The gates were immense and swollen with rust. The lieutenant obliterated the locks and Dr Castella quickly retrieved the fragments, cooing in veneration. Something moved in the mist ahead. I nudged Strauss. Weapons raised, We took point as we breached the Gates of Heaven.
The moaning was reverence stitched to agony. I found the first on his knees. He cried, ‘Judgement is upon us! Have mercy, our fathers.’
I stopped too suddenly for Strauss, who knocked me off balance. Hadn’t he heard? On my knees I tried to understand: Heaven had people in it. They thought we were gods.