darker and during a time when both dentistry and hair care products were less than easily available, so this work merely struck him as silly. He wondered why people would believe in something so obviously fake but at least it helped to explain why his act wasn't working as well as he would like. He didn't look as the people thought that he should and that was a significant problem.

A late night news show on the WOLF news network further filled in the blanks for him. He watched a report about the continuing deterioration of several countries in the Middle-East, a region of the world named more literally than most, and began to understand his mistake. An internet search filled in more of the blanks and involved an historic terrorist attack, a disastrous invasion and many ongoing crises that could be easily solved through the pursuit of less dangerous energy sources. No wonder the Americans were not enjoying his show as much as they otherwise would, he thought. But there was little he could do about it now; he could hardly change his skin tone overnight without losing the precarious fame that he had so far gathered.

Not for the first time, Jesus realised that he probably should've done the leg work before beginning this far-more-complicated-than-expected assignment. But then he was an 'accomplished operator', as he so often liked to remind those around him, and he had never yet failed to achieve his objectives. Actually, that wasn't true, he had failed once or twice, it just wasn't common knowledge. His failures had been 'hushed up' by the Heavenly Armed Services and he was less than keen to tell people where he had gone wrong so that side of his legacy was poorly understood.

There had been the mission to Cytals III where things had gone so catastrophically wrong that the world had to be quarantined for the next thousand years. And on the Hurgth home world he had incited the worst world war the Heavenly Armed Services had ever seen. He had been sorry about that, it was all down to a simple misunderstanding, and he had wanted to return to the world to correct his mistake. But he had been told, by Metatron himself, that his presence there would only make things worse and was promptly shipped off to his next assignment. This had happened on several occasions and was another legacy of his that, along with the many offspring that he left behind on each world, few other than those in power would ever know the truth about.

But in the here and now there was little that he could do except carry on as he was, as he usually did. He had his plan and his mission and his, admittedly smaller than he liked, following. And he was sure that something would come up, someone would come along sooner or later and help him. That was the way it always worked for the son of God. Well, mostly it did. Almost certainly something would happen, he was pretty sure. For now he would carry on with what he had, hoping that the help that he needed would arrive soon, and then he could leave with yet another mission accomplished. It was either that or leave and forget the whole thing and he wasn't ready to do that just yet.

Questions for the son of God

Weeks went by with Jesus on the road and soon enough he found that he was again enjoying himself. He liked being around people, or biological entities anyway, and currently he was in Chicago. He was also in one of the surroundings in which he most liked to be: sitting in a warm room surrounded by his faithful followers. He had eaten and drunk a considerable amount and then there had been an orgy and he had been pleasured by many of these people, too many to count. And everyone had been satisfied and now they were all lying, in varied state of undress, together in the post-orgasmic haze. There were also drugs of every flavour scattered around the room and Jesus wondered how many of these humans would even remember what had occurred her. Not many, he suspected, which allowed him to be more truthful than he usually could be. Jesus was happy and relaxed and so he did what he always did when he found himself where he now was. He took questions from those who wanted to ask them.

In this situation, surrounded by these people, he was freer to talk about who he actually was, safe in the knowledge that most here probably wouldn't remember what he said and if they did they likely wouldn't believe him anyway. Anything he said would largely be put down to the consumption of alcohol or drugs or both. So he had told them who he was, who he really was, and then allowed them to ask whatever they liked.

He had been asked about his life and what he did and he had explained. He had talked about his dad, the angels and the organisation that he worked for. He had described the ridiculous bureaucracy that Heaven had become as well as the type of angels who ran it. This had lead on to a discussion about the different types of angels: the bureaucrats and their rules; the angels that made up the Heavenly Armed Services who were sent to pacify worlds and bring them to heel; and the others who were less easy to categorise.

There were some who were inventors and scientists, others who devised new ways to use divine energy and many more who were difficult to describe. Most still worked for Heaven in some way or other and towards the common good of Running the Universe but there were others who had either slipped through the net or, intentionally removed themselves from the framework under which the angels worked. Jesus actually liked these beings, the ones who refused to conform and decided on their own course of action rather than accepting His plan. Even in Heaven there were those that chose to dissent rather than accede, the most famous of them being Lucifer, though he was now again a part of the bureaucracy of Heaven. Even the most ardent rebel would one day return to the cause, thought the son of God.

"OK, next question," he said to the room around him. Nobody seemed to be in a rush to jump on the chance so he took a sip of the rather lovely Malbec that some kind soul had brought along and waited, enjoying the atmosphere in the room.

"So, what's it like being the Son of God?" someone suddenly asked. "Must be pretty great, right?" Jesus had been unable to discern who this question had come from and that unsettled him. He didn't answer immediately, taking his time to work out what the question meant. Having then considered the question, he actually wasn't quite sure what the answer really was.

"Why would you say that?" he finally asked, answering a question with a question, the strategy of those wishing to avoid committing themselves.

"Well, I mean God's your dad. God is literally your biological father and that must be pretty great," said the unknown person.

"That's not quite right," he replied. "There's not actually a lot of biology involved. Me, the angels, we're all made up, at least in part, of divine matter, in my case combined with a little of God's essence." No one around him seemed to be getting it so he decided to cut his losses. "It's complicated." He had little desire to explain the mechanics of how he and the angels were actually made and the similarities and differences between the two. "As to your question, yes, I suppose it is pretty great," Jesus finally replied, unconvincingly.

"You suppose it is?" came the reply, still from an unidentified source. "You don't sound that sure. Look, it either is or it isn't, but how can being the son of God be a bad thing." Jesus wanted to reply, he wanted to explain that every mission required his death, often in undeniably brutal ways, but he knew that if he started he might not stop. Once he began telling his followers what his life was actually like, what each visit to each world entailed, then they might see him differently. He might even see himself differently and he wasn't sure that he was ready for that yet.

"And you must have a great life, if God is your dad, right?" the voice continued. "That must open a lot of doors..." The voice trailed off leaving Jesus thinking about this point. Sure, God being his dad had helped him out, there was no doubt about that. But he himself had opened a great many of the doors that had benefited him. And that was rarely recognised by anyone except his father. Suddenly Jesus was wondering how much of his success was actually his and how much was simply down to his lineage. He felt unsettled and he didn't like it. And then he felt anger rising in his chest.

"Look," he said, a little aggressively, "my work stands on its own, right. My father hasn't had a direct hand in what I do in a long time and my successes are my own!" The room remained silent allowing Jesus more time to stew. Suddenly, more than anything, Jesus did not want to be here. He wanted to be anywhere other than the room in which he was standing. He felt his temperature rising, felt that he was trapped and he desperately needed some air. He stood, grabbed his hotel room key and his sandals, and charged out of the room, down to the reception and out into the streets. He didn't know where he was going, he just needed to walk, and so he picked a direction at random and set off.

A walk in the city

Jesus walked the streets of Chicago, taking it all in, and it was a lot to take in. As he wandered around he found himself comparing the state of the world to the way it had been when he was last here. There was no doubt that a lot had indeed changed and in a relatively short space of time in the life of species like the humans. He was strolling between enormous constructions of concrete and glass, and colour and neon lighting was everywhere. There were also an incredible number of people on the streets around him and Jesus marvelled at the ability of a species like this one to make an impressive number of copies of themselves in such a relatively short period of time.

But he found the environment itself to be stifling, all those artificial constructs made him long for the time when the world, or at least the world in which the humans lived, was greener and more natural. It wasn't that he didn't like all these 'modern conveniences', things which didn't actually seem to make life more convenient, it was just that he liked to be as close to nature as he could and currently he felt about as far from that environment as it was possible to be. That unnerved him and put him on edge. Nature was refreshing and this environment was the opposite, whatever that was. Stressing? Draining? One of those, probably, he thought.

He stopped to get a coffee, a modern convenience that he actually did like and was definitely enjoying during his time here, and then as he took a seat to enjoy his beverage, he could feel someone watching him. He scanned around the room and found the culprit. There was a large, white man sitting in the corner of the room staring at him. He was wearing a checked shirt and a baseball cap that read "Make America Great Again." Jesus hadn't seen this particular slogan but he wondered exactly what it meant. Hadn't America always been a pretty good place to live in which to live, he wondered. Didn't it have some of the wealthiest people on the planet, along with excellent levels of most indicators of success? Education, health, life expectancy and so forth. That was what he had been told in the pamphlet he had been handed on the flight over. So what exactly was there to make great again?

Jesus smiled at the man, who did not smile back, and decided to take his coffee to go, setting out onto the city streets in his attempt to settle himself down. He strolled along, taking in the sights, enjoying the smells and finally starting to feel like maybe this city wasn't such a bad place, that he could cope with being here for a while. At least until he could return to a more rural setting that was.

Jesus ambled along the streets, enjoying himself and his coffee, not paying that much attention to his surroundings, certainly not enough to notice that he was leaving the centre of the city behind and wandering into some of its less salubrious areas. He rarely had to worry about his own safety, being as he was of Divine Providence and consequently under the protection of the angels on most occasions. But this was not one of those times. Sandy had said that help would come if needed, but that they would not always have eyes on him. After all, they had plenty to be doing and they couldn't spare the manpower. Or angel-power.

Suddenly, he felt a shadow looming over him from behind and strong hands upon his shoulders.

"Hey, hey!" he yelled, "What are you doing?" He was hustled him into a nearby alley, a fist was flung into his stomach and all the air in his body departed. He fell to the floor, struggling to breath and a foot was swung into his solar plexus. He felt the impact and wanted to yell out but he still wasn't able to breathe. He lay on the ground, waiting for his body to respond to his urgent demands to take a breath. Finally, the pain subsided enough for him to inhale and then let out as loud a scream as he could manage with the exhale.

Looking back on this event later, Jesus may have been ashamed to discover that the scream he released was rather feminine in pitch but at the time he couldn't care less. He just wanted this ordeal to be over and for help to arrive.

He was roughly lifted from the floor and held in an upright position. He craned his neck up to see a somewhat familiar face. Well, a hat he recognised, anyway. It had a slogan on it that he had seen before and he turned to face the chubby man from the coffee shop. That was who was assaulting him, him and two of his large friends.

"What do you want?" Jesus mumbled.

"Our country back," the man glibly replied.

"You mean you don't own your country now?" Jesus asked. The succinct reply was another fist into his guts and he spent the next few moments again struggling to breath. When he could finally do so again, his head was lifted to face the man with the hat.

"We want people like you offa our land," the man said, inches from Jesus' face. "We want jobs for 'Mericans that we lost to the Chinese. We want..."

"You want to go and talk to your politicians, is what you want," said Jesus, cheerfully. He immediately regretted it and he was thrown to the floor and the men set about kicking him at length. Jesus wondered whether his mission was going to end here, whether these men would kill him right now and he would be returning to the Heavenly Realm much more quickly than expected. Then, just when he thought it was all over, he heard a loud voice over the sound of his beating.

"Hey!" said the voice, "what the hell are you doing!" Jesus listened as the men quickly decided that they had done enough damage and that they should withdraw and leave him to his fate. It seemed that they did not want to be arrested for their crimes; they wanted to be free to inflict this on some other poor soul of non-American descent. Jesus struggled to retain consciousness as a new face appeared above him.

"Are you OK?" the face asked. Jesus simply stuck his hand in the air with his thumb out. "You don't look so good, I should get you to a doctor." Jesus felt hands pull him off the floor and he was helped to his feet. "Then we should speak to the police, they're gonna want to know what happened to you." Oh, fun, thought the son of God. I love speaking to those in authority!

An unexpected guest

Jesus received medical attention for the injuries the thugs had inflicted on him and then was made to wait to speak to the police for an unjustifiably long time. But they weren't really that interested in what he had to say and once they had his statement they quickly released him.

He returned to his hotel, desperate for the safety that he would find there, for the sanctity that the room provided. He wondered how close he had come to being more seriously hurt, killed even, in his scuffle and he really didn't want to die yet, not before he decided it was time and most certainly not at the hands of some ignorant hillbillies who would probably have declared him their saviour under different circumstances.

Jesus was starting to wonder whether this mission was actually impossible. He had been following the news and he knew of the recent election, the name of the man who had gotten into power and that these men doubtlessly supported and had likely voted for. Jesus wondered whether they were representative of the people that he needed to reach with his message were he to save the humans from themselves and thought that, if that were the case, then the reason why his dad failed to reach them now became clear: humans were stupid, there could be no other explanation. But right now he just wanted a hot bath to sooth his battered body.

As soon as he entered the room, he could feel that something was wrong, something was out of place. There was a presence that was familiar and that he was sure he had felt recently and he didn't know who was stalking him or why, he just wanted it to stop.

"Look, I'm having a bad day and I really don't need any more trouble," Jesus said. "Whoever you are, step forward so I can see you." There was a moment where Jesus wondered whether the person had somehow slipped out of a back room that he had been previously unaware of but then they spoke again.

"OK, I'll come out," said a voice like treacle. There was yet another long moment where Jesus wondered whether the man, if that was even what he was, had again pulled a vanishing act, before a shadow at the back of the room moved and seemed to coalesce into the shape of a man who then stepped into the light allowing the son of God to see him for the first time.

The person who stepped forward out of the shadows surprised Jesus but then he had known the angel for a long time, not that they actually knew each other that well, they didn't. Lucifer had long run hell and Jesus had been doing 'his thing' during most of that time. So there had been little chance to chat.

"What are you doing here?" Jesus asked in a weary tone. Lucifer, Satan, the Morningstar, the Lightbringer, grinned warmly and wide.

"Isn't it obvious?" replied the angel. "I came to help," he replied, in his deep, ridiculously sexy baritone voice. "And, right now, it seems like you need it." The angel then took a moment to examine Jesus. "Are you OK?" he asked. "You don't look so hot," he said, gesturing to Jesus's injuries.

"I'm not having the best of days," replied the son of God. "So what do you actually want?"

"Look, I was in the neighbourhood, watching events unfold, and I thought I'd swing by. I thought you'd appreciate seeing a friendly face." The grin that stretched from ear-to-ear indicated the Lucifer was enjoying himself immensely.

"But why were you in the neighbourhood?" asked the son of God. "Don't you have duties to attend to like being on The Committee and running hell?" Lucifer's smile remained in place.

"The Committee only takes up so much of my time," he replied, "and I have excellent underlings who take care of the running of Hell. Leaving me free to pursue other matters that take my interest."

"So, you really are here to help me?" Jesus asked in a tone of voice that suggested that he thought this unlikely.

"I'm here to see if there's anything that I can do to help the Heavenly Realm get this world back on course," Lucifer replied, almost answering the question. Jesus wondered if that was the closest anyone ever got to a straight answer from this being. "So I suppose that I am at your service, if that is what you want." He bowed to demonstrate his sincerity but Jesus thought that what it really did was show the opposite, as if he was mocking Jesus with this gesture alone.

Jesus remained unconvinced but then he was all out of options at this current time and, despite all that he knew about the Morningstar he found that he liked him, that he enjoyed time spent in his presence, despite the knowledge that good rarely came from a visit by him. But he knew that he probably did someone's help were he to succeed in his mission here on Earth. Yes, it was quite a quandary.

Before he answered, Jesus thought about Lucifer and the relationship that they had never quite had. He could not remember ever having been very interested in this angel; as long as he kept himself out of the son of God's business, which he did, then he wasn't a problem and Jesus didn't really care. But now here he was, offering his help, and the son of God wasn't sure whether that was a good or a bad thing.

"So, how is it that you can help me?" he asked, trying to figure out where things stood.

"I have contacts on this world, and on most of the others, and I can offer my services as a promoter. As for the specifics, well, you'll have to wait and see. Once you say yes that is." Jesus knew that this was the best answer he would get without committing to accepting the angel's help and whatever cost would doubtless be incurred. "But then have you even asked why _you're_ even here?" Lucifer added. "I mean the real reason, not this bullshit excuse that you've used as your justification."

The angel had a smile on his face that worried Jesus, and that made him feel like he was missing something, like he was being left out of a big secret. He often felt that way, being as he was not the brightest spark in the Heavenly Realm, but seeing Lucifer with this particular look was unsettling.

"I..." said Jesus. He paused for a moment to consider the question. "I'm here to succeed where my father failed." The angel sighed, loudly.

"That's what you're telling everyone else," Lucifer said with that smile still on his face. "But is it really what you're telling yourself?" Jesus took a moment before answering.

"No," he replied. "It's not." Lucifer began to clap. Slowly.

"Finally," he said. "We get to the truth, to the heart of the matter. So, _do_ you even know why you're here?" Jesus shook his head. "You're lost," the angel said. "You've been lost for a very long time and you're trying to find yourself. That's why you came to this world. I've been observing you for some time and that's what I see. A lost soul. And lost souls are something of a speciality of mine." An expression passed across Jesus' face that began at confusion, moved through startling comprehension towards frustrated annoyance.

"You were there, weren't you!" Jesus said. "You were in the room when someone was talking to me, asking me bloody annoying questions! That was you!" Lucifer didn't reply, merely nodded to indicate his appreciation for Jesus' reasoning skills. "So I'll ask you again, why are you really here?"

"Well, I wouldn't go so far as to say that I go where I'm needed, for that would be truly specious, but I do sometimes hear of a need and I may find myself willing to lend my assistance. Since Metatron's fall, and what a dreadful shame that was, and my appointment to The Committee I've been forced to go legit. You see I supplied Metatron with good, reliable information through my network of agents and demons and now I have all of this data and nothing to do with it. Your father seems uninterested or even unaware; maybe He'd rather not rely on the methods I use. But then again I wonder how He could possibly be so naive. So I thought I'd come to you and see if you were any more interested than He is."

"OK, so that's what you want. What is it that you are offering, exactly?" Jesus asked, still feeling like he was catching up on the conversation.

"In the here and now my services on Earth. My contacts and leverage can help you to achieve your aims. I think I should be your new manager." Lucifer said. Wow, thought Jesus. Is this really happening? Is the Lord of Hell actually offering his help? And should I tell someone about this? Sandy, maybe? No, let's see what happens first, he decided.

"Why would you want to do that?" Jesus asked, buying himself the time he needed to process this information.

"As I said, to be useful. To gain new allies. To be of service." Lucifer concluded. "And in the long term, who knows where it might lead..."

"So, you want a relationship in the future? That's what you are after? Besides being my manager, I mean. But you're already on The Committee, aren't you?"

"One of my talents is predicting the future, Jesus," said the angel. "And I foresee tumultuous times, not only here on Earth when the humans finally wake up to what they are doing to their own world, but back in the Heavenly Realm. God reclaiming His Kingdom has upset a lot of interests who worked very hard to get to where they are. God's return jeopardises all of that and so I foresee conflict down the road. I am trying to position myself for that upcoming conflict."

"OK, OK," said the son of God. "But you can help me with my current situation, right?" Jesus asked.

"I can. You've hit a wall," Lucifer said, "and you know it." Jesus did indeed know it. Since losing Alfred, things had taken a decided turn for the worse and the son of God did not know how to correct his course. "Yet with my help, you can turn it around, you can win, and then you can return to Heaven with your mission accomplished. I will have gained an ally in a prominent position of power and you can put all the information that I have been gathering to good use."

Jesus thought about it for a moment. He pondered the proposition and the potential ramifications. And then he thought, what the hell, I've run out of other ideas.

"OK," he said. "You're my new manager. You help me to reach the audience I need here and we'll see about the rest down the line." He stepped forward and offered the angel his hand, which Lucifer then shook. The deal was done, Jesus had a manager again.

"I already have a team ready to go, I'll get them started and before you know it, you'll be headed back towards the top." Jesus smiled, grateful that things were again going his way and that his mission had taken a turn for the better as he had hoped it would. As Lucifer departed, he was grateful that the son of God had not been blessed with an abundance of intelligence for everyone knew that a deal struck with the likes of him only ever worked out in the favour of one party: himself.

Back on his way to the top

And so, with Lucifer's help, Jesus' rise began again and he started to make appearances on bigger shows with larger and larger audiences. Jesus then began to be recognised walking on the street, something that both delighted and worried him. He continued to ask Alfred to find him a new manager to replace his necessary, but troublesome new manager, but none of them could meet his demands and so Lucifer remained in place. Jesus knew that a bill would eventually be forthcoming for this little arrangement, but there was little he could do about it for now. No one else was as good as Alfred and Jesus regretted losing that man's services daily.

His following also continued to grow, as did his Twitter followers count, both expanding daily, but along with the increased levels of fame, came an increasing amount of abuse. It was a full time job fielding all of the nasty comments that came his way and, after a short time roundly rebutting what was being said and even laughing at it, Jesus decided that he'd had enough and passed the account over to someone on Lucifer's team. They could deal with it, he thought, this never ending tirade of bile.

Then Jesus began to get more abuse when he was out and about. He first noticed the problem when he was sitting in yet another coffee shop in yet another small town where he would soon be appearing in the local venue. More people wearing those same stupid hats began to appear and more abuse was thrown at him. At first he laughed it off but as the problem continued to escalate, he knew that he needed help. Lucifer suggested hiring a bodyguard but he wasn't yet ready to do that just yet. He was very much a man of the people and that was where he intended to stay, at least for now. But the problem continued to grow and would eventually have to be dealt with.

Jesus kept plugging away at his mission, doing his performances in bigger venues, appearing on more shows, building his audience and, once again, he could feel that it was happening, that he was succeeding and that he might even retain his impressive record. OK, so he had required the services of Lucifer, but that didn't matter so much. It was still him giving the shows, making the appearances and it was still his face on the billboards. And that was what mattered, he thought. That and saving the world, which he still thought was possible. He knew that his big break was now approaching and there was just one thing that he had to do before that came: prepare himself.

Unfortunately, that was not one of his strengths, but he would do so for accomplishing the mission was now more important to him than avoiding doing the work and there was little he could do but get on with the task at hand. And that was what he would, despite how tedious it would be.

The results, as expected, are interesting

The demon smiled as he read through the dossier that his team of minions had assembled. It was indeed excellent and contained all that his client could have wanted included details on Emir's many activities. Besides appearing on stage, doing tricks and talking to his audience, these included sleeping with more 'followers' than his minions could track down, imbibing more alcohol each day than was healthy and the consumption of an impressive amount of drugs. His client would be very happy, he knew, this information should prove very useful.

He prepared the dossier, and the considerable bill, as well as a personal email to the client who was a friend and sent them. As he did so he wondered, and not for the first time, where he knew the man from? He was more familiar than he should be and the demon found that it niggled that he could not place him.

He again wondered what someone like Emir was doing seeking fame while at the same time enjoying every earthly pleasure that it was possible to enjoy and not doing these things in a private environment. Shouldn't those seeking to change the world keep themselves, or at least the public perception of them, as clean as possible. Were you able to get yourself into said position, and you were looking to advance worthwhile causes, then wouldn't that would be small price to pay? Otherwise they were just making themselves a target and setting the cause back. People like him, paid enough, would always hunt out and find every secret they had and they and the cause they were supporting would be damaged. The demon smiled. Well, at least when people were this stupid his work was easy and very profitable, he thought.

He decided to investigate a little further, to see if he could scratch the itch that was bothering him. He began to watch all of the supplementary material that the minion had provided; videos of interviews that Emir had given in his homeland, reports on his behaviour and so forth. As he watched the man perform and talk he found the information that he was looking for in his memory. He was watching the son of God, Jesus Christ himself, come to Earth and reborn in the body of a native. To those from the Heavenly Realm, or below, it was obvious who he was, all the signs were there. He was also excellent at what he did, the demon was truly impressed. Yes, watching the son's career come to a crashing end would be a truly delightful experience.

He decided then that he would ask his client when and where this information would likely be used and that he would see if he could attend the event. It was always nice to take a personal interest in cases like this, it made his life and his work far more interesting, and he had a long standing desire to see all those who worked for the Heavenly Armed Services suffer. It came with the territory of being a demon and being created for all the things that demons were made to do. He couldn't help it really and that was the point. Besides, it was all simply too much fun to not enjoy. Watching the downfall of the son, who had doubtless been sent here to attempt to succeed where He Himself had failed, would also be thoroughly entertaining and he looked forward to it.

### Chapter Six

In which Jesus finally does the reading, things go dramatically wrong, the son of God has a really good mope and then decides to find some fresh help

The work that needs doing

Despite everything that had happened to detract from the experience, especially losing Alfred as his manager and the increasing number of run-ins with aggressive humans, soon enough Jesus had done it. With Lucifer's help, he had successfully leveraged his tour and his appearances on smaller shows into something bigger and now he would be appearing on one of the biggest shows that there were. And he couldn't wait!

Now he had a few days in which he could prepare for the interview and so he returned to the Earth station to actually do the work that he had been putting off doing. He was spectacularly good at avoiding doing actual work and yet somehow still succeeding and even his father sometimes wondered how he did this. Cramming at the last moment was his speciality and that was to what he turned his attention now.

He entered his room and stopped and stared at the stack of paperwork sitting awaiting his arrival. The angels had amassing this stack to provide him with all the information that he needed for his visit and he had been ignoring it since he got here. But now the time was here and he knew it. He now needed to know what it was that he was trying to change, what his objectives, besides fame and glory, actually were. Why he was there, that was the key question. So, he picked up the first piece of paper from the considerable stack, and began to read.

Several hours passed while Jesus sat and read the reports. And when he was done, he reread them. And then he sat for a while longer, collecting his thoughts, trying to figure out if what he had just read was true. It had been collated by the angels, who were notoriously good at this sort of thing, but he still couldn't quite fathom it all.

He couldn't quite believe that Earth had gotten to this point, that the humans were doing so much damage to their world and at such a pace, that their very survival was in doubt. He now understood why his father had wanted to come here so much. The crux of the matter was that they were destroying their planet. They were pumping carbon dioxide into their atmosphere at a staggering rate. They were filling their ocean with plastic and suffocating their ecosystems. They were allowing anyone to dump all manner of noxious chemicals wherever they pleased all in the name of owning pieces of technology that they assumed would fill their lives that had become hollow when their communities had been fractured. And they were willingly allowing themselves to be lulled into a state of ignorance.

The worst part of this whole thing was that they knew what they were doing. Their science was advanced enough for them to comprehend their own folly and the data did not lie. At the rate that they were changing their own world, they would truly not be a part of the Universe for much longer. Theirs would be a bright but brief existence.

Jesus suddenly realised that there actually was more at stake here than his pride, his reputation, his desire to return to Heaven as a hero. He still wanted that, he'd be lying if he said he didn't, but he could now see that there was more to this. He actually was on an important mission.

And he could also see that there _was_ still time for humanity to save itself. Just. But they had to get their fingers out of their collective arses and start changing things. That was the only way they would survive and Jesus now knew that there was far too much riding on this to worry about pissing people off. He sat and read through the considerable stack of reports once more. He wanted to be sure that he had all of the information that he needed and that he could marshal all of the appropriate facts that would win him the arguments that he was sure to be having soon enough. For this mission had now become of top importance and the son of God truly did not want to screw it up.

A bigger stage

Jesus was back in New York, sitting on a rather comfortable couch waiting for his appearance on one of the biggest shows on TV to begin. The show that had previously decided to drop him and had once again offered him an interview that he had accepted. He even had the top spot! He had also been prepped and so had an idea of what to expect but despite that he was nervous. He had done the work, he knew what was expected of him and now he was anxious to begin, especially given the stakes of his mission.

He took in his surroundings for a moment. He was once again sitting in an oasis of light, with electronics humming all around him and a crowd sitting chatting in the background. His host was nowhere to be seen and he found that he didn't much like this environment. It was dry and bright and, even with all of his experience, it was unfamiliar. And he was, unfortunately, not as good at dealing with new things as he would like. In all his centuries, millennia of service to the Heavenly Realms he had encountered almost every situation that he thought it was possible to experience yet when he ran into something new, he struggled, despite all that he had done.

Eventually his host appeared and approached him. She stepped into the circle of light and stuck out her hand, shaking his.

"Hi, I'm Mana." Her hand, and her smile, were cold and hard, like she was. She was tall and skinny, blonde and pretty but with an unmistakable 'don't screw with me' attitude and Jesus was intimidated. He wondered how someone that good looking could be so cold and scary and she was the first person that he had encountered in a long time that he genuinely did not want to have sex with. She scared him far too much for that.

"I'm glad to have you on the show," she said. "I've heard a lot about your act and I'm looking forward to our discussion." And then she was gone again. Jesus got the distinct feeling that he was suddenly very far out of his depth and that this host was not the friendly face that he had previously been interviewed by. Nevertheless he was here now and he had a purpose, he had done the reading and he was ready to make his case. He would have the biggest audience to date on this show and he knew that this was the best opportunity that he had so far to make an impact. He took a deep breath, sat back and waited for the interview to begin.

The demon was sitting in the audience, also waiting for the show to begin. He had grabbed tickets when his customer and friend had informed him when the likely take down of Emir Khan, otherwise known as the son of God, would take place. His friend had indeed been grateful for the information that had been supplied, dirt collection of the finest by the demon and his minions, and had paid the fee with pleasure promising to send more work in his direction. It was always good to please his customers and maintain the business relationships he had built up since returning to this world.

It was also good to enjoy the fruits of your labour, even if someone else owned said results, and to get down and dirty with the reality of what it was that he actually did and did very well. That he was watching the end of the career of the son of the being whose assassination he had arranged several years ago on this very world further added to the joy of this experience. The demon eased back into his seat, sipped his black coffee, no sugar, and waited for the show to begin.

Things unravel fast

As soon as his host began speaking, Jesus immediately felt that things were going badly. There was something about Mana's tone that let him know that he wasn't going to get the easy ride that he had gotten so far.

"My guest this evening is a magician from Turkey who has now brought his act to America," she said, warmly to the camera. "So, tell me," she said, shifting to him. "How are you finding it here in the US?"

"It's very shiny," he replied, eliciting a small giggle from the audience. He hadn't been aiming for a laugh, what he had said was true, but nevertheless the audience had been amused.

"It is indeed that," she replied. "And you are a magician, yes? At least that is what I am told." Jesus nodded.

"Of sorts," he replied. "I do some tricks and people like to watch them." Mana smiled. "I also talk to people."

"Well, we all like tricks," she said, addressing the first point but not the second. "You'll do a trick for us, before you leave?" she asked. Again, he nodded, smiling.

"Of course," he replied, still feeling very unsettled.

"Moving on," she said, "as well as performing 'tricks', as you call them, as you said, you like to talk to people. Are you a preacher? Would you say that these people are your followers?" she asked these questions in an innocent tone of voice but Jesus could sense that they were nothing of the sort and that this was a trap. But he also couldn't see any way around this issue. He had people who followed him, as he always had, and thus they were his followers. What else could he call them?

"Yes, I have followers," he replied, deciding to address the issue head on. Jesus couldn't see this but in another room, watching a TV screen, Lucifer slapped his forehead with his hand. "I like to talk to people and they like to listen. And some of them follow me around."

"Do you _preach_ to them?" Mana asked. Jesus could feel his slide down a slippery slope continuing. "I ask this because preachers from the Middle East aren't all that welcome in America right now." Jesus wondered whether Mana had heard about the attacks that _he_ had suffered, the beatings that he had taken. Was this what she was hinting at or was this simply another innocent question?

"Yes, I know," he said. "I have been welcomed to this land in this manner by several groups of people."

"Well, when you're fighting wars in that region of the world, there's a certain amount of pushback expected," she said, glibly.

"Look, those wars are nothing to do with me," Jesus said, quickly. "I came to America to share my act and-"

"And to preach to us," Mana said, coldly cutting him off. "Are you trying to convert us to your religion?" Your religion _is_ my religion, he thought. They're all my religions when you get right down to it! But at this moment that didn't matter.

Emir's religion was not the one that was most prevalent in America and actually a great number of people in this land were openly hostile towards this religion. This complicated matters and Jesus again regretted not taking more time to explore the complex makeup of this world before beginning his mission. Had he done so, he would've planned to take the body of an American. At least that way, when he made his big reveal, they might believe that he actually was the son of God reborn.

"I'm not trying to convert anyone," he said, warmly. "I'm simply trying to have a dialogue with people about the way that we live our lives now." As he said this there was no reaction from the crowd at all, which worried him, but there was one from Mana. She smiled, warmly and broadly and it scared the crap out of him. I've just played right into her hands, haven't I, he thought. Shit! He had and she knew it.

"What right, exactly, do you have," she continued, "to come to our country and tell us how to live?" she asked. He could feel himself sliding further down the rabbit hole and he wondered how to arrest his descent.

"I'm not trying to do that," he calmly replied. "But it's our world, all of us," he replied, trying to get away from the them/us rhetoric. "And we're wrecking it collectively," he added. "Did you know that 8 million tons of plastic is dumped in the oceans each year by us?" he asked, deciding to push forward and try to reach the audience.

With that she turned to face the camera and uttered the words "OK," she said, turning to face the camera. "We're going to take a break and then we'll be right back with our special guest, Emir. Don't go anywhere." The right light clicked off and Mana's even-slightly friendly attitude disappeared. She was up and out of her seat and out of the circle of light before Jesus could react, leaving him to sit and ponder how this had gone wrong so fast.

When they came back, the questions continued but again they weren't the ones that Jesus had been expecting to field and they were being delivered with force. They were hurled at him and he, unused as he was to this sort of treatment, was struggling. People were usually nice to him, reverential even. They weren't aggressive and they didn't aim their fire directly at him.

"So, this following that has built up around you," Mana continued, having already thrown a few curveballs at him and steered him deftly away from environmentalism. "Is this something that you encourage or is it something that makes you feel uncomfortable?"

The answer to this question was obvious. Jesus certainly encouraged his following, he liked being adored and worshipped and the pleasures that came with said worshipping, but that had never been an issue before, why should it now?

"Because we're getting reports that, not only do you sleep with your followers, but that you enjoy having orgies with them. Is this true?" Jesus was stunned. What was wrong with enjoying sex with your followers, Jesus wondered. He had done so on every world he had visited in every part of the cosmos that intelligent life had arisen in and he genuinely had no idea how to respond to this question. He immediately made the mistake of actually trying to answer it.

"Look, it's not like that," he fumbled, knowing that it was exactly like that and, despite all that he had been through both here and on other worlds, he still forgot that his followers, his apostles even, could and would betray him for a small amount of money. He had been through that before.

"What is it like?" Mana asked, innocently. "Are you the leader of a cult?" she asked keeping her tone balanced.

"That's not a fair question," he replied, angrily. "I have followers who are listening to me but this is hardly a cult," he scoffed.

"But you do you sleep with your followers?" he asked, again in an innocent tone of voice as if this was a perfectly reasonable question to ask one of your guests. He wanted to say yes, to argue his case, but he knew it wouldn't work. He had clearly crossed a line here that he needed to not cross any further. But what could he say, how could he answer the question? He decided he could not and so he would not.

"Look, I didn't come here for this," he said, hoping to steer her away from this line of questioning.

"No, I'm sure you didn't," she replied. Then she turned to face the camera. "But here we are and now we have a surprise guest for you," she said, immediately plunging him into despair. "And she says that she's been a part of your following for some time, that she personally slept with you and that she left your cult when she realised what was really going on. She says she can even tell us intimate details about your body that could be confirmed with a simple examination." She turned back to him before adding "Are you willing to undergo said examination?" Her tone was pure sweetness as she delivered this poisonous invitation and the camera swung back to his blank expression as he mumbled 'not really' before swinging back to the host. "Please welcome to the stage, Cindy!"

As the audience clapped loudly, Jesus realised that he was now in Hell. Somehow he had been transposed from Earth to Hell while he had been sleeping and now he was being tormented. Because he couldn't believe that things had gotten so bad here on Earth and that the interview that he had worked so hard to get had gone so spectacularly wrong. It just didn't seem possible.

A young, attractive girl appeared from somewhere outside of the bright lights and took a seat next to him on the stage. She smiled at her host, at the camera and then, finally, at him.

"Welcome to the show, Cindy," Mana said. He guest smiled again. "Do you know our other guest, Emir?"

"Very well," said Cindy to laughs and applause from the audience. "You could say I know him intimately." There was more laughing and applause from the audience. Jesus felt himself blushing, something that happened very rarely.

"Were you a follower of this man?" Mana asked the young lady.

The young girl nodded. "I was," she added, helpfully. "I met him at one of his shows, I heard him perform and speak and then I joined his cult," there was that very unhelpful word again, "And I followed him."

"Cindy, did you have sex with Emir," asked Mana.

"I did," Cindy replied, grinning.

"No, she didn't," replied the son of God. "I think I'd remember."

"Well, you were quite drunk," Cindy retorted. "And stoned." A ripple of amusement passed around the room. Jesus had no idea what to say or how to reply. He was completely unprepared for this ambush. But what could he really do? He may have had sex with this girl and she may have been a follower of his. He really couldn't be sure without more information. And a better memory that wasn't so tainted with alcohol and drug use.

"So, what is this personal information that you are able to reveal to us and that a simple examination will reveal?" Mana asked.

"Emir has a birthmark," said Cindy. Jesus wondered if she was right. He hadn't paid that much attention to his own body since arriving, more to those of his attractive followers, and now he was actually wondering. "And it's on his butt." This drew a titillated murmur from the crowd, who were clearly pleased at this salacious detail. "And it's in the shape of a cross!" It's not, thought Jesus, is it? How could I have missed that detail?

The interview continued but, by this point, Jesus had zoned out and barely even responded to the questions that he was asked directly. He knew he should've made more of an effort to engage and to salvage the situation but he had been so blindsided that he responded quite badly. Once the entire thing was over, he hustled back to the green room and then out of the building as soon as he could. He wanted to wait this nonsense out, to ignore all media requests for the next few days, and then to get back on the saddle and reengage with his audience. Once this entire mess had fizzled itself out. As it surely would, right?

It can't get worse, can it?

And then a video was released onto the internet. It showed him and Cindy in a state of undress, with other people scattered around the room either watching or engaged in their own sexual acts, but there was little doubt as to what Jesus and Cindy were doing. The video showed all that they did for the next six and a half minutes. Jesus now had his very own sex tape, out there on the internet for all to see.

"Everyone has a mobile computer in their pockets, these days," Lucifer said to him, trying to console the son of God. Trying, very badly, it might be noted. "And these devices can all record and upload videos. You really should've been more careful," his manager said, very unhelpfully.

Yet that didn't stop the interview requests coming in. Actually it made everything worse. Suddenly, everyone wanted him on their show. He was getting more offers than he could field and Lucifer and his team were struggling to cope with the demand. But he didn't yet want to go back on any more shows. He also knew that he may have no choice, that this opportunity would end shortly and that he might not get another.

Soon enough, Jesus was soon sitting in another studio enduring another interview, trying to salvage the wreckage of his career. But since the big one matters had shifted dramatically, and not in his favour. His hosts seemed to now be of the attitude that he must be challenged at every turn and that it was their job to hold his feet to the fire, as he had heard the locals say. He was finding it a most uncomfortable experience and he wanted things to go back to the way they had been. He sat through one train wreck interview after another and, though he was getting good ratings, his message was not being heard and that frustrated him. They were uninterested in what he had to say, merely in what he had become, a celebrity sex scandal that included all that they loved: religion, alcohol and pretty young things.

On another show on the WOLF network in another disastrous interview, Jesus had no choice but to confront his host after he was asked the age of the people that he had been seen having sex with.

"Look, I didn't ask their age, why would I?"

"So it doesn't matter that some of these girls that you are involved with might be minors?" He knew that the hole he was falling into just kept getting bigger and he had no idea how to half his descent.

"To the best of my knowledge they were all older than 18," Jesus said. That's the age of consent here, right? he thought adding, I should've checked that before the show.

"Should a person in your position not check these things?" his host asked in an inviting tone of voice.

"Yes, of course they should," he replied, wearily.

"Yet you did not," came the reply. Then the accusations began to take on more and more ridiculous tones, extending into the truly ridiculous including accusations of bestiality. Jesus was certain that had not occurred, he would've remembered that. Surely, he would remember that.

"Look," Jesus replied, sighing. "You can't say these things, they are simply not true."

"Irrelevant," he replied. "We have eyewitnesses."

"But you're talking about me!" he yelled. " _I_ was an eye witness to what you are talking about!"

"You who have proven to be unreliable, what with the leaking of the sex tape that you denied existed!" his host exclaimed.

"I didn't know anything about it!" Jesus replied.

"Was that because you were drunk or stoned while you had sex with these kids?" the host asked. Jesus was stunned, he didn't know how to respond or what he could possibly say. The questions went on like this for some time, with no one listening to his replies, before he abruptly ended the interview, left the set and returned to the green room.

Off camera, Jesus confronted his host.

"Look, you can't say any of those things, they just aren't true!" he said, hoping to reach this man, to persuade him.

"As far as we are concerned, they are and we have witnesses to prove it. Besides, the truth hasn't mattered in some time," he said.

"What? But aren't you a news channel?" he asked, again naively.

"We are, but we can also say what we like and there's nothing anyone can do about that. We have the law on our side."

"But don't you have to report the news, isn't that why people watch you?" he asked. Jesus felt completely lost in this conversation and had not been expecting the course that had been suddenly been taken.

"We do report the news and the truth. It's just that, not everything we report is objectively true."

"So," said Jesus. "Let me make sure that I understand you. What you are saying is that you are legally allowed to make stuff up and report it as news?" There was another long pause.

"Yes, that's about the size of it," he replied. Jesus was stunned. He had assumed when preparing for these interviews that his hosts would at least be truthful in the way they dealt with him. He had thought that he would be allowed to make his point, to back it up with the information that he had been supplied with and that there would then be a discussion about this knowledge and the best course of action. He had never for a moment imagined that they would so blatantly distort what he was saying and that they would use it to shut him down. Again he had no idea what to do next. What could he do in the face of something so willfully unbalanced, so uninterested in debate and discussion but merely in distortion for their own ends?

He came to the conclusion that there was nothing he could do, he was powerless and soon enough, it was over, his rise to the top had been dramatically halted. Again. His face continued to be shown in many of the papers over the following days and weeks with dramatic headlines explaining that he was the leader of a cult, that he slept with his followers and detailing how evil he was. Or how deluded. Or how misguided. Either way the damage was done and Jesus knew that he would not be appearing on any more television shows or at least none with the ratings that he needed to get the job done.

No, that route was now closed to him and the problem was that the son of God had no clue what to do next. Even Lucifer was flummoxed. Eventually the Lord of Hell turned up at his hotel room.

"Well, we gave it a shot," said Lucifer, himself somewhat surprised at how badly this had ended. "Turns out the humans don't want to be diverted from their current course right now." He paused before continuing. "I'm not sure there's anything more I can do to help you. If you plan to continue, that is." Jesus merely starred at the man who was most definitely not a man.

"I see that you do," Lucifer replied. "Well, I'm afraid that our association has now come to an end, I can be of no further use and I shall be moving on. I wish you luck and I look forward to the day that we settle the little debt that you have accrued here." Shit, thought Jesus, I thought I'd only be in his debt if this plan succeeded. But I guess it doesn't work like that, especially when dealing with something like him. Lucifer offered his hand and Jesus shook it. It was warm, far warmer than it should've been, and then the angel was gone. He was simply not standing where he had been and Jesus was unsure how he did that. Not even the son of God had that power, though he knew of several other beings who did, and maybe he would have to look into it.

But not now. First he had some serious moping to do before a plan could be figured out and there was nothing to do but get on with it.

Not the intended audience2

Sandy had watched the rise of the son of God on the Earth station with both delight and despair.

Delight because for a moment, for one brief moment, it actually looked like Jesus would succeed, that he would use the might of the information age to change the minds and attitudes of the humans and steer them away from their current destructive path and towards something sustainable. And despair because what Jesus was doing, or at least what Sandy thought Jesus would shortly be doing, was against the rules and this particular angel was the one charged with stopping him from stepping over the line that he had been dangerously skirting for the past few months.

Sandy had no desire to intervene, to place himself between the son of his Lord and the powers that he was using in contravention of Heavenly guidelines but that was where he was. Sandy had spent the past few months trying to work out at what point he would have to stop him, should it come to that.

And then it was suddenly over, Jesus' rise had halted and then he had come crashing down. There was no longer a need for the angel to intervene but he would, of course, keep watching until Jesus headed back to the Heavenly Realm, which he surely would be doing soon. The angel's dilemma seemed to have been solved by the humans. There was of course still the problem of their impending destruction by their own hands, but that was an issue for tomorrow and one that, ultimately, he could probably do nothing about, such were the guidelines under which they all worked.

Jesus would probably be arriving at his office shortly, after he had resurfaced from the funk that he had no doubt descended into. For Jesus was known for having an impressive ability to sulk, as well as for actually being a highly regarded operator. But it was the former that would no doubt be occupying the time of the son of God for the foreseeable future. Once he dragged himself out of said funk, Sandy was sure that we would reappear and then the angel would have to see if there's was any way that he could help him accomplish his mission while still working within the rules. It was the least the angel could do, after all.

An alternate plan

Jesus was sitting in his hotel room feeling truly miserable. He had now lost two managers, one of whom was a really decent man, while the other was most definitely not. And he had incurred a debt with the God of Mischief that would inevitably have to be repaid and Jesus wondered what that would cost him. But that was for another day, right now he still needed to figure out what he was doing next, if anything at all

It was all over and he knew it. The humans had ignored his plea, he wasn't even sure that he had gotten far enough to reach them but it was done. He had taken his shot at reaching the worldwide audience that he needed and he had failed. Or rather his chance had been destroyed by the malevolent actions of an entity more evil and malicious than almost anything Jesus had ever encountered: a television network. And he had been all over the cosmos, had met all manner of creatures and had endured time spent in both Heaven and Hell. And this was worse than anything in his experience.

He truly felt lost and abandoned and he had not felt this way in a very long time. Jesus couldn't even remember the last time he had actually failed. It might've been when the gelatinous beings of Globineous V had decided that he had impregnated their queen and that he must be thrown in the local volcano. He was of course guilty as charged and he had needed to be rescued by the angels that were stationed on that world. Otherwise the indigenous beings would've actually thrown him in that volcano and what a nasty end that would've been for that mission.

Or there had been the time when he had caused a diplomatic incident by eating the centre piece at a dinner that had turned out not to be that evenings banquet, but the unfertilised eggs of the monarch that were awaiting impregnation. How was he supposed to know that, they were just sitting out in the open, intermingled with the banquet. And they had been delicious too!

And now the truly terrifying thing for the son of God was that he had absolutely no idea what to do next. He needed to talk to someone, to formulate a plan, but that would mean leaving this room and he had been here for a considerable length of time and had done nothing except mope. He hadn't eaten or slept, bathed or even had sex with something and for him this was a truly worrying state of affairs. He knew that Sandalphon would be concerned for his welfare, as would his dad, and so he resolved to go and talk to the angel at some point. Eventually. When he was done moping.

But he felt that he was not yet done here on Earth. He was never done, not until he said that he was and here and now he was not yet done. He simply needed a new plan that was all, a plan that was fundamentally different from his usual plans. He took a long while to think this through, to think about what it would mean to change the way he operated and to force himself to adapt. He did not like this idea much at all. And then he decided that he was mistaken. He did not need a new plan, could not even conceive of what a new plan might look like. Nope, he was the Son of God, the most seasoned operative in the entire Heavenly Realm, and he should not be looking to change the way in which he operated. Not for the lousy humans, not for anyone!

What he needed was some help, for someone to put a different spin on the situation so that he could see a path through, and a way around the bloody television networks that had destroyed him. But there was also a limit to both his patience and his energies when it came to a problem like this. Jesus was not someone who was willing to easily quit but then he also could not see any path through and so he was stuck.

Until he made a decision either way he was here and here he would remain until another solution to his problem presented himself. Unfortunately, creative thinking was not his strongest attribute, looking to others as he usually did when things became tricky. In which case, what he needed was some fresh eyes, some fresh ideas and maybe the input of someone who had so far only watched and not contributed.

The only being that he could think of who fit that bill was Sandalphon, the overseer of Earth. Yes, the angel had not yet helped him and so Jesus would go to him and see if he could provide a much needed new perspective. Sandy had untold resources at his command, some of which could be put to helping out their most seasoned operative, surely? He had to at least ask and so he decided to do just that.

Jesus felt better than he had for a while. He had, if not the beginnings of a plan, then at least someone he could go to who would help him to formulate a new approach. And if the angel who had looked after this world for millennia could not help him, then there truly was nothing more to be done and he would simply have to accept it and return home having failed. But he still had one last card to play, one last hand with which he might win.

Tomorrow, he would consult the angels on the station. Until then he would ponder the problem. And also mope for he was not yet done moping. And there were few beings in the cosmos who could mope like the son of God!

### Chapter Seven

In which Jesus seems some help, bureaucracy is overcome, Jeffrey and Melissa meet the son of God, and Jesus hits the road, again

Some fresh help

Eventually, Jesus returned to the Earth station as he didn't know what else to do. He needed some advice and the only being that he thought could help him was Sandalphon. He requested teleportation and a short time later he arrived in the station.

He wandered down the corridors in the general direction of Sandalphon's office, hoping to speak to the angel. When he arrived at his office, he didn't even try to barge in. He told the secretary that he would like to speak to his boss and then he took a seat to wait. The secretary looked stunned and spent some time checking the schedule that he had in front of him.

"I'm afraid he's rather busy today," the angel eventually said. "He's got meetings scheduled all afternoon. The next available appointment is in several days. Will that work?" Jesus could see that the secretary was trying to be nice, that his fame still afforded him a little courtesy.

"Sure," he replied. "I'll be in my room if Sandy can see me earlier." He walked back out the door towards his room to continue his really good sulk until the time of the meeting.

Several days passed in a blur before he finally motivated himself enough to leave his room having finally remembered to shower and change his clothes. He walked to Sandalphon's office for his scheduled appointment and trudged into the room. Sandalphon was on the phone and Jesus could guess to whom he was speaking.

"Is that dad?" he asked. The angel nodded. "Tell him that I hate the bloody humans and that he was right. They are impossible. I'll be on the next flight back to the Heavenly Realm just to get away from this nightmare." Jesus slumped into the awaiting chair and waited for the angel to do as he was asked.

"I think you should tell him yourself," Sandy said. "I'm going to put you on speaker," Sandy said into the earpiece. He pressed the relevant button and then replaced the phone on the receiver. "Go ahead," said the angel.

"Right," came the reply. "I hate the sound of my voice on speaker. But that's besides the point. How are you doing, son?" Jesus took a moment before replying, seemingly composing himself.

"Not good, dad," he replied. "I'm miserable. The humans are impossible! They refuse to listen even when it's me trying to tell them! They are so bloody stubborn!" God knew how His son felt having been down this road himself. He had eventually reached the conclusion that humanity should be left to its own devices to either figure it out or collapse under their own weight. But He did not think that his son had yet reached that point.

"I know how you feel. I was frustrated by my own experience trying to help them and even the aid of a human didn't help me. Look, why don't you come home, have a rest and we can figure out where you're going next." Jesus was nodding, forgetting that his father could not see this gesture. "Is he nodding?" asked God.  
"Yes, he is," replied Sandalphon. A few moments passed with Jesus sitting quietly, which worried the angel. He was not often quiet and this might indicate that he was deep in thought, which was also not something that he did not do too often. Or well.

"This human," said Jesus, suddenly. "What was his name?"

"Jeffrey," replied God. "Jeffrey Smith. Why do you--"

"And where does he live?"

"London, last I knew. Why--"

"We have his address on file, right?" Sandalphon nodded. "Right. I've changed my mind, dad. I'm not ready to come home yet. I've suffered a setback and now I need some new help." There was silence from the angel and the telephone and so Jesus continued. "I'm going back down to the planet, I'm going to look up this human who helped you and between the two of us we'll figure out a new plan. And then, once he's helped me and I've succeeded, I'll come home. Cheers!" he said with much more joy and then he walked out of the angel's office and back to his mission.

"Is he gone?" asked God, still on speaker.

"Yes, he is," Sandy said. "Well, that was surprising. I really thought he'd be headed back to you."

"So, did I," God replied. "Well, there's no changing his mind once it's set so just keep an eye on him, eh? Right, where were we before my son interrupted?" God and Sandalphon returned to their regular chat that they both enjoyed so much. Actually, it was a highlight of their weeks and each found that they were glad of the contact, even if it was not in person. Maybe one day it would be but for now this would suffice.

An act of bureaucracy

Jesus had hoped that it wouldn't have to come to this but it had and now he had to do what was necessary. He had been given the name of the department in the Earth Station where he could get the information that he needed, he had walked to said department and he had entered the foyer. Then he had stood in awe of the incredibly long, snaking queue that he found within.

Then he had taken a deep breath and joined the back of the queue. Jesus sighed and prepared himself for the aeon that it would inevitably take to reach the front of the line. He tried to settle himself down but if there was one thing he was particularly bad at, it was being patient. And queuing. He hated queuing.

Many hours passed and Jesus slowly moved forward in the line. Not even being the son of God had sped up this process, despite the angel's long ago noticing that he was there. Slowly, interminably slowly, the line in front of him shortened and he inched closer to the counter and the bureaucrat who could help him.

Finally, Jesus reached the desk at the front of the queue. He was welcomed to the counter and, as he reached said desk, the angel gave him a smile. It wasn't a warm smile. It was the smile of someone who knew that a stupid question would inevitably be asked, for this angel had fielded many such stupid questions, and he knew that was the only kind of question that he was ever asked. A stupid one.

"Can I help you?" he asked Jesus. Not that his next customer being the son of God made the slightest bit of difference to him. It didn't, he was the same as all the others and would be treated in an identical manner, despite his exceedingly divine providence. For this angel could act no other way. That was his job.

"I need an address," said the son of God. "For the human who helped my father out the last time He visited this world." Jesus felt this should be enough to get what he needed. He was sure that this angel would remember when his dad had visited, it would've been a big deal for everyone stationed here. A visit from the Creator would've been celebrated and enjoyed in the same vein as the visit of a royal or of the CEO of a corporation.

"I'm going to need a little more information," replied the angel. "Take this form," he said, placing a significant stack of papers on the desk in front of him, "fill it out and then take it up to the fourth floor." Jesus head fell forward. This is going to be worse than I hoped, he thought to himself. And I thought it was going to be pretty bad!

"Look, is this all really necessary," he asked the angel, knowing what the answer would be. "Can I not just give you the name and you just give me the address? It shouldn't be hard to find, should it?" Jesus gesturing to the computer terminal in front of the angel, who did not look impressed.

"Take the form, fill it out, and take it to the fourth floor. They'll help you." The angel gave Jesus a look that said that he had had enough of dealing with this particular annoyance and that Jesus really needed to go away now. Then he looked up and yelled "next" to the assembled crowd.

Bloody angels, thought the son of God. Bloody bureaucrats! Nevertheless, he took a seat and began filling out the form, muttering under his breath about how ridiculous this entire scenario was. He was the son of God, the divine creator, he shouldn't have to be dealing with all of this bullshit. But it seemed that there was little choice, he could either fill out the form and take it to the fourth floor or give up and go home. Reluctantly, he resigned himself to the task at hand.

Filling out the form took another age and Jesus wondered how many trees had given their lives for this act of bureaucracy. Far too many, he thought. Eventually, he completed the form and headed up to the fourth floor. He rode the elevator, strode down the corridor, and arrived in the room where he thought his quest, for that is what it was starting to feel like, would end. He was wrong but he didn't yet know it. He strode up to the counter, grateful that there was not a queue and handed over the form. The angel looked at it and then looked at him.

"You're in the wrong place," he simply said. Jesus's head hit the counter with a resounding thud. Then he swore, loudly and at length. When he looked back up again, the angel was blushing and glowing a little. Jesus knew that this was what happened when his father swore around his servants. They couldn't help but react and, though, the effect was much less pronounced, clearly his tirade had had the same effect. "Look, there really is no point in getting angry," the angel said. "I'm only doing my job."

Ah, the inevitable excuse of the incompetent, thought Jesus. "Look," said the son of God, "I know that. But I've been here for a while and I just want to get on with my mission. You know who I am, right?" he asked. The angel nodded. "So you know that my mission is important and that the information I need will help me. Is there any way we could, you know, speed this process along?" he asked. Before the humans actually do exterminate themselves, he thought.

"I'll see what I can do," the angel replied, disappearing into the room behind him. Finally, thought Jesus, progress. Several moments passed and then several more. Jesus wondered whether the angel had gone to another world to obtain the information but eventually he reappeared. He was holding a piece of paper which he then handed to the son of God. Jesus looked down at it only to discover that it did not have the address he wanted on it. It was yet another form that would, no doubt, require filling in.

"What's this?" he asked the angel, with more petulance than intended. "I thought you were getting me the information I need?"

"Oh, no, I can't do that," he replied. "I don't have access. But if you fill that form out and take it back down to the ground floor they should be able to help you." Jesus almost exploded again. Instead he thanked the angel and trudged his way back to the elevator. He arrived at the ground floor, took a seat, filled out the, thankfully short, form and then rejoined the back of the queue.

What the hell were you thinking, dad, thought Jesus, wondering whether he would ever be able to actually get back down to the world below, when you allowed the angels to run Heaven? No wonder you can never get any bloody work done! Jesus resigned himself to the inevitable wait and wondered whether going ballistic would help at all. Probably not but he knew it wouldn't be too much longer until he was ready to give it a go.

Eventually, he was called back to the desk to face the angel who had dealt with him the first time. He handed over the form and waited for what he was sure wouldn't be the end of the debacle.

"Able to help you, were they?" the angel asked. Then he looked down at what was in front of him. "Oh, no, this will never do he said. Those useless buggers on the fourth floor have given you the wrong form." Now Jesus really did want to explode right bloody now! He watched as the angel dropped the papers into the awaiting shredder. The forms that had taken him many hours to obtain and that had turned out to be useless.

"Look, go back to the fourth floor, tell them that they've given you the wrong form and ask them to give you the 'human tracing form' and not the 'human identification form'. They should, if they have any idea what they are doing, be able to help you. Next!" Jesus wondered if it would be worth going to Sandalphon to see if he could get the information but he didn't want to bother the angel who ran the station who no doubt had more important things to be doing. Jesus also briefly considered carrying out an unspeakable act of violence before dismissing the idea. That was not in his nature, despite the situation, and it wouldn't achieve anything anyway, except maybe make him feel a little better. No, there was nothing he could do except continue his current quest.

"Thank you," he said through gritted teeth and a fixed smile. He may yet need the help of this particular angel and so he couldn't risk annoying him. He walked to the elevator to return to the fourth floor and, hopefully, find the correct form to obtain the information that he needed, still wondering whether he should've just caught the next flight back to the Heavenly Realm and given up on the whole thing.

Jesus didn't know how long he had now been trapped in this particular circle of hell, how many hours had passed. A large number, no doubt, but there were no clocks and no windows, likely to prevent all attempts to keep track of the ridiculous amount of time it took to traverse the system. All he knew was that he now wanted to kill every living thing in this building. He wouldn't but he really wanted to, such was the infuriating power of the bureaucracy that the angels controlled.

Yet, despite all this hardship, despite every obstacle that was thrown in his way, eventually Jesus prevailed. He had gotten the information that he sought, the address for the human who had helped his father during His quest. This man, Jeffrey Smith, had moved several times since then and so he was glad that the angels had kept track. Oh, and he had gotten married and had a few children, the records indicated. Despite everything, despite all the frustration and hellish environment he had endured for who-knows-how-long, Jesus had to admit that the angels had done a good job of keeping tabs on this man.

It couldn't be easy, thought the son of God, keeping track of beings whose lives were so short and who flitted around their insignificant world on a whim and he knew that this bureaucracy was, not only necessary, but actually functional and he had to give the angels credit for that. Not much, mind you, just a little. Still, he would burn the whole thing down, were he in charge, and the angels should be grateful that he was not, he thought. Should that day ever come they would surely know his wrath.

Jesus returned to the entrance to the department, briefly considered letting rip with an expletive filled tirade, decided against it, and then left via the exit, glad to once again be on his way.

An unexpected guest2

Jeffrey opened the door to find a stranger standing there. The man looked Middle-Eastern with long hair and he was fairly scruffily dressed. Jeff looked him up and down.

"Can I help you," he asked.

"Jeffrey Smith?" the man asked. Jeff examined him more closely and found that he was glowing, a divine light emanating from his frame. This situation seemed somewhat familiar, like he'd been here before. Then he remembered.

"Oh, no," said Jeff. "Not this again." He closed the door on the man and returned to the kitchen where he had been making a cup of tea. Jeff heard the man knocking on the door again and ignored it.

"Jeff," said Melissa from upstairs. She had been attempting to rouse the kids from their slumber. "There's someone at the door!"

"I know," Jeff replied.

"What do you mean, you know? Aren't you going to answer it?"

"No, dear," Jeff replied. "I'm not going to answer it." Melissa did not reply and silence filled the house. Silence that was broken by the continued knocking on the door.

"Jeff," said Melissa. "What's going on?"

"Oh, nothing dear," he replied. Nothing, except the return of all the religious nonsense that dominated my life some years ago, he thought. Melissa appeared in the doorway to the kitchen.

"Tea, dear," said Jeff, handing her a mug. She didn't take it from him, instead giving him a quizzical look.

"Jeff, someone is still knocking on the door. Are you going to answer it or am I?"

"I wouldn't do that," Jeff said. "It'll only result in trouble." Melissa looked very confused. The insistent knocking continued.

"Look, they clearly aren't going anywhere so we have to answer the door, don't we?" she asked, clearly unsure that they did.

"No, we don't," Jeff replied. "We can ignore it and it'll go away." At least, I hope it will, he thought.

"We can't do that," she replied, ever the sensible one.

"We can't?" he replied, unconvinced. "No, I guess we can't."  
"At some point we have to leave the house. Besides, leaving whoever it is standing there is rude." said Melissa. Jeffrey didn't respond, instead choosing silence as the preferred option. "OK, I'll get it, shall I," she said, moving to do so. Shit, here we go again, thought Jeff as she did so. Melissa opened the door to find the man still standing there.

"Can I help you?" she asked, tersely.

"Good morning," came the reply. "I'm here to talk to your husband. Jeffrey Smith does live here, right?"

"He does," Melissa replied. Jeff sighed, loudly, wishing that she had denied the man that information. "And you are?"

"He helped my dad once," said the man. "My name's Jesus. Jesus Christ."

"Oh, bugger," said Melissa, closing the door in the face of Jesus.

An unwelcome invitation

"Don't say it," said Melissa. "Don't bloody say it. You were right, OK. I shouldn't have opened that door." I should remember this day, thought Jeff. It's one of the few days I've ever been told that I'm right by my wife.

"Well, now we've both opened the door and talked to him, so we can hardly continue to ignore him," Jeff said.

"Is it really him," she asked.

"As far as I can tell, yes it is him."

"Shit," she replied. "I just closed the door on the son of God." Jeff nodded, aware that he had also done the same thing. "How do you know it's him?"

"Well, he sort of glows, "Jeff replied. "In the same way that God did when He was here." It had been many years since Jeff's crusade with God had concluded but he hadn't forgotten those events or the effect that they had had on him. Nor had he forgotten the unique light that divine beings radiated. "Look, we can't leave him standing on the doorstep. He's being quite patient with us."

"Well, you can't just turn up on someone's doorstep, tell them that you are Jesus Christ, and expect everything to remain normal. That's not how it works!" Jeff was aware that Melissa was becoming agitated at this point. She had had extensive counselling since her ordeal at the hands of a demon during said crusade but was still prone to explosive outbursts. And who could blame her. The demon had abused and tortured her and that part of her past was now forced being back into her life.

A loud crash from upstairs distracted them both.

"Look, I have to go and deal with the boys, see what they've broken now. You, get rid of him!" She hustled towards the stairs and disappeared from Jeff's view, leaving him to decide what to do about the man still on his doorstep. Jeff opened the door.

"Hello again," he said, smiling.

"Hello, Jeff," replied Jesus. There was a long, awkward silence.

"Why are you here," Jeff asked, abruptly.

"I need your help," Jesus replied. "You helped my dad once and now I need you to help me." Wonderful, thought Jeff. Just wonderful.

"Come in," Jeff said. "Cup of tea?"

Melissa returned to the living room to find Jeff sitting enjoying a cup of tea with the son of God. Jeff stood and walked over to his wife.

"So what did they break?" he asked.

"Nothing expensive," she replied. She stared at the man sitting on the sofa. "Why is he here, sitting in our living room? When I said get rid of him, I didn't mean invite him in and give him bloody tea!"

"Look, Mel, I've been here before. He wasn't going to go away until we talked to him. That's just how it works. He would've stood on our doorstep until we did so." Jesus sat patiently with an innocent look on his face while his hosts talked around him. He was used to this, being the son of God. People were often talking about him as if he were not present. "Look," said Jeff. "Jesus, I'm not going to help you. I've been there and I've done my part. I helped your father to try to change the world. We failed and if He couldn't do it then I don't see what you can do."

Jesus smiled. "You've been following what I've been up to in the states, right?" he asked. "You've seen my rise and subsequent fall?"

Now that Jeff thought about it, this man did indeed look familiar. "You're that magician, right, and you were recently on some US shows. Yeah, I heard about it," Jeff said. He and Melissa were fans of the Daily Show who had covered it in detail. "We saw the coverage, you were pretty good and it seemed like you were doing well. But then you started talking about things like environmentalism and the right-wing media eviscerated you."

"That's about the size of it," replied Jesus. "Look, Dad does things His way and I do things another. My way is to be reborn onto a world like this, to build up a following and then to use that power to bring about the changes that the world needs. And I've shown time and again that what I do can get results that dad and his angels just can't." He looked distinctly smug as he said this, seemingly proud of his record. Jeff sensed competition between father and son that was a little unseemly. "But my opened gambit has failed due to unforeseen conditions."

"Yeah, WOLF news has an uncanny ability to derail progressive causes." Jeff said, aware of the effect that they, and other networks, had had following his crusade with God.

"But I have a plan and I need your help if it's going to work."

"Look, I don't mean to sounds dismissive, but I've been here before. I helped your dad and it didn't turn out well." Jeff was aware of how strange it felt referring to God as Jesus' father, though that was, to the best of his knowledge, exactly what He was. "And now I have a wife and two kids to think about. I'm sorry but my answer is no." Jesus looked visibly disappointed.

"I understand," he said, standing to leave. "You've done well since meeting my dad, haven't you?" His expression was a little unpleasant as he said this. Is he really trying to extort me into helping him, thought Jeff. He is, isn't he, the little shit!

"I have," Jeff said. "And some of that is thanks to your father, but most of it is due to hard work on my part." Jeff couldn't bring himself to say that his success was thanks to God, it simply felt too silly a statement to make from someone who wasn't, despite his experiences, a religious man. Since God's visit Jeff had founded a successful atheist organisation, he refused to describe it as a church, to spread the word of God as he saw it. And, yes, he saw the irony in this scenario, in his spreading the actual word of God. But then a visit by the real God did have a habit of complicating matters. "But my answer is still no," said Jeff. "I'm not interested in your plan and, as I said, I've already done my part, more than enough. Please leave."

Jesus stood and stared at the man. He was unused to this level of insolence, most treated him with extreme deference and Jesus found that he preferred that. He didn't like this situation at all. He felt his temper rising and knew he had to get out of the room before he said something he'd regret. He stood to leave.

"Wait," said Melissa. "You need Jeff's help?" Jesus nodded. "Does it have to be him, specifically?" Jesus shook his head. There was a long, pregnant pause while Melissa formulated her thoughts. "I'll do it," she said. Neither Jesus, nor Jeffrey spoke.

"You'll do what?" Jeff asked.

"I'll help." Both men looked confused.

"You want to help me?" asked Jesus.

"Well, no, not really," Melissa replied, unhelpfully. "But if you need help and Jeff doesn't want to, then I will."

"Mel, what are you doing?"

"I don't know, but let's run with this. You can look after the kids for a few days, right?" I nodded. Jeff could but he didn't particularly want to. They were quite a handful. "And let's assume that Jesus here does actually need some help. I work in media relations, I do this job for your organisation, I can help." The confused look remained on his face and Jeff didn't understand what was happening. It seemed that his wife was volunteering for a religious crusade. Melissa had indeed been working as a press officer for Jeff's atheist organisation, as and when he could afford her services, and the rest of the time she worked with an impressive list of clients that she had built since her encounter with the demon. And he could see why she wanted to help but Jeff still thought that this was a particularly bad idea. He knew because he'd been there, he'd done that.  
"Honey, can we talk about this?" Jeff pleaded.

"Of course we can," Melissa replied. "But I'm not going to change my mind. This is something I need to do." Well, shit, thought Jeff. That happened bloody fast.

Jesus retook his seat on the sofa, smiling. This has all turned out rather well, he thought.

So what happens now?

"OK," said Jeff, "What now?" He and Melissa exchanged glances while Jesus sat patiently on the sofa.

"Jesus, get your coat," she said, finding hers in the closet. "I need a beer and we need to have a conversation. Jeff, look after the kids, I'll be back once I know what the plan is." And with that they were out the door, leaving Jeff wondering how in the hell all this was happening again.

Melissa and Jesus entered a pub down the road from where she and Jeff lived and she bought the first round, though she knew she would be buying all the rounds for the son of God did not seem to have any cash on him. Then she took a seat opposite him, took a swig of the beer and asked the obvious question.

"So, why are you doing this, then?" she asked, cutting right to the heart of the matter. He took a long moment before replying.

"Well, why not," he finally said. Melissa eyed him for a second before answering herself.

"That's not an answer," she said.

"Yes, it is," he replied. She didn't response with the retort that she wanted to utter, instead waiting for him to actually answer.

"Look, I've read the reports, the destruction your species is inflicting on this world is staggering and it does need saving, right?" he asked. She nodded. "Dad's attempt to change your ways didn't work but He and I do things a little differently so I'm here to see whether my way will work where His didn't."

"You want to succeed where your Almighty father failed," said Melissa. It wasn't a question but a statement and Jesus didn't speak instead choosing to simply nod. "Look, that doesn't matter to me," she said. "What matters is that you are right, humanity is on a course towards its own destruction and no one seems to know how to change this. If you have an idea of how to stop this, then I'm all ears."

"Oh, I have a plan," he said. "And it's a great one!"

"OK, lay it out," she replied. So Jesus explained how his modus operandi worked and, in great detail, his successful career but there was one detail that Melissa was stuck on.

"Isn't this what you were doing in the US?" she asked. "What's changed?"

"Well, now I have your help!" Jesus replied. Melissa eyeballed him a few moments and he squirmed under her gaze. She had two young children and so was used to dealing with bullshit every day.

"You really think the plan that has failed in the US will work now that you have my help?"

"Well, I'm in a new part of your world with a new audience who won't have heard of me, or at least won't have heard the bad parts. Plus I won't have to contend with the network that brought me down, that bloody WOLF news! That'll be enough, I'm sure." Melissa thought that he had a point but, in this globalised world, she knew that his reputation could probably follow him anyway and she didn't know how much of an issue this might be. Well, there's only one way to find out, she thought, and that's to get on with it and see what happens. So that is I will do, she thought. After I've consumed a few more beers and once I convince my husband.

Melissa and Jesus spent a long time in the pub discussing what the 'plan' but, as it was the same as it always was, there wasn't all that much to talk about. He knew who he was, he knew what his thing was and he was determined to stick to it. And he thought that she was the person to help him rebuild his shattered reputation. She thought that she actually might be able to help, given her career in media management and her excellent network of contacts but she was also unsure, given the damage his reputation had already suffered.

Melissa returned home to consider what she was doing and then she and Jeff talked about it, and talked about it, and talked about it. But she did not change her mind. She was determined to join Jesus on his crusade and there was nothing, it seemed, that Jeff could do to stop her. Eventually, he just had to accept it. He didn't like it but what could he do? Once she had set herself on a course the matter was usually settled.

Besides Jeffrey could hardly blame her wanting to do exactly what he himself had done some years ago. There was something about an invitation to join the actual God on a crusade to save the world that had been quite difficult to refuse. And here was his wife doing same thing with the son. Jeffrey also knew that his mission with God had changed him in ways that he had not expected. He was not the same man who had stood in his living room and talked to the Almighty when they had first met. Jeff had travelled far and wide, well to Scotland anyway, in his desire to help God change the path that humanity was on. And, though they had failed and God had returned to reclaim His Kingdom, Jeffrey had carried on the fight in his own way. But the progress they had made was achingly slow and he could hardly begrudge Melissa wanting to do move things along in whatever way she could.

Jeffrey also really hoped that joining Jesus' quest would help her to heal the scars that remained from her treatment at the hands of the demon sent by Metatron to stop God in his crusade, a demon whose name he had never learned. Melissa put on a brave face but he knew that she thought of that time and sometimes felt like she was still in that dungeon. If anything could help her, Jeffrey hoped that this might be it. But then again, he also knew that matters such as these rarely worked out the way that you hoped. His own experience had told him that much and now all he could do was wait and see. Maybe this would have the desired effect, maybe it wouldn't. Either way it was happening and that was that. But for now, Jeffrey had hope. He would have to wait to see how long that would hope would last.

Melissa packed her bags, said goodbye to her husband and children and joined the son of God on his quest to save the world. They set off on the road, continuing where he had left off following his previous calamitous media appearances, but this time in the United Kingdom. His new plan, same as the old plan, was back in action, he was back on the road, back on tour playing in small halls in small towns to small audiences. Again.

After their initial discussion, Melissa had put out feelers to see whose help she could enlist, who was willing to take her calls in regards to her new client. But it was a short list, especially considering the damage WOLF news and the US right-wing media had done, even on these shores.

And it was slow going, travelling from town to town, Jesus doing 'his thing', as he often liked to say, visiting local media outlets and those who would accommodate her rather infamous client. And many of them asked her what she was doing, helping him. She could only reply that she didn't really know.

She was trying to rebuild his career to turn him into a superstar so that he could help change the course that humanity but she could hardly tell them that. It was slow going and Melissa wondered how long she could last doing this. She had a husband and family to worry about, to be there for. But wasn't the fate of humanity worth a few months of her time, a few years even if that's what was needed? Wasn't she fighting for them, for the future of the planet and for her kids? But what if it took longer, or it never happened?

She would give it a little longer and at some point they would have to address whether the plan was working or not. For the life of her though she had no idea what else they could do except carry on as they were. Joy.

### Chapter Eight

In which Melissa considers her position, Jesus changes the plan again, an unfortunate mistake is made, and then Jesus is crucified

A change of mind

Several months went by and Melissa continued to wonder whether she was doing the right thing by helping this man, if that was what he was, and why her help was needed at all. But she quickly came to understand that the son of God was pretty useless at doing anything at all and therefore needed to surround himself with competent people. Having talked extensively with Jeff about his experiences with God, she felt that she was getting a pretty rotten deal.

Jeff had shared an incredible journey with the deity, they had exchanged information and Jeff had been allowed to ask Him any questions that he wanted. And God had answered, even if not always in the most straightforward manner. Jeff was treated as a valuable resource that God was grateful to have. Jesus merely acted like a dick and treated everyone around him like crap. For some reason it made no difference to anyone except her. She showed him the contempt she felt he deserved while everyone else treated him like a God, which she supposed was close enough to the truth as to not matter. Not that anyone else knew that. Yet despite him acting like a dick, they treated him like a King!

She wasn't surprised that the right-wing US media had been able to bring him down, anyone spending more than five minutes in his company would be given more than enough evidence to do so, she thought, and the more time she spent with him, the more she came to understand what a shallow life, and what a shallow being, Jesus really was. She knew that losing his manager had been the real catalyst that had ended his career in showbiz in the US. The television network had merely acted as the trigger for what was surely going to happen anyway. And now, here she was trying to restart it in the UK, knowing that it would likely end the same way for they could think of no other plan. She thought that she must be mad.

Jesus Christ really had returned and he managed to constantly have a flock of sycophants surrounding him, despite keeping his divine providence a secret, who were willing to do whatever he asked them to do. Whether that was bring him food, plan his schedule, wash his feet, or share his bed, there were always those happy to oblige.

Then again she supposed that if anyone spent every moment of their existence being treated like the son of God it wasn't surprising to turn out like he had. Melissa wasn't sure whether she should blame God, Jesus himself, or the army of sycophants but that was all really beside the point. She had a purpose in this mission and that was what she should focus on. It was either that or walk out the door.

That Jesus' plan was now being carried out in Britain presented a problem. The British have a particular relationship with religion, one that is unique in all the world. Most Brits still identify as religious, despite that number being in sharp decline, and yet, to many of them, their religion is a very personal thing. Few preach, few proselytise, and not as many visit church as they used to, especially among the younger generations. And for someone trying to do what Jesus was trying to do this made matters more difficult. Rebuilding a reputation as thoroughly trashed as his would take time, even with her contacts and knowledge. And the fact that he was unwilling to change his behaviour didn't help.

Melissa was aware that she had undertaken this crusade as a way of dealing with what had happened to her during God's crusade. She sometimes wondered what she would do were she to get her hands on the creature that had ensnared, raped and tortured her. It wouldn't be pretty but then the demon deserved nothing less.

Once Jeffrey, God and the rather lovely angel, Sandalphon, had rescued here from said demon, they all had returned to their crusade leaving Melissa to deal with the fallout by herself. Oh, Jeffrey had eventually returned and she had moved on with her life but, in a way, she was still in that dungeon, still chained to that wall. Maybe she always would be but she hoped to find a little peace by helping with this quest. There was no other reason to be here, away from her family, putting up with all the bullshit that Jesus threw at her and everyone else each and every day.

The hope that this mission would help her hadn't lasted long. About as long as her respect, even her admiration, for Jesus had survived. When she learned that he had taken to bed four or five of his followers at once, that the right-wing media had actually reported the truth about him, her respect for the man had vanished. And this was simply the incident that she knew about, she was certain there had been many others. Before joining him on his crusade Melissa hadn't really given any thought to who the son of God might be. Now she knew he was a dick.

Jeff had talked, at some length, about his time with God and Melissa knew how much that experience had changed him. Now, she could see no way that this crusade would do the same for her. In which case, she wondered why she was still here, why she hadn't abandoned him yet. It could also be because they were trying to save the world. Maybe. She was stuck here because she had agreed to join him on this quest and didn't want to leave until the end, whenever that may be. Now she did what she always did in this situation. She called Jeff.

"Hello," he said, as he answered the phone. "Mel?"

"Yeah, it's me," she replied. "How'd you know you who it was?"

"Who else would be calling me? How are you, love?" he asked. Melissa paused before answering. She didn't really know what to say.

"That good, huh?" said Jeff, beating her to it. He really knew her that well.

"Yeah, that good."

"So, not well then?" Jeff asked, seeking confirmation of what he already knew.

"No, it's going fine. We're making progress. I still don't really see what the end game is, but we're moving along. But that's not the problem."

"What is?"

"Well, he is," Melissa said. "Jeff, he's a dick." At that Jeff laughed long and hard. Melissa had to hold the phone away from her ears until he was done.

"Well, God wasn't what I expected either," he finally said. "What, specifically, don't you like about him?"  
"He's a dick!" Melissa repeated. "He treats everyone around him like shit, he sleeps with every young bit of tail he can get, male and female, and, well, I just hate him!" Mel took a breath. "Jeff, he's an arsehole! There's nothing more I can say, just that."

"Right, well, that is something," Jeff replied. "But I guess that's what happens when you're the son of God, you become a rock star. Does it really matter?"

"Of course it bloody matters!" Melissa said. Then she paused again. Actually, does it? she wondered. "No, you're right. It doesn't matter, why would it? I'm here to do a job and I'll do that job and then I'll leave. I'm here for me, not for him."

"Then you don't have to like him, just work for him and it doesn't matter what he does."

"But," she said, searching for the right words. Then she added "But I wanted the experience you had. I wanted to enjoy working with him and to walk away glad that I had done so. I didn't want this!" she said.

"Look, Mel, it doesn't matter. If working for him helps you find some closure and the two of you are able to succeed where God and I failed and help humanity change its ways, then you'll be glad that you did. The rest will be forgotten in time." Dammit, thought Mel. Why did he have to be so bloody good at that? But she felt better and she was glad she had phoned.

"Thanks, love," she said. "Wish I was home with you and the boys,"

"Me too," said Jeff. "But you'll be home soon, yeah?"

"Yeah," she replied, not knowing if that were true.

"OK, gotta go, the boys need me. Love you!"

"Love you too!" Mel said, as Jeff hung up the phone. She sat in silence for several minutes, contemplating her situation. She actually did feel better but she was also now more resolved. She was also suddenly and terribly desperate to see her family. For several moments she sobbed into her hands and then dried her eyes and stood.

Now she needed to find Jesus, to discover what the next phase of the plan was actually what it seemed to be and to see how much longer she had to be involved with this awful man's crusade. She left her hotel room in search of the son of God.

A decision made in haste

It turned out Jesus's plan was exactly the same as it always had been; to build himself into a celebrity and use that fame to steer the course of humanity. There was no other plan for the son of God could not conceive of doing things another way and so the long, slow progress of rebuilding Jesus' shattered credentials began again. Yet with Melissa's help it was working, they could all see that and that gave them the hope to continue.

Besides the tour, they had had to start again with small, regional television shows but Jesus was a consummate operator, and he could be very charming on camera which helped. He even seemed to be enjoying himself and he was making appearances on smaller shows with an increasing frequency and despite the train-wreck interview sitting in the background, it was rarely mentioned and usually only in passing for these shows were actually intrigued by him and what he was doing. Jesus had had some intense media training that taught him how to deal with awkward questions and things began to gradually move in the right direction.

Jesus could also see that Melissa was doing a very good job, far better than his two previous managers. Even Alfred hadn't managed him this well and he was very glad that he had had the thought to seek out the human who had helped his father all those years ago. OK, so Jeffrey hadn't actually been any help but his wife was turning out to be quite a find, a consummate and skilled operator. Things were finally going well for the son of God.

And then he made his fatal mistake, the one that actually ended his television career more spectacularly than even WOLF news had managed. He told the truth about who he was.

It was during a random interview on some local news network when an innocent question was asked. There was no reason to say what he did and no justification for doing so and Melissa was left wondering whether it was just a slip or if it had been intentional, it had been so incidental.

"Well, that's what happens when you're the son of God," Jesus had replied to the question that hadn't been anything about that whatsoever.

"You're who?" asked the interviewer, clearly caught off guard and trying to clarify the point. In the green room, Melissa held her breath.

"I'm the son of God," he replied. "I am Jesus Christ reborn onto this world." Silence filled the studio. Clearly they were not used to having crazy people on this network otherwise they may have responded more rapidly.

"You're the son of God?" the interviewer replied, incredulous.

"I am. And I am here to retake my rightful place as the leader of your world." That point went down about as well as you would expect it to in England. The interviewers didn't actually know how to respond to such obvious lunacy.

"So, you're saying that you are the actually son of God. Jesus Christ as told in the Bible?"

"I am," said Jesus. "And I have come back to save you all." Silence filled the studio before spontaneous laughter suddenly erupted. Jesus looked a little irate at this. "Look, it's not that hard to believe, is it?" he asked his host, who simply smiled. "Dad visited this world not that long ago and so the arrival of His son shouldn't be outside the realm of possibility, should it?"

"That incident was largely discredited," replied his host. "It was found to be down to a variety of things, hallucinogens for one thing..." Jesus scoffed. He openly scoffed at this suggestion.

"And you all just accepted that, did you? My father visits your world, speaks to you all, and it is written off as a case of mass imaginings? That's absurd!"

"Well, they made a rather convincing case," replied his host, less convincingly. "And no-one ever heard that voice again." You shouldn't have left so quickly Dad, though Jesus. Look how easily they are swayed, once you are out of the picture. Not for the first time Jesus wonder whether he actually could have an impact on this backwards world. But he was still here, at least for now, and he had one final card to play. And the son of God was now going to play that card.

"OK, well, I actually am the son of God, He's really my father and now you need me to prove it right?" His host simply nodded in reply. "OK, let's go then." Jesus rose from the couch and walked directly over to the camera, facing into it and addressing the audience. "People of Earth," he said into the lens. "Here me now for I am the son of God. Record this message, pass it on, send it out to everyone you know, for I am here to save you from yourself and I'm going to prove it!" As he finished this sentence, a glow began to rise in his chest, spreading out into his arms, a divine light emanating from his mortal form.

That was when the power went out, pitching Jesus and all those around him into darkness. Bugger, he thought, they won't let me do anything!

He's done it again, thought Melissa; he's destroyed himself live on TV and all for nothing! After all our months of careful planning, of slowly building our audience, he's wrecked it with a few choice words. If he'd only told me what he intended to do we could've planned it for the biggest impact. Now she needed to find him and see what they did next, how they dealt with the inevitable fallout from his latest cock-up. She found him in the corridor on the way to the green room, torches flickering in the gloom.

"What were you thinking?" she asked him.

"That I was done with this approach. It's not going to work, it never was and I don't know why I thought it would. I'm not going to convince these people of who I am like this; it's time to try something more direct."

"And when did you decide this?" she asked.

"During the interview," Jesus calmly replied.

"You decided to announce that you actually were live on air?" He nodded. "You decided to undo all of our hard work, months on the road of slowly rebuilding your shattered media profile, while you were chatting to your host?"

"I did," he replied, nodding.

"You idiot," she said. Melissa had wanted to say something far harsher but she wouldn't do so in front of the staff, it would undermine her authority. Nevertheless, it struck home and Jesus looked stunned. No one spoke to him this way, not the angels, not his dad, not Metatron when he'd been in power. It simply didn't happen and so, when it did, it was all the more shocking.

"So, what do we do now?" Jesus asked. "And who shut off the power, anyway?"

"I don't know and I don't know," Melissa replied. "But does it really matter?

"No, I guess not," he replied. "Sorry." For the first time since meeting him, Melissa actually felt bad for him. He suddenly seemed to be out of his depth, to be making his plan up as he went, and to be hopelessly lost despite all he had no doubt seen and done.

"OK, look," she said. "Maybe it won't be as bad as all that, maybe there's still something that can be salvaged." Again, she thought. At this he visibly brightened, stooping less and standing up straighter. Sometimes she felt she was in charge of a puppy, not a man, that she was shepherding a particularly mischievous and randy puppy, such was her life. "I'll make some calls, we'll see where things lie and then we can figure out what we do next. OK?" Jesus nodded, again showing her his puppy dog eyes.

"Now, go back to your hotel room and wait for me to call." And then the puppy dog eyes were gone and he was back to being a sulking teenager. Is this what I have to look forward to, she wondered, when my two boys become get older? God I hope not. Melissa began dialling her contact to assess how bad things really were.

Not the intended audience2

The demon received the report after the fact but he was glad that the team that he had put in place had intervened and cut the power to the studio at the appropriate moment. Actually, watching the tape he could see that their timing had been perfect and he resolved to let them know that in person the next opportunity he had. It was always good to praise those under your command, especially when your business depended upon their efforts. The demon, being a demon, was also very big on loyalty and he knew that those who worked for him were very loyal. The powers that he had over beings like humans ensured loyalty but actually he looked after his minions and they did their jobs well, for that was how he liked to run his business.

Since watching the son of God being demolished live on TV the demon had taken something of a personal interest in Jesus' comings and goings. He had assigned a couple of his staff to keep tabs on him, see where and what he did next, and to inform the demon if anything occurred that might warrant his personal involvement. They were also instructed to watch his live appearances in case just such an intervention was warranted. In this case, there had not been the time to bring their boss in and so they had acted to half the transmission on their own initiative, as per his instructions.

Watching the footage he knew that they were absolutely right to pull the plug when they had. He would have done the exact same thing were he watching live and the demon was now very glad that he had dedicated several minions to this task. It felt good to continue to screw with those who had imprisoned him and had put him in the position of working for Metatron while working against God. Having said that, he was still a demon so it was actually just fun to screw with the son of God's plan!

Jesus' next brilliant plan

Things were exactly as bad as Melissa suspected. No one would take her calls and she now found herself unable to maintain the momentum that they had built up. As the weeks passed, their campaign collapsed in on itself and soon it was apparent that it was all over, yet again. And probably for good.

Jesus had wrecked his media career for the third and final time. Most of the team that Melissa had assembled promptly departed and she seriously considered doing the same thing. But, until she knew for certain that this thing was done, she could not do the same. Still, she knew that the end was rapidly approaching and she hoped that she would soon be able to return to her family, even if it meant that they had failed. First, she had to see Jesus and to confirm that they were indeed finished.  
Melissa found him in his hotel room. She also found several young, nubile girls with him. And one young guy. She kicked them all out of the room and made him find some clothing. He seemed to have an aversion to wearing clothing of any sort but she found some and he put them on.

"Right," she said to him. "I need you to tell me what your plan now is." Seeing as how you spectacularly screwed up, she didn't add. As he stood in front of her she realised she could see his erect member standing proudly through the thin, cotton trousers he was wearing. Clearly, she had interrupted him but she didn't care about this or his boner. All she wanted was to get out of here.

"I've been giving that some thought," he replied. "And I know that I messed up." Again, Melissa thought. "But I can do better than that," he said. "I can show you." Suddenly he grabbed her hand and lead her out of the room, his still erect penis leading the way.

Jesus walked Melissa down the corridor, into the elevator. They travelled down to the lobby, around the corner and into a large open space that was a part of the hotel complex. There were cameras and lighting set up around the arena. Clearly this room had been set up for an event and standing in the middle was an enormous, wooden cross.

"This is your plan?" asked Melissa. "You're going to crucify yourself?"

Jesus stood there with a great, big smile on his face.

"Why mess with a classic?" he replied.

Melissa tried to comprehend it but she couldn't quite believe that Jesus' brilliant new plan was to crucify himself. Then again, having spent the last few months working with him maybe it actually wasn't that silly and she could believe it. For him it was even a pretty decent plan.

"You're going to crucify yourself?" she asked. "I have that right?"

"Yeah, I am. Live on TV. It'll be the biggest audience of any televised event ever, even bigger than dad's address." Melissa had never gotten used to Jesus referring to God as his dad, though she knew that was their relationship. Still, it bothered her.

Now, with this brilliant new plan, she once again she set about trying to re-establish the contacts that Jesus had so spectacularly severed but none of them were interested, they shut her out. Even with the offer of his sacrifice no one wanted to listen, even Lucifer wasn't willing to help them having washed his hands of the whole thing. She couldn't reach Alfred either and she didn't blame him for not returning her call.

Finally, she had an idea, one that might work, that bypassed all of the news networks and might even bring them the ratings they needed. They would forgo the conventional media entirely and stream the crucifixion of the son of God live on the internet.

An inconvenient slip

Melissa didn't know how it happened only that it did and that it was over so quickly that she felt like she didn't even really participate. But it did and she did and there could be consequences down the road. But hopefully it wouldn't come to that if she were lucky.

Here's what happened. It was the night before Jesus was going to be crucified and Melissa and he were strategising the event. They had arranged a deal with a provider and they would be streaming live on the web. Someone had set them up with all that they needed: cameras and electronic equipment and all that was required to stream the live crucifixion of the son of God. And of course the cross. Melissa had learned that Jesus had found a website that had been able to provide the particular piece of paraphernalia. She wasn't sure how he had found it, only that he had, that he had ordered it and that it had promptly arrived. And now it was sitting in the room where the event would take place and Melissa found herself standing, starring at it.

It was such an odd item, filed with significance that seemed to impose itself on everything around it. But when you got right down to it, it was simply two pieces of wood fixed together in a particular arrangement. It wasn't the item itself that had presence, but what it represented.

And tomorrow Jesus would be fixed to it. He wouldn't be nailed to it for they had decided that was simply too macabre, but he would be roped to it and then left to die. Which he eventually would. In front of a, presumably enormous, online audience. For if there was one thing that people liked watching more than anything else, it was horrific and horrendous happenings. They just couldn't help themselves, they were unable to look away, it seemed simply part of human psychology.

So Melissa found herself starring at the cross, thinking about what they were planning, wondering what the hell she was still doing here and feeling sorry for the being who was choosing to put himself through this for humanity. And then it happened.

It was late, they had ordered and eaten take out and there was wine, oh there was wine. Around Jesus there always seemed to be free flowing alcohol. So they all had a few drinks, got a little tipsy, and one by one the remaining members of their team left, went home to their families, their partners, their lives. She had decided to stay here for there were still things to do and plan and tonight, unlike almost every other moment she had spent in his company, this evening she found Jesus charming. Before she knew it they were in bed and it was already over. At the time she had wanted more. Later she regretted that it happened at all. But it had.

When it was done it was never mentioned again. She and Jesus were unable to speak about what they had done. Actually, Jesus didn't seem to care all that much and she guessed that he saw no reason to mention it. Melissa didn't raise the subject because to do so would be to acknowledge that it happened. Which it didn't, as far as she was concerned. And that was that.

Except that was not that. Melissa wouldn't know for several months that those consequences that she feared would soon come to light. Then some thought would have to be put to what happened next. But not yet. For now she was still blissfully ignorant. That would not last and then things would change quite significantly.

Staying at home is also hard

Jeff was worried. Melissa had been gone for a long time, far longer than he had been expecting. He was concerned for her, for the effect that participating in Jesus' crusade would be having on her wellbeing. Also, he was missing her, the kids were missing her, they all wanted her home. But what could he do? He couldn't ask. She would come home when she was ready, when her task was done. Jeff knew how it worked, he had been where she was. During his mission with God, and Jeff still knew how crazy those words were, he would've helped Him for as long as was necessary. He would've stayed by His side for the rest of his days should he have to. But then again Jeff didn't have a wife and kids to worry about so he was just glad that it hadn't come to that.

He was trapped by the situation, as he knew that Melissa was too, all they could do was let things play out. Jeff also wanted to see if they could succeed where he and God had failed and he felt a personal stake in the matter. Could the son of God really beat his father at His own game? Jeff felt it was unlikely but then Jesus was a rather unique individual, like his dad, and Jeffrey found himself curious about their relationship. What was it like being the son of God? What was it like growing up, if he actually had grown up, knowing that your father was the creator of the universe and that you were created to be His son. That was some legacy to fill, huh?

Jeff wondered whether that was a part of the reason why Jesus seemed to be such a dick, why he treated those around him as poorly as he did. Melissa had also mentioned that Jesus was something of a nomad, drifting from world to world on his never ending mission. That's got to be hard, thought Jeff, living up to that legacy and trying to fill those shoes. For not the first time, Jeff was glad that his divine mission had been with the father and not the son and he now looked forward to Melissa being able to put this whole thing behind them, move on and forget about it. He hoped that it wouldn't be too much longer.

Jesus is crucified. Again

And so the day came that Jesus willingly crucified himself. But before he did so he needed to demonstrate his divine providence and to do so he directly addressed the camera, as well as the small number of reporters whom Melissa had managed to convince to attend. Their number was few but she hoped that, once coverage began, that would improve.

"People of Earth," he magnanimously began. "Some of you know who I am, some of you have heard of me. I am something of a celebrity and you have all no doubt witnessed my stratospheric rise and subsequent calamitous collapse. You may have already heard me say what I am about to tell you again, that I am the son of God!" He paused for dramatic effect. "I realise how this will sound to many of you out there, you will be thinking that this is the ravings of a madman. And I can see why you would be thinking this. But what I say is true and I shall prove it to you."

Jesus would now do the first of two things designed to demonstrate his divine providence. He would reveal his divine energy, live on camera, in the way that God had attempted to do during his visit to Earth when He had been shot by a priest with a high-powered rifle who was in the service of Metatron, the former incumbent in heaven. Then, at a later date he would perform another 'miracle' that would again demonstrate his divine providence. He was aware that he was now willingly doing what had been done to his father during His own visit to this world, sacrificing his flesh for humanity, but at least this was his choice.

Jesus shed his robe and stood naked in front of the camera. That man really doesn't like to be dressed, does he, thought Melissa. Then Jesus approached the camera and starred straight down the lens.

"I stand naked before you, shed of my clothing, to show that this is not a trick. There is nothing around me that could fake what I am about to show you so please believe me when I say that this is really me. Then he stepped back from the camera. He twirled around to demonstrate that there was nothing around him, his parts flapping wildly. And then he stopped and stood still.

A light began to shine from within his body. A bright and dazzling light that quickly filled the room. It was brighter than anything Melissa had ever seen and she had to cover her eyes as it reached peak intensity. Then it faded, leaving Jesus standing naked. He walked back to directly face the camera.

"My name is Jesus Christ, I am the son of God, the Lord Almighty, and what I do now I do to save you from yourselves." Jesus then began to climb the ladder to the cross.

Jesus was roped to the wooden cross. From now on this is where he would be. Plans had been put in place for most contingencies but Melissa's biggest concern now was whether they would manage to see this through. Once the authorities learned of what they were doing, and it was only a matter of time until they did, then an official visit would likely occur.

Melissa had put stalling tactics in place, including retaining the services of an impressively expensive lawyer who would be on hand during this process, and she hoped would these would be sufficient to delay them but she was unsure that she could prevent them from eventually forcing their way in. And what would happen then was anyone's guess.

She just hoped that by then it would be too late. And she knew that was an awful thought to have but that was her perspective for now. It was a ghastly thought that she was trying to facilitate a man's death, though she knew that he was not really a man and also that he was not really going to die, but it still felt pretty awful. Well, he was a man but only in body, his spirit would live on and be raised again, most likely on another world to repeat this fiasco. She didn't envy whoever helped him when he began his next mission.

She also worried about the ratings. They would be low, no doubt but hopefully they would grow. They had done what they could to promote this event in the run up but without the mainstream media to promote this insane show their approach had its limitations. She hoped that once said media caught a hold of what they were doing, and some contacts had provided her with a few names that could help with that, then things might take off in a dramatic way, that the ratings would climb and that they would reach a larger audience. That was the plan, anyway.

Melissa hoped that all of this would be enough, that what Jesus had done would be enough to convince people that he was who he said he was, and that he deserved their attention during this ordeal but getting the attention of an audience was tricky and with all that they were competing against she wondered whether someone sacrificing themselves for the good of humanity would even be enough. She doubted it but there was only one way to find out.

Melissa again felt pity for this being whose sole purpose seemed to be to die in the service of others. Not enough to sleep with him again, once had been bad enough, but she felt more sorrow for him than she had expected and that was making her job more difficult. There was nothing to do but be patient and see this thing out. She set about checking that everything they needed was in place as Jesus began speaking to the camera, informing anyone new to the show who he was and what he was doing in their name. There would be regular updates needed as this spectacle continued on in the days to come.

"I will now be here until the day that I die," he said to the camera, "I take this action to save humanity because you're all too bloody stupid to save yourself!." Well, that was a nice way to put it, thought Melissa.

A few hours passed and the first set of post-crucifixion ratings came in. They were decent and Melissa knew that what little coverage by the mainstream media they had gotten had helped, as had the fact they were streaming this event for free and Melissa began to wonder whether Jesus' plan actually had some merit, that maybe this idea wasn't so worthless. She also knew that the audience they were reaching would be different than the one they would've reached through the mainstream media and she wondered what effect that would have.

That he was killing himself in the service of his cause was harder to rationalise but the cause _was_ saving humanity. Sacrifices had to be made, she was just glad that the choice had been his.

Jesus had said that this part of the plan was his standard operating procedure and that he'd been through it all before. The difference this time was that he actually could decide the method of doing so. He could have even, had he chosen to do so, walked away. It was too late now, he could no longer walk away without sacrificing the cause, and it seemed he was sufficiently motivated to see it through, to die for humanity in the hope that it might change our minds and that we might take a different course than the one we were on.

Melissa was more concerned about the growing following that was gathering outside and on how their presence might complicate matters. The following he had already amassed, though it had dwindled in recent months, had once again boomed and Melissa wondered how many people were gathered outside. A lot, she thought, and she worried what they might do were they so minded. Her limited staff could surely not keep them out if they decided to come in and save him, nor could the small police presence.

She had brought in some private security, through some long standing friends since her University days, and they were managing to keep the peace so far but she couldn't actually see a way that this endeavour would ever reach fruition, the end point to which they were all working. She suspected that either the police or the crowd or some other random event would derail the entire thing but for now as before there was nothing to do but see but observe the proceedings, macabre as they were.

An unexpected guest3

Jesus had been up on his cross for several days now and matters were proceeding as expected. He was slowly withering away, getting weaker each day, and heading towards the inevitable endpoint, when he received an unexpected guest. Melissa escorted the man into the room, and then asked everyone who didn't have to be there to leave and watched as they did so. She wanted to give the son of God and his guest as much privacy as could be afforded and so she too left.

Jesus opened his eyes and looked down to see the face of his first manager eyeing him critically.

"Is it true," said Alfred. "What they are saying. Is it true?"

"Which part?" Jesus quietly replied. "Cause they've been saying a lot of things." Jesus smiled, weakly.

"That you're the son of God?" Alfred asked.

"Oh, that," Jesus replied. "Yeah, that's true. God's my dad." Jesus smiled as he said this and had an almost bashful look on his face. Alfred took a moment to process this information.

"Why didn't you tell me?" he asked.

"You wouldn't have believed me," Jesus replied.

"No, I wouldn't," Alfred agreed. "In fact I probably would've dropped you there and then and so I'm glad that you didn't." He paused before continuing. "But they tell me that it's true, that you've demonstrated it somehow and that this show that you're putting on," he gestured to his surrounding as well as to the cross that Jesus was fixed to, "this is all your idea? You're going to kill yourself in an attempt to convince people to change their ways?" Jesus lifted his head and nodded weakly.

"I am," replied Jesus, sheepishly. There was a pause before the reply came.

"How does this help?" asked his former manager. "How does this solve anything?"

"It's my thing," Jesus replied. Even he knew that this sounded weak but then this plan had been one of last resort and not of first choice and he already committed to it so there was no backing out now. "It's what I do," he continued, a little more strongly, "and it's not like I had any other options. Two talented managers, and a PR expect, tried their best to get me through the system but that system rejected me and my message. That left me with no other choice than to find a way around. And if I have to die to reach my audience then that's what I'll do."

"I wish you didn't," said Alfred, sighing. "I wish that I could've found a way to help you and that this sacrifice wasn't the cost of actually persuading people to stop being so bloody stupid!" Jesus thought he could see a tear forming in the corner of the man's eye but he decided not to address it. "Look, I can't stay, I have things to do. I just wanted to see you before you went and to wish you the best." Alfred paused, seemingly gathering his thoughts. "Not that that means much under these circumstances," he added. "Well, I hope it's not, you know, too painful. And I'm sorry that we weren't able to work together for longer, I really am." Jesus smiled.

"Thanks," he replied, showing a little humility. "That means a lot. I'm glad you came." Alfred smiled.

"Me too," he replied. And then he was gone leaving Jesus alone on his cross, feeling a little more deflated for the fact that his friend had left and that he would not be seeing him again.

### Chapter Nine

In which matters reach their inevitable conclusion, Melissa and Jeffrey attend a funeral, Jesus learns the results of his efforts and then returns to Heaven

Jesus has words to say

Jesus turned to look at the camera. He had been up on the cross for a long while now and, having ingested only water since then, he was looking very much worse for wear. Everyone was starting to wonder how much longer he could last.

"So, there are some things I should say before I go," he said to the camera. Melissa was standing in the background, behind the lens, as she mostly had been since this entire escapade began. She felt that she was suffering along with him, though obviously not to the same extent, but it was torture nonetheless and she wondered if all of her colleagues felt the same. "I need to make my case or there is little point to what we're doing. Right let me start at the beginning." He took a moment to compose himself before continuing.

"Are you people really this bloody stupid!" he suddenly yelled into the camera. At this point Melissa was glad that no one seemed to have found a way, or the jurisdiction, to shut them down but she was sure that they would have tried. The expensive lawyer must be earning his fee, she thought, and so were the security officers she had also hired. She also knew that if Jesus hadn't been able to speak at this point, when it was looking like he would soon die, then the entire thing would've been for nothing. He continued.

"You are screwing up your planet like no other civilisation I have ever met!" he said. "And I've met them all! I've been everywhere and seen everything but nothing like this. You are a truly impressive species, bright and intelligent and fiercely creative, but clearly you are also an incredibly dumb one. You know that your world is heating at a pretty damned scary rate yet you continue on with your lives as if time were on your side! You burn fuels that you know you should not, you dump plastics that you use once and will not degrade and you do not seem to care!"

"Time is not with you, you must change things now, right this second! And I don't mean your politicians or your political parties. Each of you watching must make the change! Switch to renewable energies, stop using plastics, find better ways to do things yourself! And if you're politicians won't listen to you because they work for the corporations and the rich then use your money to make the point that you want things to change. And get out and protest because there is no other way to make them listen!

"Because if you don't, then who will? Your world is collapsing, your wildlife is dying and soon and if you don't change, you too will die. You only have a short window in which you can save yourself and that opportunity will not last long. You cannot stay on the fence for much longer.

"This is why I am here, this is why I am chained to this cross and this is why I will die again, in the name of your survival. The only question now is whether you will listen. Will you do what you must to save yourself? Or will you too die?"

Silence filled the room. Melissa almost expected a spontaneous round of applause but that didn't happen and would've seemed incongruous given what they were doing. Instead, once Jesus had stopped speaking, there was no sound for some time as everyone in the room considered what he had said.

Matters proceed

The days passed, as they would, and Jesus' condition continued to deteriorate. Much to Melissa's amazement, the ratings steadily improved. Well, the internet viewing figures, which weren't quite the same thing, but then any money obtained from advertising wasn't the point of this venture. Reaching an audience was. And slowly but surely that audience was being reached. The money would help to meet the costs of this little venture, for which Melissa was very grateful, and maybe they might actually break even. They would have to wait to see.

Melissa began to wonder whether they might be successful in their aim to, if not convince the entire world, then to change the minds of those they were able to reach. She really hoped that was the case as she wanted to be able to walk away from this adventure feeling that they had achieved at least some of their aims. She needed that or otherwise it would all have been for nothing.

Later, as Melissa was watching, for there was little else to do but watch, Jesus turned to face the camera. He had a serious expression on his face and this worried Melissa. It usually meant that he was about to do something stupid.

"OK," he said to the camera, "time for the second reveal. As I have tried to say, not that anyone would listen, I am the son of God. Or did I say that already?

"Anyway, I have come to this world to help you but I have not been allowed to do so by those who control information flow. A bloody television network has prevented me from getting my message out." Melissa didn't think it was worth telling him that it was really his own actions that had given them the ammunition that they needed to end his career. "But what none of you know, what I have not been allowed to tell you due to forces outside of my control, is this: I _am_ the son of God." God, thought Melissa, he doesn't remember that he has already told them this part of the story, does he? But then he had been up on the cross for a while and his deteriorating physical condition was no doubt affecting his cognitive capacity.

"Seriously, I am," he continued into the camera, "and I'm going to prove it to you in a way that I haven't yet been able to do until now. Cameraman, you need to look at my body," he said to the person behind the camera. "You need to take that camera and whizz it around me, OK?" The camera nodded up and down in a visual sign of agreement and then slowly walked around the room, taking in Jesus on his cross from all angles. Finally, it returned to where it started.

"So, as you can see," he continued, "there is nothing around me, nothing attached to me and so we can agree that what I'm going to do now can't been faked. You can also see that my physical condition is not good, that I am dying. If we kept going like this I'd be dead in a day or two. But that's not going to happen. Instead I'm going to do this."

And then Jesus began to glow, divine light emanating from within his battered frame. The light that he had previously revealed expanded out from within his chest, filled his form and then flooded out into the room, filling it with light. Then it subsided and when the camera was able to focus on Jesus again it was clear that something had changed. His body had been renewed; he looked like he had just stepped onto the platform, and not as he had just moments ago.

"That was the Resurrection," Jesus said to the camera, "and now, we begin again."

Balls, thought Melissa on the other side of the room. This is going to go on longer than I thought. She again resigned herself to getting on with the job while wondering if she was ever going to actually see her husband and boys again.

Not the intended audience3

The demon was stood at the back of the room, watching events unfold. He was enjoying himself, he had to admit, and had been since the dossier asking him to investigate Emir/Jesus had arrived on his desk. From his involvement in Jesus' downfall to watching the son hop across the pond and recruit the wife of the man who had helped God during His time on Earth, it had all been tremendous fun. And now that fun was about to end with the death of the son by his own hands.

It all brought back fond memories of the mission he had undertaken for Metratron. Although it had ended badly, the mission had been fun, especially when he had Melissa, who was now standing not far from him, trapped in a basement. Those few weeks had been a particularly enjoyable escape from the mission. Forcing a human priest to terminate the human form of God had also provided a perverse pleasure that he had yet to repeat.

Now he again had a chance to mess with God and his family. It had taken him some time and considerable resources to find this particular location but now that he was here he knew it had been worth the effort. He had his phone in his hand, the number to ring his associate to get the power to this building shut down already keyed in, he was just waiting for the right moment to do so. Currently he was watching God's only son slowly die on the symbol that meant so much to the religious on this world and savouring the experience.

If he were to prevent the action Jesus was about to undertake from being seen by the audience they had gathered, then the moment to cut the power was fast approaching. He was aware that the online audience had steadily grown since Jesus had been roped to the cross and he hoped to end this just as it peaked. The demon knew that his job shouldn't be this fun, but sometimes it just was. Jesus was again about to use his divine energy to reveal his divine providence to his significantly increased audience and to refresh his mortal form and the demon was immediately right back during his last mission to this world. Forcing a human to serve him, as he had done then and was doing now, was such a delicious use of his abilities.

He moved his finger towards the dial button to give the order to the ensnared minion to kill the power but he found that he could not actually press the button. Something was stopping him from doing so, some force was holding him in place. He turned his head to see a shape in the shadows behind him.

"Who's there," he whispered. "Release me at once!" The Lord of Hell stepped from the shadows.

"No, I don't think I'll be doing that," Lucifer replied. "I'd rather this played out as it is."

"What are you doing here?" snarled the demon.

"Oh, preventing you from stopping God's son from doing his job," he replied. Lucifer could see from the demon's reaction that he knew who he was, as well as who was roped to the cross. "And I know that he'd rather you didn't stop him right now, as would I." The demon growled. He hadn't had to deal with this particular annoyance in some time, not since he was recruited by Metatron to join the Heavenly Armed Services, and certainly not since God had reclaimed his Divine Kingdom and the angel had returned to his side on The Committee.

"What happens now" asked the demon, still unable to move." Lucifer still held the demon with whatever force he had at his command. The room was filled with a bright light, which slowly receded and when he looked over the demon could see that Jesus had already restored his mortal form, hopefully confirming his divine province to his audience. The damage was now done and this endeavour would be continuing for a while longer. The force holding him in place vanished.

"You have made an enemy today, Lucifer," said the demon.

"Yes, well, that is a shame," replied the Lord of Hell. "But then the little power you had ended when Metatron lost control of Heaven. And I have also helped a friend." This was doubtless true, though Jesus did not know of any of this. And if the angel did not inform him, then he saw no way that the son of God would find out.

"Why did you stop me?" he asked Lucifer, genuinely curious.

"For the same reason I do anything," he replied. "Because it benefits me. The question before us is what happens now." The demon felt the tension upon him fade and he could once again move. "What are your intentions?" Lucifer asked him.

"To go back to my job and get back to my life," the demon replied. Of course he didn't need to add that he would not forget what Lucifer had done here and that he would be forever seeking vengeance, that was a given as Lucifer was no doubt aware.

"Good. Just remember, I still have the power to return you to Hell," Lucifer said. "And to my service, should I wish."

"Ah, but you won't do that," snarled the demon. "They don't know you are here, do they?"

"I would surmise that they are unaware of your location either," replied the angel. "One call to Sandalphon and that could change. I would suggest that you move on to some other world in the near future or you are likely to end up back in the custody of the Heavenly Armed Service. Consider yourself warned." And then the angel was gone, leaving the demon to decide what he should do next. He would not be leaving this world, of that he was sure, but an actual plan would take a little longer and some more thought.

Revenge against the Dark Lord would now be a priority of his, but it would doubtless take a long time and there was no real rush. He headed back to his office to consider his options and get back to his job here on Earth, while he could and for as long as he was able to do so.

The inevitable endpoint

Days passed and Jesus continued to deteriorate. Again. Soon enough, the point was reached where the end was near and everyone involved knew it. Walking into the room Melissa got an overpowering waft of unpleasant smells including old sweat, shit and piss. Since hoisting himself up there, Jesus had not come down from the cross and so an increasing stench was inevitable, despite efforts to clean him as best they could, but it had only worsened as the days passed.

Melissa couldn't quite believe that they had made it this far, that they had circumvented all the obstacles placed in their path and that the powers that be hadn't managed to pull the plug. She was sure they would've tried but somehow they had been kept at bay and the endeavour had reached a much further point than expected, she thought. And now we are at the end.

She walked the perimeter, avoiding the worst of the smell, and checked in with her remaining staff. Many had left, unable to stay in the presence of this dying man any longer and Melissa didn't blame them. It was a truly horrendous experience watching him die, even if it had been had been his choice. Actually, that didn't seem to make all that much difference, it was still god awful to watch, especially when you were in the room and not watching from distance over the internet.

Yet everything seemed to be proceeding as planned and, beyond a few minor technical glitches when the feed had almost gone down, there was precious little to do. Melissa was grateful, she was exhausted and wanted this entire experience to be over, to return to her family. She knew how heartless that sounded but it was the way she felt and there was nothing she could do to change it. She would be here for as long as she had to be, this was her therapy, she just hoped that the entire thing would end up worth the pain.

Jesus was ranting to the camera as he had been for many days now. There was a doctor standing by to assist in any way possible but the son of God had insisted on as little medical assistance as possible. He wanted this event to occur in the most natural way possible, as if roping yourself to a cross, broadcasting it onto the internet, and then waiting to die was natural. But that was the way that things were and no one would be allowed to interfere.

Having walked around and checked on everything, Melissa tuned into what Jesus was saying for a brief moment.

"...time that I was on the Rugal home world. Strange creatures, the Rugals, a kind of intelligent, spiky fungus, that enjoyed rolling around all over each other. Or maybe that was how they had sex. I had fun on that mission, nothing like being a fungus for a bit."

For a moment Melissa wondered about the life this being lead, the things he had done and the places he had been. She knew that she should truly be in awe of him, of this being who was willing to sacrifice so much in the name of others. She still wondered why it was she didn't feel that way, why did she think Jesus was a dick despite everything. She knew that a part of it was that he actually was a dick and that she had seen him treat those around him quite poorly. Of course, that didn't matter to his fans but for those who worked for him it was hard to deny. She also knew that it might just be that she didn't like him very much, that he was an unlikable person and that he was a creature of habit, someone very much stuck as he had always been.

Jesus continued to ramble into the camera. Now he was talking about the last time he was on Earth, the differences between now and then and the people that he met while here but Melissa wasn't listening. She was thinking about their unfortunate tryst and she couldn't quite shake the feeling that her time spent with this man would have very long lasting consequences. Soon enough she would be proven right.

And so, the son of God died for humanity. Again. It had taken a very long time, for crucifixion is a truly nasty way to go, and the son of God had effectively died twice, but finally the torture was over. He breathed his last, his body went still and it was done. Melissa wished that he had chosen a quicker and less painful means but the significance of crucifixion in his history and mythology of this world had overridden that desire and he knew that this would carry his legacy further than otherwise it would have done.

It had also allowed him an extended period in which to talk to his audience and to try to convince them of the righteousness of his cause. There was little doubt that the cause had merit, the only question was whether his audience agreed and whether they acted on this impulse.

Melissa knew that, by the end of his life, the audience had been sizable indeed. Jesus had spoken to a significant percentage of the population of the world and the videos of his performance, and of his rebirth, had clocked up impressive viewing figures on popular internet video viewing sites. So there was still hope that, despite nothing seeming to have yet happened, that Jesus' death might actually be the trigger for the change that was so desperately needed.

All she could do now was wait and see whether anything happened. Melissa still had things to do, including making arrangements for the son of God's funeral, but she now knew that her time spent on this project was nearing its inevitable conclusion and she couldn't wait to get home to her family. For she surely deserved a good rest after all that she had been through.

The funeral of yet another God

For the second time in his life as an atheist, Jeffrey attended the funeral of a major religious figure and, as with the last, he wondered how in the hell it was that he, and now his wife, had been caught up in all this religious mythological nonsense. Melissa was by his side and she was understandably upset yet he found that he was mostly very pleased to see her. Each time he had asked when she would be coming home the only reply she gave was not yet, that there were still things to do, but it would be soon and Jeffrey could not wait for her to return. And then suddenly she was home and he was as relieved as she was that it was all over and done with.

Despite having known that this was the inevitable endpoint for his plan, the death of the son of God seemed to have hit Melissa harder than either she or Jeffrey had expected. Jeff had experienced something similar when God had been 'assassinated' in London and so he understood a little of what she was going through. But then God had been a friend of his and Melissa had little good to say about His son. Actually, she'd been quite vocal about what a dick he was and had been. Despite this, his death had affected her and Jeff could see that she was hurting. He wondered how soon he should broach the topic. When they returned home, maybe? He had plenty of time to think about it and so decided to not think about it at this particular moment.

The funeral was very well attended. All of the staff who had been involved with Jesus' life during his time on Earth were present, as were a great many of the people that he had slept with. And that was a significant number for sleeping with people was one of Jesus' favourite things to do. It was even a fairly joyous affair, with people standing up to talk about how he had touched their lives, or their bodies, and afterwards everyone retired to a local pub and got drunk. Melissa thought that Jesus would've loved that part, had he still been here to see it.

As Jeffrey and Melissa walked into the pub, Jeff looked up to see a familiar face and it took him a moment to place him. The last time Jeff had seen this man was in the immediate aftermath of the assassination of God. This was the man who had fired the shot that had killed God's mortal form. And he'd been a priest at the time, though he clearly wasn't that anymore.

"Billy?" asked Jeff. The man looked up and took in Jeffrey's face for a moment. Then recognition struck.

"Holy shit!" he said, rushing around the bar to hug first Jeffrey and then Melissa. "Now yours is a face that I never thought I'd see again," Billy said.

"Me neither," replied Jeffrey. "Mostly because the last time I saw you I wasn't sure that you were planning on sticking around." Billy's head dropped at the mention of their last encounter where he had proceeded to get remarkably drunk in the shortest time possible and then infer that he was going home to kill himself. He had been in a very bad place at the time.

"Yeah, that was a dark time for me. It's not easy realising that you are the person who just killed the God that you worshipped, even if I had no say in the matter." Billy had been forced into the service of the demon who had come to Earth at the behest of God's former 'voice' and theirs was obviously a complicated relationship. The demon had put the skills Billy had learned during his time in the military to good use and this was also the demon who had abused Melissa.

"How'd you get through it," Jeffrey asked.

"Well, I left the faith after I lost mine," Billy replied. "I stayed drunk for a while and then, when I surfaced, I came to the conclusion that it really hadn't been my fault and that there had been nothing I could've done to change it." Jeffrey smiled, glad that his words had actually been heeded, even if it had taken a while. "And then I came here and I bought this place," he said, gesturing to their surroundings.

"This is _your_ pub?" Jeff asked, redundantly. "Nice!" And it really was nice, an old fashioned pub, full of wooden beams and character.

"Well, I'm glad that you're still here," said Jeffrey. "Wanna join us for a drink?"

"Sure, why not," Billy replied. He quickly returned behind the bar and poured them each a pint of bitter before joining them in a booth.

"Oh, this is Melissa," Jeffrey said, realising that Billy had never met his wife. "My wife and someone who has more than a little in common with you," he added, coyly.

"Yes," Melissa said, sipping her beer. "Both of us'd like to get our hands on that demon bastard! Then he'd learn a thing or two about pain." Melissa spat these words with venom and Billy looked stunned at her words, having forgiven himself for his actions long ago. Acceptance had obviously come more easily to the former priest.

"Got to you to, did he?" Billy asked. The look on Melissa's face said that he shouldn't enquire any further and that she hadn't yet dealt with what had happened to her, not entirely. "So, what are you guys doing in my neck of the woods?"

"Attending another funeral," Jeffrey replied. "This time for the son." It took a few moments for it to dawn on Billy as to what Jeffrey was talking about.

"Seriously?" Billy asked. "Having already buried the father, now you're burying the son?" Jeffrey nodded, taking a long swig of his beer. "How'd he die?"

"Nastily," replied Melissa. When she didn't choose to continue, Billy decided not to press the issue.

"What the hell did you do to get caught up in all this again?" Billy asked Jeffrey.

"Nothing that I can figure," Jeffrey replied, smirking. "They just seem to turn up on my doorstep, I just have that luck. Dumb, bloody luck!" he said. "It's just so silly, isn't it. First I meet God and you kill him," he said, indicating to Billy who nodded and then took a pull on his beer. "Then the son appears and drags us, well more specifically my wife, back into all of this ridiculous religiosity! I mean, what the hell!" Then Jeff began to giggle. He just couldn't help himself, it was simply all too bonkers. He continued to titter and Melissa and Billy joined him. Their giggling quickly turned into laughing before becoming a full-on hysterical fit.

Eventually, all three of them calmed down enough to speak. "But what can you do, eh?" Jeffrey added. "I think we all needed that, eh? Another beer?" he asked. Both Billy and Melissa nodded and Jeffrey wandered off the in the direction of the bar.

A few hours passed and Jeffrey, Melissa and Billy were now all exceedingly drunk. The conversation had been rambling and incoherent and exactly what was required for the occasion.

"Where do you think he is, right now, Jeff?" Melissa asked. "I mean, he died but he didn't really, did he, so where'd he go, do you think?"

"Probably back up to the Earth station," Jeffrey replied. "From how you've described him, he'll likely want to remain there so he can observe to see if his plan worked."

"Oh, that makes sense," she replied. Melissa felt that this somewhat negated his sacrifice, but then she and Jeffrey seemed to be the only ones who knew this, and neither was about to share this information, so maybe it didn't matter. He had also suffered greatly to get them to this point so there was that.

The other issue that Melissa needed to address was whether this entire adventure, her crusade with Jesus, had been worth it. She wasn't yet sure but she thought that it might possibly have been, that maybe this whole shebang had actually helped her heal from the torment she had suffered at the hands of the demon. If she could begin to put the entire thing behind her then she knew it would have been worthwhile. All it had taken was the appearance of the son of God and his crucifixion and death. Oh, and there was the still the matter of her little slip to potentially deal with. Eventually a conversation between her and Jeff would have to be had so that she could confess her sins. Jeffrey deserved at least that much.

There was also the little matter of her pregnancy but then Melissa didn't yet know about that. She would soon enough though. Eventually, when they decided that they had imbibed enough alcohol for the next week, Jeffrey and she stood to leave.

"Thanks for this," said Billy, as they each hugged him. "I think I needed it." Jeffrey would never have commented on it but, as he watched, a little tear ran down the former priest's cheek.

"My pleasure," he replied. "We'll stop by for a pint, next time we're in this neck of the woods," Jeffrey said. And he meant it to, they would.

"I'd like that," said Billy. They each hugged again and then Jeffrey and Melissa were out the door to return to their lives.

Like the father, the son too fails

Jesus eventually arrived back on the Earth station having died for humanity. Again. It had taken some time for the angels to gather his non-corporeal essence but eventually they managed it and they had reunited him with a mortal form that he recognised and was comfortable with.

Well, if that doesn't do it, he thought as he settled into his new body, I don't know what will. After he was comfortable, had bathed and dressed, he then went in search of Sandalphon. It had been a few days and he wanted to see the results of his efforts and enjoy that his death had saved yet another species from destruction, to revel in his moment of success as he had so many times before. Soon enough he would return to the central office in the Heavenly Realm to check in with his dad and, hopefully, to bask in the glory of succeeding where his father had failed but for now at least he would be staying here.

Jesus knew that he shouldn't be competitive with God; it wasn't like he could actually beat his dad at, well, anything really. But that didn't stop him trying. He couldn't help it. All sons wanted to surpass their fathers but how could anyone surpass God? He had spent a ridiculously long time attempting to do just that but had not yet found a way. That wouldn't stop him from trying though.

He wandered into Sandy's secretary's office, refusing to follow procedure and wait for an appointment, and straight through into the angel's office. As usual there was a meeting in progress and Jesus found a seat to wait for them to acknowledge his presence. Most things stop for the son of God but, surprisingly, they on continued until the meeting's natural conclusion rather than rounding up as quickly as possible. This was odd and Jesus wondered what it meant. Eventually the room emptied and he and Sandalphon were the only beings left. He continued to wait to be told the good news but Sandalphon said nothing. And so Jesus, for the first time in his memory, was required to ask.

"So, it worked, right? It always works, so of course it worked, right? Tell me the Earth situation is now resolved and I can return to Heaven to enjoy my success?"

"It didn't work," said Sandalphon. "At least it doesn't look like it did."

"Good, I'm glad," said Jesus, not hearing what the angel had said. He stood to leave. "Guess I'll be on my way then. Wait, what?" he asked as his brain registered what had actually been said. "Did you just say that it didn't work?" Sandaphon nodded.

"Early indications, and they are early indications, say that you have reached a large audience and that they heard you. But you didn't tell them anything they didn't really already know. So, most likely, it didn't work, and nothing has changed. We will have to wait for more data, and things may improve, but so far the trend is not looking good."

"Really? That's, well, that's odd." The angel nodded again. "But it always works." Jesus sat back down in this chair. "Why didn't it work?"

"It will take some time to assess the situation more fully, but it seems that a counter argument has emerged. There's a popular theory that the whole thing was faked, that you didn't really die and that it was all just a stunt. The people who are doing this are highly skilled and it is likely that a great deal of money has been expended through what is known as social media to disprove your providence. More data will need to be gathered and we shall await the results. Maybe I shall be proven wrong."

"What the?" Jesus said. "It was all filmed live, we showed that there was no trickery. What is this nonsense?"

"What can I say, humans are difficult. And possibly stupid." From his brief time spent on that world, Jesus would have thought that he would have agreed with this statement. He knew that humans were indeed difficult but he wasn't so sure about the stupid part. He had encountered many different people ranging from the dumb to the incredibly smart and every shade in between. Humans came in a wide spectrum and, actually, Jesus thought that this diversity was one of their greatest strengths.

Jesus had lived lives of varying lengths on dozens of worlds all throughout the universe and had not yet found a species more interesting or complex than the humans. Not the reptilian species of Costrax V, nor the creatures that lived in the nebulae of the ARXVIIV system, or the squid like beings that inhabited the water world of Moisteau. All of these were unique and distinct but they were also more uniform throughout their species. They thought alike and behaved alike and humans, on the whole, did not do that. They revelled in their uniqueness, in their individuality, and Jesus thought that was probably a good thing.

As he thought about it some more Jesus realised that he didn't think that humans were stupid. He had lived among the far stupider beings on the world of the Brastive Planetoid. They would believe almost anything that you told them which actually presented a moral quandary to the angels. How far should they steer the civilisation of such a gullible species when the aim was to civilise, not to manipulate and control. That species alone had provoked many heated discussions in meetings of The Committee and its associated sub-committees and resulted in a great deal more bureaucracy being created so as to carefully monitor them without interfering too much. Such was the life of the angels.

But the humans were not like that species. The humans were difficult and sarcastic and belligerent and easily lead by those who manipulated them. But they were not stupid. The more that Jesus thought about it the more he felt like he was edging towards making a decision. And this was not something he did lightly. Or particularly quickly. No, Jesus was more the sort to sidle up to a decision and stare at it for a while before deciding whether or not that was the choice for him. But he was definitely close to changing things, to taking a different approach. And the longer he thought about it the more certain he was that something had to give, that he needed something more than what he currently had.

Jesus turned back to the angel who had been patiently waiting for him to speak. "You're wrong," he said. "They're not stupid. They're misguided and pig-headed and a little foolish but they're not stupid." Sandy was impressed. This was a surprising level of eloquence from the son of God and it was more than he had been expecting. "And I find that I like them more and more. Also, I've come to a decision." This was also not something Sandy had been expecting. Jesus was not known for his decisiveness. "I'm going to take a vacation. I think it's about time."

Now the angel was truly surprised and a little impressed. He had been of the opinion that Jesus had been working too hard for a few millennia and that he really needed to take a break. He suspected that his missions, especially the part where he died in the name of the species he was trying to save, were very hard on him but Jesus was the sort to soldier on, never pausing to wonder whether he should stop to catch his breath. Or what the effects of not doing so might be. But it was not Sandy's place to steer Jesus towards a decision. Now that the choice had been made, though, he was free to comment.

"I think that is an excellent idea," said the angel. Jesus smiled a big, broad smile. "Do you know where you will take this vacation?" Jesus' smile remained on his face. Then it hit Sandy. "You're going to take it here, aren't you?"

"Yes, I am," the son of God replied. Shit, thought the angel. This is going to make my life much more difficult for the son of God is not known for quietening a situation down. "But first I'm going to return to Heaven to talk to my dad. I think it's time that He and I had a chat." Sandy smiled. He knew that God had spoken to His psychiatrist several times about the need to repair his relationship with his son and now it looked like that might finally happen.

"That too is an excellent idea." The angel stood and escorted Sandy out of his office. "Why don't you return to your room and I will have my secretary make the necessary arrangements for you. Shall I meet you at your quarters in, say, an hour and I shall escort you to the departures lounge?" Jesus smiled.

"I'd like that," he replied. And then they parted ways, Jesus heading to his quarters and the angel back to his desk to continue his work.

Chapter Ten

In which Jeffrey is reunited with his wife, a secret is revealed, some time is spent pondering, and then the son of God returns to Earth for a vacation

Jesus returns to Heaven

Jesus had made a decision, a life-changing choice. And now he just needed to tell his father and the Heavenly Armed Services. To do this he needed to return via the transit system and so Sandy booked him a seat and escorted him to the terminal. They hugged and said goodbye and Jesus found that he was somewhat moved by the occasion. Unfortunately, he also found that he was really quite unhappy that his mission to Earth had resulted in failure. He couldn't remember the last time this had happened and actually didn't want to spend too long thinking about it, it was just too depressing. He thought that maybe he needed some company and, just as he was about to summon an angel, he changed his mind. The last thing he needed right now was company. No, time spent alone was what was required.

Jesus couldn't remember the last time he had spent time by himself, nor the last time he had chosen to do so. The son of God was always surrounded by people for that was just the way he liked it. Except right now he didn't. Nor did he want any alcohol, also a first for him. He usually had a beverage of some sort in his hand, this was just his normal state of being. And to round out the trinity Jesus also found that he did not want to get laid. And, with a track record as impressive as his, this was indeed a very strange state of affairs to find himself in.

Instead Jesus sat by himself and thought. He thought about the life that he had led and the choices that had brought him to this point. He did not regret any of them, for he was not the sort to regret his choices, but instead he recognised that it might be time for a change. A change in attitude, a new approach to his lifestyle and a new direction for the son of God. In short, it was time to mature. After many millennia of acting like a child Jesus was finally going to grow up. But not all at once, you understand. It was going to take some time and he was nothing if not patient, he told himself, very much in contradiction of the evidence. First, he would see his dad and tell him about his decision.

As he thought about all of this a familiar face appeared between the curtains separating him from the other passengers. It was the angel who had been his company on the flight out. What were the chances, Jesus wondered. The angel saw him and then disappeared back through the curtains. Jesus stood and chased after him, brought him back and sat him down in the seat next to his. The angel squirmed in his seat, doubtless concerned as to where this conversation was going to go and to the work that he should no doubt be doing.

"Relax," Jesus said. "Don't worry, I'm not going to ask for anything from you. I just want to talk." The angel relaxed. "Look, what's your name?"

The angel looked genuinely surprised. The son of God had not been interested in this information when last they had met.

"Nuriel. My name is Nuriel."

"Right, that's good. Look, I wasn't fair to you the last time we met. I acted like a dick and for that," Jesus took a deep breath. "I'm sorry," he added. He even tried to sound like he meant it which, in a way, he did. Mostly.

"That's OK, I guess," said Nuriel. "It's not like I minded providing you with company, I mean, you are His son. Making me run around so much and treating me like a bitch wasn't nice though." Jesus smiled bashfully at that, conveying a little regret. Only a little though. "My boss was pissed that I didn't go my work and would it really have hurt to have asked my name?" Jesus knew that the young angel was right and that he had been mistreating those who put their faith in him for a long time. He knew that now was the time to correct this mistake.

"You're right," Jesus said. "Despite that, I actually would like your company for the rest of this flight. Would that be OK?"

"You'd have to clear it with my boss," said the angel, "but of course I'm OK with it!" he practically yelled. As if on cue, the angel's boss appeared through the curtains. A look of annoyance quickly disappeared when he saw Jesus sitting there.

"Anything I can get you?" he asked Jesus.

"What would you like," Jesus asked his companion who momentarily looked uncomfortable and then saw the opportunity in front of him.

"Some more bubbly would be lovely," he replied. "I really enjoyed the last bottle." The boss angel grimaced, nodded his head and then returned with a bottle, which he opened, and two glasses. He poured a glass and handed it to Jesus, who gave it to his companion. Then he dismissed the boss angel, who he would be summoning again for anything else they needed. The angel turned and marched back through the curtains.

"I hope he doesn't give you too much grief later," Jesus said. "Let me know if he does, I'm sure I could help. So, we're good?" he asked the angel.

"Of course we're good!" he enthusiastically replied. "You're making my boss work for us and I'm on a first name basis with the son! That's awesome!" Jesus settled back into his seat to enjoy the company of another being for the rest of the flight. This was a novel experience for him but he found that it was nice. With a little alcohol, of course, there was no need to change too much, after all. Maybe he really was beginning to mature, only time would tell.

Jesus arrived back in the Heavenly Realm and proceeded directly to the office. He didn't even return home as he usually did. He wanted to see his father as soon as possible, he _needed_ to see his father as soon as he could. He rode the elevator up to the floor that his dad's office was on, the bigger and better office that he had taken since reclaiming his power though one that was obviously still in line with the image He was trying to project as benevolent ruler.

Jesus found that he was happy for his dad, having found a little of his mojo again. Still, he had been looking forward to enjoying his moment of success at his dad's expense and now that was gone. Oh, well, he thought, I guess I can learn to live with it. He arrived at the door to his dad's office and paused at the entrance. There was a meeting in progress, which froze. God looked up at his son. The door then opened and his father's head poked out.

"Son, we're a little busy here," God said.

"I see that," said Jesus. "Carry on, don't mind me. I'll be out here," God was genuinely surprised. This wasn't like His son at all, who usually behaved like a spoiled child around Him, and actually He could see that Jesus looked a little, well, different.

"Everything OK?" he asked.

"Sure, sure," replied Jesus. "Go back to your meeting, we'll talk afterwards." God has a puzzled look on His face as He returned to the room, closing the door behind Him. He rounded it up as quickly as He could, aware that He shouldn't do that, but worried for his son and dismissed the attendees. Then He asked His secretary to bring Him a pot of tea and two cups and decided to see what could be done to help His son.

" _Are_ you ok?" he asked Jesus.

"Um, no, not really," he replied. "The mission's over, it's done, but, well, I failed. It didn't work, at least it doesn't look like it did. The humans are carrying on their path regardless of my actions." There was a pause in the conversation while God's secretary brought in the tea and then they continued talking.

"I know how you feel, son, I've been where you are and it sucked."

"But this has never happened to me before," said Jesus. "Well, not for a long time anyway. I can't even remember when that was it's been so long!" God felt sincerely sorry for his son.

"Look, son, it's not your fault," God said. Jesus stared at him. "You tried and you can't blame yourself for the ignorance and belligerence of the humans."

"I know that, dad," Jesus said tersely. "It's their damned fault. They are an impressively stubborn species and I guess, if neither you nor I are able to get through to them, then they are truly screwed. But at least it will by their own hands and there's nothing more anyone can do about it." God was glad that His son seemed to have come to the same conclusion that He Himself had.

"I also wanted you to know that I've come to a decision," Jesus said. There was another silence of the kind that Jesus seemed to so enjoy. Maybe he's still trying to be dramatic, thought God. Or maybe he's just thinking things through. Eventually he continued. "I'm going back to Earth," Jesus concluded.

"Look, son," said God, "I don't think that's a good idea. There's nothing you can do now to change that situation anymore. You gave it your best shot but, like you said, the bloody humans are just too stubborn."

"That's not why I'm going back," Jesus said. God paused, genuinely surprised.

"Then why?" He asked.

"I need a vacation, I need a rest. I'm tired, I'm really, really tired. And when I took over the body of the man I merged with I widowed a lady and left her children without a father. And I know I've done this before but this one really bothered me. I think I want to try to make it up to her. If I can. If she'll have me." God was impressed. This was an impressive display of maturity from His son, more than he could remember in, well, ever. Maybe Jesus _had_ grown during his mission. Stranger things had indeed happened.

"Well, you've certainly earned a rest, my son. I don't think anyone'll object."

"Oh, I wasn't asking," Jesus said. "I'm going and that's all there is to it." Clearly, his son hadn't changed all that much. God nodded. "But before I go, why don't we go and talk to that friend of yours?" For a moment God wondered who his son was talking about and then realisation struck.

"Oh, really?" He asked. Jesus nodded.

"Yeah, I think that might be a good idea. For both of us. I think we need to," God agreed.

"OK, I'll book us an appointment," God said. "And once we've had that you can return to Earth and take your time about coming back." If I want to come back, thought Jesus. For the first time he actually didn't know if he would want to return to Heaven. But then a couple of decades on Earth might change his mind about that. He stood and God did the same. Then they hugged and God was glad for it. Jesus was too, not that he'd ever admit it.

"OK, let me know when the appointment is. And, when I'm on Earth, if you're in the neighbourhood and feel like stopping by?" Jesus said. They both knew that was unlikely to happen but it felt good to say the words anyway. Jesus smiled at his father and then walked out of His office to wait for the chat with his father's psychiatrist where they would begin to work on their relationship. He knew that this would take some time but for now he was glad that they had resolved to begin for that was a start. After that he would return to Earth and begin to mend the relationships that he had broken during his mission.

God and His son work on their relationship

And so Jesus and his dad sat down with the angel psychiatrist who God talked to and began to work on their relationship.

The angel could barely believe it when her friend Sandalphon had informed her that God needed someone to talk to and that he had recommended her. She could barely believe it when God had then booked an appointment. Then when He actually showed up He presented her with an enormous problem for how in the hell do you care for the mental wellbeing of the creator of the Universe, as well as your own creator. Where do you even start?  
Well, she had started at the beginning as all good things should. She had asked God to explain, in His own words, the events that had lead Him to this point. First He had talked about His recent trip to Earth, which had lead to Metatron's agent assassinating His mortal form and the resultant stand-off with His former 'voice'. Then He had talked about His troubles with The Committee and how He had lost His power but also about how He now had it back. Finally, He opened up about the struggles He went through everyday simply being who He was and how the pressure of everything had led to what she thought of as a breakdown, of the horrors He had inflicted on mortal beings, particularly the humans, who He found to be incredibly frustrating to deal with and how He had attempted to cope with all of these issues. Badly, it would seem.

The upshot of all of these recent events and of Him now, once again, being in charge of Heaven was that He was trying to do the best job that He could but that He needed support and He really needed someone to talk to, that much was obvious from the first meeting. So she had agreed to schedule some more sessions and to attempt to grapple with God's considerable baggage. She explained that there was no guarantee that she could help but that she would try and that, over time, she may be able to help Him. But an entirely unexpected element had also been thrown into the mix. His son.

Now that Jesus had joined them and she had no idea how this would affect their sessions. One thing was certain though; it would not make things simpler.

God and Jesus were sitting on two opposing sofas. Jesus was relaxed and laid back, whereas his father was upright with his hands on His knees, nervously twitching. Neither had said much since entering the room and she could detect considerable tension between the two. And now the angel was faced with a problem. How exactly was she supposed to do deal with the fact that she are trying to help the son of God, as well as God Himself, and attempt to mend their fractured relationship. She honestly had no idea.

It was well known in the Heavenly Realm that the Father and son had a tempestuous relationship as was the particular set of neuroses that Jesus suffered from. Issues of insecurity, wanting to succeed where his father had failed, as well as the cumulative trauma that came every time a mission ended. The angel had shared many an evening with other psychiatrist friends where they had, for fun, analysed this particular pair. But it was one thing to joke about it; another thing entirely to have them sitting in her office and actually wanting her help. So she started at the same place that she had started with God. The beginning.

"Jesus, do you mind if I call you Jesus?" she asked nervously. He nodded his assent. "Let's start with the events that resulted in you coming to my office, today."

"Well, that's my dad's fault," Jesus immediately replied. "I wouldn't be here if it wasn't for him." She thought that a truer statement had never been uttered. She wondered about Jesus immediately blaming his father.

"What do you mean?" she asked.

"Well," he replied. "I wouldn't have come here today if he hadn't asked." Right, well, that had not been what the angel had been expecting to hear next.

"Truly," Jesus continued, "I'm here because I've come to realise that I need some help, I need someone to talk to and I need to repair many of the relationships with those who are important to me but that I have neglected for far too long." The angel was more than a little stunned. God was also surprised for though He knew that both He and His son needed to work on many of the things that were just mentioned, He hadn't expected Jesus to show such self-awareness. The angel had been told that was not one of his strengths.

"Good, that's good," replied the angel. "This is good. Look, I've taken a look through the psych profile provided to me by the Heavenly Armed Services and I can see that I have a lot of work in front of me and so I'd like to book you both in for some regular sessions. I think we'll be able to get to the root of these problems, given some time." Probably more than a bit, thought the angel, but she didn't want to say that. "How does that sound?"

"Good. That sounds good," replied Jesus. And it really did. He was even looking forward to the idea of getting his head back into some sort of order, of straightening out his many neuroses. But he also knew that this was going to take some work and a lot of time spent with his dad and with this angel. Oh, well, he thought, what else are vacations for?

The local perspective

Since the funeral Jeffrey had been watching the coverage of Jesus' death and impact on the news. Melissa had chosen to remain in post until the bitter end and beyond to round up his affairs such as they were and Jeffrey respected her decision, but that didn't meant he had to like it. He wanted her back, he needed her home, she had been away far longer than anyone expected, and he had had enough of living without her. So had the kids. Unfortunately, as with Jeffrey's own crusade with God, the impact of Jesus' sacrifice on the world appeared to have been negligible. Jeff began to wonder what it would take, how hard would humanity have to be pushed before they began to act. One day he hoped to find out and he thought that day was surely fast approaching.

Finally the day came when Jeffrey opened the front door to find Melissa standing there. He had of course seen her at the funeral but she had not yet been ready to come home. She stepped into the house, dropped her bags on the floor and they embraced. Neither knew how long they remained that way and it was some time before they were discovered by their children who had been upstairs playing videogames. Then Melissa held her children for as long as they would allow before wriggling away.

As Jeffrey sorted through her laundry Melissa ran a bath and then bathed. Then she and Jeffrey made love and, as she lay in his arms enjoying the feel of his skin against her she considered, the journey she had undertaken. Melissa was unbelievably grateful to return to her husband and children and to her life following a far longer spell away than expected; nor had she known how much the experience would've taken out of her. It was supposed to have been therapeutic but that had backfired in spectacular fashion and she was not yet sure whether there had been any real benefit from this adventure for her. She would need more time to think about it before she came to a decision.

And she still had to decide whether to talk to Jeffrey about what had happened with Jesus while they were on tour together. Melissa felt guilty for said actions and she knew that she likely needed to talk to her husband soon. Her conscience needed salving and, were she actually pregnant, then they had a decision to make together.

Melissa was actually surprised at how well Jeffrey and the children seemed to have coped without here. She wasn't sure whether she should be impressed by this or not but she was anyway. Right now she was simply glad to be home and back to her life.

An awkward revelation

A few days passed and the more she thought about it the more Melissa realised that she should tell Jeffrey what had happened while she was away. There was no longer any choice.

"Jeff, sit down. We need to talk," said Melissa. Uh-oh, Jeff thought. Those are never good words to hear. They are usually followed by other, more painful words. He did not want to hear the words that came next, the painful ones. Regardless, Jeff sat. Melissa continued to stand, pacing back and forth in front of her husband.

"OK," she said. "OK, OK, OK." It seemed that she was actually not. Jeff remained seated, waiting for her to speak, giving her the space that she needed. Time ticked on and, eventually, he decided to intervene.

"Honey-" he began, but was quickly cut off.

"Jeff, don't speak. Just let me find the words." He closed his mouth and waited to be told what this was all about. "OK, I've been away for a while and for that I apologise. I didn't know exactly what I was signing up but then we both know that I would've agreed anyway. I needed something to help me get past what was done to me and this seemed to be it." They had talked this issue through many times and Melissa had made some, admittedly, slow progress with her psychiatrist but trauma of the nature that she has suffered took a long time to process. Jeff had been hoping that she would return having made a breakthrough but that did not seem to be where this conversation was going and he had no choice but to let her continue. She did so.

"Look, the reason I need to talk to you is this." Melissa took in a deep breath and seemingly found the courage to say the words that needed saying. "I'm pregnant." There, she thought, I've said it now, it's out, no taking it back. Jeff smiled.

"That's wonderful," he said, standing from his chair. "How far along?"

"Three months," she replied. And there it was, the reason she was so upset.

"But that falls when you were away."

"Yes," she said. Only yes. Jeff's world fell away beneath him and he sat back onto the waiting chair.

"I don't understand," he said. And then he did. "It's not mine?"

"No," Melissa said bluntly.

"Then who's?"

"Who do you think?"

"Oh, no," Jeff said. "Not him." He wanted to scream, he wanted to rage and he wanted to hate his wife. For all of about five seconds. Then he didn't. "What happened?" he asked.

"The usual stupid story. We were on the road, exhausted and we got drunk. He can be charming when he wants to be. Before I knew what was happening it was over and I felt terrible. I didn't mean it to happen, it just did, and I didn't have a chance to do anything about it. I wanted to ignore it, pretend it never happened. Now I wish that I'd had more sense."

Jeff didn't know what to think, didn't know how to deal with what he had suddenly been confronted with. His wife had been knocked up by the son of God! It was so far outside of even his considerable experience. Except that it wasn't. His previous experience helping God meant that this was squarely in his territory and he knew it.

"It doesn't matter," he said. Melissa looked confused and then relieved. "Whatever happened, happened and it doesn't matter. I love you and that's all there is to it. We'll manage this too."

Melissa didn't think that she ever loved her husband as much as she did in that moment. She leaned over and kissed him.

"OK," she replied. And she knew that he was right, that they would find a way though. And if they ended up raising a child of Jesus Christ then so be it. Actually, it fit quite nicely into the narrative of their lives.

Time to think

Jeff was sitting in his study moping. He knew that was what he was doing and he didn't care. He needed time to digest what he had been told, time to deal with the consequences and this was where he did his serious thinking. When they had found the house they lived in Jeff had insisted on dedicating a room as a study. He said that he needed somewhere to conduct all the business his foundation required and he did. But Melissa also understood that he liked to have somewhere that was his, where he kept his stuff. This was a man thing and she accepted it as such. This was little point in doing otherwise.

Now, Jeff was sitting with a whisky in his hand and trying to come to terms with the fact that his wife was pregnant with someone else's child. And not just anyone else, the son of God's child. He would shortly become the parent of the child of a full-blown religious icon. How the hell did he square this with who he was and what he did? He had no idea, but he also knew that had little choice but to do so.

This child would be his in every way that mattered and he would absolutely love him or her as if they actually were. But he also knew that one day a difficult conversation was going to be had. A conversation where his child discovered who their biological father actually was and there would be consequences when they did. Jeff had no idea what said consequences would be but they would doubtless be interesting. And possibly dangerous.

Shit, what had they gotten themselves into? Jeff should never have let Jesus into his home, he knew it had been a mistake as soon as he had done so and look where they were now.

Jeff sat and drank his whisky and tried to reconcile all of these thoughts with who he knew that he was. It would not be easy and it would take a while but eventually he knew he would come to terms with it. While he was sitting, moping, Jeff received an email. It was from God and He wanted to talk. Jeff sent back a quick reply saying that would be nice and then continued to mope until the phone rang.

A short time later, the phone rang. It was God. Jeff had not directly spoken to the deity since He had left Earth though they had been communicating by email. Thus, Jeff had learned the details of the reconciliation between God and Lucifer and of the reformation of the rules of Hell that had made the situation there much more tolerable for everyone involved. God had also explained how much things in Heaven had changed since He had reclaimed control of His domain and Jeff had been glad of every update that he had received. But he was not looking forward to this conversation. Jeff picked up the receiver.

"Hi," he said to God, feeling like he was back where this whole adventure had begun.

"Hi," came the awkward reply. "How are things?"

"They've been better," said Jeff. Then he delicately explained to the deity what had transpired during Jesus' visit.

"So my boy's done it again, has he? He's gone and got some native pregnant. That bloody boy is uncontrollable. Who's the lucky girl this time?" God asked.

"My wife," replied Jeff. Every now and then a moment in your life illustrates why a cliché is a cliché and at this particular moment the silence from the phone was truly deafening. It could've filled an arena with noiselessness.

"Oh," He said, eventually. "I'm sorry to hear that." There was another long, awkward pause before God continued. "So, who is she?" God asked.

"Do you remember the girl we saved from that demon when you were on Earth?" Jeff replied. "Her. Melissa, her name is Melissa."

"Yes, I remember," He said. "You married her?"

"I did," Jeff replied. "Many years ago. We now have two children, two boys. Nathan and Alexander."

"That's great," said God. "And I hear that things are going well with your foundation."

"Keeping tabs on me, are you?" Jeff said, a little too forcefully.

"More like taking an interest," He replied. "That's why I had your phone number to hand." It hadn't occurred to Jeff to ask about that.

"So, my son has impregnated your wife?" God asked, seemingly wanting to be sure that He understood the situation. The image of that act flashed across Jeff's mind, something that he had managed to avoid until then. It was a painful moment.

"Yes, he has," Jeff replied.

"Look, I'm not going to ask the how's or the why's, to me that doesn't matter. What matters is what happens next. What do you want to happen next?"

"Well, we're going to keep the baby," Jeff said. "I don't even want to consider the alternative."

"That's very good of you," He replied. "Others in your position have not done the same thing."

"How many others have been in my position?" Jeff asked, genuinely curious.

"Many," God replied. "Far, far too many. But that's not the worst part, this is: Jesus is useless when it comes to following through with his actions."

"I'd say he's followed through pretty well at this point!" Jeff said, shouting into the phone. He wasn't angry with God, anything but. But his anger was bubbling beneath the surface and he was struggling to control himself. "I'm sorry," Jeff said, immediately. "I'm sorry for that."

"It's OK," God said. "Believe me, I understand." He took a moment, seemingly formulating what He said next. "If you do decide to keep the baby, my son's baby, then you're going to need help. It will be complicated, the entire endeavour will be complex and I will do what I can to help you."

"Thank you," Jeff said.

"Least I can do," He replied. "It won't be complicated at first, things will be normal, as they were with your other children. Up to a point anyway. Past that point certain things will change. It's up to you how you proceed until you get to then."

"What do you mean?" Jeff asked.

"Well, the child will be normal, until it's not. This happens in a different way in every species. In humans I'd expect it might occur when they hit puberty."

"Like with the X-men?" Jeff asked, immediately unsure if God would get the reference.

"Who?"

"I shouldn't have mentioned it," Jeff replied. "They're mutants in comics that exhibit their powers once they hit puberty."

"Ah, I see," He said. "Then, yes, exactly like that. And once the child hits puberty then things will change and you will need our help. I'll have to assign you an angel, maybe Sandy will be up to it, and they will watch over the child. Probably multiple children, knowing my son. If you're sure you're keeping it?" He asked.

"I am," Jeff said, though he was less sure than he had been at the start of this conversation. "I don't care who their father is, their mother is my wife and we will raise this child. To do otherwise would be inhuman." Jeff felt immensely proud of himself at this moment, proud of his decision and of his humanity. Now he just needed to tell his wife. He also needed to forgive her and he knew that she needed that too.

Jeff and God continued to talk for a little while longer, catching up and then eventually they said goodbye. Afterwards, Jeff sat for a while longer and collected his thoughts, sipping his whisky. Then, when he felt he was ready and the decision had been made he went to find his wife.

Sometimes forgiveness is easy

Jeff finished his drink, left his study and found Melissa in the kitchen. She was preparing dinner and she looked up when he entered the room. She had been crying and Jeff realised that he had been too.

"It's OK," he said. "I forgive you." Melissa let out a sob.

"After all you've done for me," she said, "after you saved me from that demon, I go and do this. I'm not sure I can forgive myself." Jeff walked up to her and took her in his arms. Hers remained by her side. Her head fell onto his chest and she cried loudly. At this moment, one of their sons appeared in the doorway.

"Everything alright, dad?" he asked.

"Yes, son," Jeff replied. "Go into the living room and call your brother. We have some news to tell you." Nathan disappeared in the direction of the living room and Jeff could hear him yelling his brother's name.

"It's OK," he said to his wife. "We're going to raise this kid and we'll do a damn sight better job than _he_ ever would." Jeff leaned down and kissed her. Then they parted and he added "OK?"

Melissa didn't reply at first. Then she rallied herself. "OK," she said. "Let's go tell the kids."

Jesus Returns. Again.

And so the son of God returned to Earth, this time because he wanted to. He was restless on the flight and, anxious to arrive at his destination as he was, would've liked the journey to have been shorter. But he was not in a position to change this and so he just had to accept that things were the way they were.

Besides, once he arrived at Earth he wouldn't be going anywhere so what was the rush? He thought about ordering some alcohol and then decided against it. Instead he asked for a chamomile tea. There was no doubt that, since his mission to Earth, he was a changed being. The mission and his subsequent failure had indelibly altered the son of God. His sessions with God's psychiatrist, actually his psychiatrist now too, had also shifted his thinking. He might even be able to lose some of his stored up resentment that he had towards his father and begin to accept what he was and their relationship. He was the son of God but also another of the many beings that had been created to help Him manage the universe. Jesus knew that he had never really reconciled with his identity but then being the son of God wasn't easy.

And, given what he was going to do next, being at peace with himself might be a good idea. However, that would take some time, more than he probably realised. But for now it was good to have begun that journey and to have a destination in mind. He eased back into his seat to relax and endure the rest of his flight. He would be there soon enough and then he had an entire lifetime in front of him in which he could simply be.

A much fonder reunion

Jesus knocked on the door to the house that the man he used to be lived in, the house that he again hoped to live in. Talya answered the door to find the man she had watched die on the internet on her doorstep.

"But, you, what?" she mumbled. "I saw you die!" Although Jesus did not have quite the same face as the last time she had seen him, it was close enough.

"You did," Jesus said. "But here I am!" He had a grin on his face. "Look, my body died, your...well, your husband's body died. But the angels can remake bodies like this one and, well, I wanted to see you again. So here I am!" Talya had no idea how to react or what to say. She had seen her husband die. So had her children and she had no idea how to explain this to them. But then this man did not look exactly like her husband, not quite.

"So, my husband?" she asked, hopefully.

"I'm afraid he died with his body. There was nothing that could be done about that." Tears began to run down her face again and Talya felt that she had now lost her husband twice. Jesus stepped forward and took her in his arms and she did not resist. She sobbed on his shoulders until one of the children appeared in the corridor.

"Go back in the living room," she said to her son. "Join your brother." The little boy did so and she invited Jesus into her house, closing the door behind her. "Come, I'll make some tea," she said. "I guess we have lots to talk about."

So, Jesus and Talya sat and talked. For hours and hours and hours. Jesus explained who he was and his history, the parts that Talya might not be familiar with. And she listened patiently. And when he was done she asked the question that needed asking.

"Why are you here?" she asked. "What do you want?"

"To help," came his honest answer. "I know what I did to you and your boys. It was in the service of saving your world, which doesn't seem to have worked by the way, but I also know the price you paid wasn't your choice. And I want to make it up to you."

"You're not my husband," she said sternly.

"And I would never try to be. Look, I just want to help, in any way that I can. I'm on indefinite leave from my job." And when you're an immortal being indefinite leave really could mean any amount of time, he thought, "So I don't have to go anywhere anytime soon. And I have some things I need to straighten out in my head, some issues that I'm trying to wrestle with and--"  
"Not my problem," she replied coldly. "None of this is my problem."

"And I'm not asking for your help. I'm asking _to_ help. Look, that's my offer, my help. You've seen what I can do, the things I'm capable of. Right now I want to help you in whatever way you want. You tell me what you want, you set the rules and I'll follow them. And if you don't want my help, if you tell me to leave, I'll leave. I'll never bother you again. But I don't think that is what you want." Jesus was correct, that was not what she wanted. In truth, Talya did not know what she wanted. But some help with the children, from someone who she knew was very good with kids, would not go amiss.

"I want some time to think about it," she said.

"OK," he replied. "Well, let me know what you decide." He stood to leave.

"Where do you think you're going?" she asked. Actually he didn't know. He hadn't thought that far ahead.

"I don't know," he replied honestly.

"You'll stay here with us until I decide what happens next. I'm not having you wandering the streets doing God knows what! I'll make up the spare room." She stood and disappeared up the stairs to the floor above. Jesus sat in the kitchen for several moments before deciding that he would like some company. He stuck his head around the door to the living room and introduced himself to Emir's children. They told him their names and that they were seven and five years old and, as he sat on the floor next to them, he asked them a question.

"Would you like to hear a story about your father?" he asked. And they both nodded animatedly.

"OK," Jesus said. "You didn't know this, but I knew your father really well. And now I'm going to tell you a story that even your mother doesn't know." As Jesus proceeded to tell them the tale he thought that, for once, he might actually be happy. And that he could enjoy being here for a while. Maybe a little longer.

A few weeks later Jesus was still living with Emir's family, continuing to live in the spare room and was finding that he was very glad to be where he was. For the first time in he-did-know-how-long Jesus felt at peace.

That was when Talya decided to stick her head around the door to his room and change his world forever. She had a devious smile on her face, which concerned him. And she took her time saying what she came to say.

"I'm pregnant," she eventually said. Jesus did not reply for he did not know what to say. He was too stunned. This information should not have been at all surprising to him as he was aware of his own remarkable fertility but it was nevertheless. And now things were different. Not only was he present but he wasn't planning on leaving anytime soon. This was indeed a dramatic change for the son of God.

This time, Heaven forbid, he would actually have to be a father to his baby and this was not something that he had any idea about. Actually, now that he thought about it this was terrifying news. Wonderful and terrifying news and his face attempted to convey both emotions simultaneously.

"How do you feel about this?" Talya asked, aware that she did not yet truly know the man whose baby she was carrying.

"Terrified," he replied honestly. That was yet another change that the son of God had been trying to make since returning to this world. He was trying to be honest with those around him. Not that he was wasn't truthful before but now he was not dealing with fans or managers but people that wanted to know him and that he wanted to know. First he needed to know who he was before he could understand how to relate to them though. "And also a little excited," he continued, searching his thoughts. "Truthfully, I have no idea what to do with a baby. Or how I will cope."

"That's OK," Talya replied. "I've had some practise and I'll teach you what you need to know." And Talya looked at him in a way that he had not yet seen and did not know what to make of. She was thinking about the man that she had invited into her home on a whim, about the way he had been with her and the children, and how much he seemed to have changed since they first met. She continued to stare at him and he squirmed under her gaze.

And then she did something that surprised him. She walked over to him and she kissed him. And there was something more than just lust behind the kiss. There was affection. She stepped away from him and he stood there, again surprised. Jesus understood that something was beginning between them, something that he had not experienced for a long time. Love. Oh, it was only the beginning of the process but that is what it was. And, as with the impending baby, he had no idea how to feel about this. But he wanted to feel good and so that's what he would try to do.

He walked over to her and she did not walk away. And then he kissed her. And she kissed him back. And it was good. Then he released her and again she surprised him. She took him by the hand and lead him into her bedroom where he had first woken up as her husband and they made love. And for the first time Jesus knew what it was like to make love to someone that you care for and not someone who was giving you their body because of who you were.

Jesus knew that his journey on the road to becoming a better person had begun with the failure of his mission on Earth. And now it was continuing with his desire to become a father, and maybe one day, a husband to the woman who was already pregnant with his child. Jesus found that this was a journey he was glad to be on, even though he would one day have to return to Heaven to resume his duties as the son of God. But for now he was just a man living his life, learning how to love and enjoying what he had. And that was enough.

###  Epilogue

In which our story reaches its end

Epilogue1: Melissa's perspective

Eventually Melissa came to realise that her time spent with Jesus hadn't been for nothing and that it actually had helped her mental state. She then understood that some things are simply out of your control and in those circumstances there is nothing you can do about it. It wasn't much, but it helped a little.

And she also resolved that if she ever got her hands on the demon who had tortured her, or the angel who had facilitated that, well, they would be made to suffer like no being had ever suffered. For if there was one thing that humans were very good at it was ingenuity and Melissa could think of a great many ingenious ways to hurt that particular individual. She just hoped she would get the chance someday.

As for the baby that Melissa was carrying, well, her story is still to be told...

Epilogue2: Jesus' point of view

Jesus lived a long and fruitful life as a human. It took a very long time for Talya to come to terms with what had happened to her husband but eventually she did and Jesus and she fell in love and got married. And for the first time in a long time Jesus felt love. Not the love of a world, or of a people, but the love of a person. And of a family. And that was important too.

Jesus was there when Emir's children grew and he was there when Talya died, having lived a very long and happy life. Eventually, when the children were grown and had children of their own Jesus left the Earth and returned to the Heavenly Realm to continue his work. But when he did so he was a very different being, a more mature and thoughtful one, and much, much less of an arse. Despite that, occasionally, he still liked to 'do his thing'. Some things did indeed never change.

Jesus and Talya also had children of their own, and theirs too is a story for another time...

As for the world, well that continued down the path of its own destruction, despite the best efforts of God and now His son. But then that's humanity for you. Unwilling to listen to the advice of experts. Stupid, bloody humans.

####

Coming soon: Lucifer and Lillith

Thank you for finishing my book! I hope you enjoyed it and took it in the sense of fun in which it is intended, If you did then please leave a review at your favourite ebook retailer and tell all of your friends and family, anyone who you think would enjoy it. Help me spread the good word!

Cheers,

Matthew James

About the Author:

Matthew James is a writer of oddities. He has a background in biological sciences, with a degree and PhD in neuroscience, and once spent two years looking after fifty cats. No, really. Matthew writes whatever inspires him from religious satire to dystopian science fiction and everything in between. Jesus Returns is his second novel. Matthew lives with his wife and two crazy cats in Cheshire, England.

