Chapter 18

 

The smell of death filled the night air. As the temperature climbed, the stifling odor of rotting flesh forced the city dwellers to move their tents to the outskirts of Slick Rock. Phil Lievens sat at his campfire and stared at the tent flap. There was little else to do. The grisly scene across the campground was like a cheap horror movie. However, this was real and there was no hero to save anyone. 'Damn,' he thought, 'I don't know what the hell to do . . . maybe that old man was right . . . we should leave . . . but go where? . . . and what do I do if she dies . . . Christ, it was only a lousy rat bite . . . look at me, just sitting here, my wife nearly dead . . . God, I can't just watch her die . . .' Phil's thoughts were interrupted by his teenage son. Sitting down by his father and poking the campfire, the boy whispered, "Is Mom going to die?"

" I don't know, John. I don't know much of anything right now. You wait here, like she said, and I'll watch over her for a while. And keep your eyes open, those damned rats seem to follow us around. Every time we've changed campsites, the rats show up."

Phil got up and walked into their tent. His wife, Reba, was lying on some coats and dirty blankets. The infection had spread throughout her body and the fever kept her on the fringes of delirium. She recognized her husband's face and reached out for his hand. Their eyes reflected the music of their love. Overwhelmed with anguish, Phil burst into tears and embraced her fevered body. She caressed the back of his head. Together they waited for the shadow of death, and ever so slowly it came. With her last spark of life, she whispered her love for him and said, "Save our son, find him a safe place." John heard his father crying and rushed back into the tent. Stricken with grief and confusion, the boy sat alone in the corner and cried until his stomach twisted from convulsions of anguish. It was hours before Phil could release himself from his wife's last embrace. When, at last, he accepted her death, he reached out to console his son. Sobbing in each other's arms they didn't notice the quick, black shadow that scurried into the tent. Finding a dark corner, it began to prune the lice from its wet fur. Now, no longer fearing its predators, it boldly awaited its next meal.

When, at last, Phil and his son fell asleep, it stole from its nest to gorge on the cold, dead flesh that lay under the blankets. Phil, awakened by the light of dawn, opened his eyes, seeing the rat tearing at his wife's flesh he became enraged. Screaming at the top of his lungs, he sprang from his cot and with bare hands grabbed the rat and tore its head from its body; but not before it sank its yellow teeth deep into his hand. Awakened by his father's screams, John rushed to his side. The dead rat and the bleeding hand told the grim story. John quickly washed and bandaged his father's hand. Recognizing the fear in his son's eyes, Phil said, "I'm not going to lie to you, John. The bite is bad, but I'm not going to just up and die on you. Now, get your stuff together because we're going to leave here just as soon as we can. We'll bury your mom on that little hill where she used to like to go on picnics."

" Where are we going?" John asked, with a quiver in his voice.

"I'm not sure, but for now, I think we ought to head for the mountains. It will be cooler there and for certain there'll be less rats. Probably less of everything else too, but we can't stay here."

They packed what they thought they could carry. Phil laid his wife's body on a small cart and with his son's help, pulled the wagon to the burial site. Although his hand throbbed with pain, Phil would not let his son help with the digging. He didn't want the boy's last memory of his mother to include the morbid role of 'grave digger'. When her body was finally laid to rest, they prayed over the grave. John prayed for his mother's soul and Phil asked for God's help in protecting his son. The journey to the mountains would take about three weeks. Phil intended to bypass the La Sal mountains and head for the higher mountains of Colorado. He planned to find a mountain valley protected from the wind and with some luck, grow the precious seeds he carried in his pack. At least, that was the plan for his son. Phil didn't really know if he could survive the infection that was growing in his hand. By the time they left the grave and headed east, his hand had swollen.

Phil was determined to stay alive long enough to find a haven for his son. The dark spring clouds gathered from the West and rolled their way East. With an ear splitting roar, the sky opened and torrents of rain soaked the dry valley plain. Huddled under a rock shelter, John tried to make his father as comfortable as possible. The rain was a constant torment and impossible to avoid. Phil's hand throbbed with pain, but he did not complain. His only goal was to stay alive long enough to get his son to the mountains. " Maybe we could stay here a few days." John suggested.

"We can't son. That old man was right. The bacteria growing in Slick Rock will spread and the only place we have a chance of surviving is in the high mountain ranges. Most people will stay in the valleys and avoid the cold of the mountains. Besides, many are too weak to make the climb. The rats will stay close to their food source and that means the cities and towns in the low lands. The highest and most isolated place I can think of is that mountain range ahead of us. Years ago, before all the trouble, people use to go there to ski." Staring at Mount Wilson, John could see the lighting flashing across the tops of the ridges. He was scared and confused. Although life in Slick Rock had been hard, being stuck out in the middle of nowhere with little food was terrifying. His adolescent daydreams of becoming an explorer were always done from the safety of his home in Slick Rock. This was too real and he began to shiver from fear and rain soaked clothes. " But how are we going to live when we get to the mountains? Dad, I'm scared. I don't want to be afraid, but I can't help it."

" I'm afraid too, John, but we've just got to make the best of it. I know it's hard on you. I would do anything to make it all go away, but I can't. You're going to have to grow up a lot faster than is fair for a fifteen year old. I'm not going to lie to you, this infection is getting worse, it doesn't look like I'm going to make it."

John's tears mixed with the rivulets of rain that ran down his cheeks. His father's words were harsh, but the truth was no surprise to a child that had witnessed all his friends and neighbors die from starvation and rat bites. Trying desperately to act as grown up as possible, he said, "Then you mean that I will be alone in the mountains."

Seeing the fear in his son's eyes, Phil's frustration intensified. He had no way to soften the inevitable. With painful reluctance, he said, "I'm sorry son, but it looks that way." I'm getting awful weak and if the fever gets any worse I'll probably start talking funny and saying strange things, but don't be frightened of it. You've seen it plenty of times in Slick Rock, so you've got to be prepared for it. It means you'll have to bury me and strike out on your own."

Losing his control again, John cried out with," Oh God, no. You can't die. You can't. Please Dad don't leave me!" John's torment brought tears to his father's eyes. Phil had no answers other than to prepare his son for the worst.

"I don't want to John, but it's out of my control. Now, I want you to understand some of the problems you will face. First you will have to find food and shelter. When you get to the mountains, find a protected meadow and plant our seeds. Stay high and close to the snow line. There are plenty of caves along the ridge walls that you can use. Once the summer heat starts, all the water is likely to be bad. That means you drink only melted snow from the very tops of the mountains. That old deer rifle of mine will get you enough meat to last the coming winter, but don't eat any birds. There's only one box of shells so you're going to have to build yourself a bow to hunt with. Get started on that as soon as possible. You know your way around the woods. Just use your head and don't be careless. Check everything you do, twice."

" Will it ever be safe to leave the mountains?" asked John.

" It will never be totally safe, ever. But the diseases and spread of bacteria will probably stop when most of the people are dead and the food chain has shrunk. That will take about five years or more. You've got to boil everything you eat and wash yourself only with water you've boiled. Once the diseases start to spread, it means that every living thing is a danger to your survival because it can be a carrier. Stay away from people and keep absolutely clean."

Listening to his father's advice helped John to regain his composure. The next few days passed slowly because the rain would not let up. When the sun finally made it's appearance, they continued their march to the mountains. Phil could hardly walk and had to lean on John most of the time. It had been three weeks since the death of his wife. Now, he was knocking on the same door. By the time they reached the foothills, Phil was barely able to speak. His fever flared on the night they made their first camp on the side of the mountain. There was little John could do for his father. Once the delirium started, Phil became incoherent. Most of it was like watching someone go through a nightmare. Just before Phil died, he began talking to John's mother as if she were right there in front of him. But it wasn't crazy talk like most of the delirium. He spoke in a normal voice and died with his wife's name on his lips. At the moment of death, John screamed for his father's attention, but to no avail. The overwhelming feeling of loss and weakness was unbearable. The young man cried until the terror of his loss was drowned in tears. The slow ebbing of his grief was gradually replaced with paranoiac fear.

Two weeks after his father's death, he stumbled upon a few old forest service roads on his way up Mount Wilson. It took days of wandering along the high ridges before he found a dry cave. The cave was just above the tree line and the opening faced the east. The snow covered peaks stood in majestic defiance of the onrushing summer heat. In the solitude of the cold mountain air, John's grief was numbed. Remembering his father's advice, he planted garden seed in a small meadow just inside the dark wall of pine trees. But the ground was hard and nearly lifeless. There was little chance of anything growing other than the tough elk grass and deer browse that dominated the meadow. Staring into the glowing embers of his campfire, tears of loneliness trickled down the young boy's face. His last thoughts before sinking into the comfort of sleep were memories of his parents. The deer he shot lay in silent tribute at the mouth of the cave. Startled awake by fierce growls, the young hunter reached for his rifle. In the early morning light he could see two dogs dragging his deer from the cave entrance. In a mad panic he ran after the thieves, shouting obscenities at their ruthlessness. Turning from their labor the dogs charged their tormentor. In wild fear, John raised his gun and fired at the rushing animals. One fell dead and the other kept coming. With savage fury the dog crashed into John's chest and sank it's fangs into his shoulder. The impact threw both beast and boy down the side of the mountain in a swirling cascade of rocks and dirt. Struggling to regain his balance, the boy reached out and dug his fingers into the shifting mountain shale. The wild dog, crazed with the taste of John's blood, made a second lunge at the boy's neck. But, this time John was prepared for the impact. Searching for a weapon, his hand came to test on a large pointed piece of mountain shale. When the animal struck, John plunged the point of the shale into the dog's skull. The battle raged as the dog attempted to bite into John's neck. With a final ferocity of will, the boy exploded with a deluge of blows to the dog's head. Succumbing to the onslaught, the beast fell dead across the boy's chest.

Exhausted and bleeding, the young boy went back toward his cave. In an attempt to prepare himself for the infection and fever that was to come, John cleaned his wounds, and dragged the deer carcass into the cave. He knew that within a few days he would be to weak to leave the cave for food or fuel. With his last ounce of strength, he gathered firewood and filled his water container. Sitting at the mouth of the cave, he waited for the inevitable. The first wave of the infection began that night. His head throbbed with pain and every muscle in his body began to ache. The fever slowly consumed his strength until he was too weak to hold himself up. Time seemed to stand still as John waited for the morning light. There was no sleep that night. By dawn the next day, fever and pain wracked his body. Laying in a pit of torment he prayed for the reprieve of unconsciousness. His body, slumped in a livid pool of feverish sweat and urine, twisted in waves of convulsions. The stench of death beckoned the carrion eaters. Silent as clouds they floated down and waited to fulfill their age old assignment. The outcome of this struggle between life and death would be dictated by the ancient laws of nature.

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The majestic alpine scenery surrounding them went unnoticed as they pushed and pulled at the heavily laden wagons. They had been trying for hours to get themselves and what remained of their belongings up the steep mountain path. It was too much, finally they broke for lunch and discussed what they would leave behind. Three days ago, they had lightened their load by half. After redistributing their gear, the cart was camouflaged with pine boughs and placed underneath a large protuberance of granite. At a later date, they planned to return for the contents. Now, rested, they lightened their load again, and resumed the strenuous climb. Just as they reached the rise, they were startled by a shout. Fear rose from the memory of their last encounter with strangers. It happened early on the morning after they celebrated with Doc's Cognac. As one man hailed them in friendship, two more remained hidden in the pines. However, Don and Billy Jo were out of the camp and behind the two that were hiding before the first one finished speaking. Quickly, the first man drew a gun and demanded food, Sal wasted no time in sending him on to a better life. The 'bad men' in the woods, as Theresa referred to them, were released from their earthly bonds by Billy Jo and Don. That time, Don did not hesitate.

However, the hail of friendship this time was from a voice they recognized. " Hello!" The strong male voice echoed, as Tyler came into view. Apparently Tyler was aware of their approach and came to meet them. Tyler led them the rest of the way to the top. Once there, they were immediately confused, there was no building or any other sign of human habitation. Magically, Tyler seemed to disappear, stunned, they watched as he appeared to rise up from an outcropping of boulders and wave them over. They did as he directed. Stepping down a ledge, they turned to see another, after that, a third one leading to an elevator. The speed with which they descended into the center of the mountain reminded Ben of a very unpleasant ride at an amusement park he had suffered as a child. The doors opened to reveal a surprisingly large cavern.

Jerome's little mountain retreat resembled something from a James Bond movie. Tyler ushered them into a small living area and offered them hot soup and coffee. Relief from arriving safely at their destination, along with extreme physical exhaustion made it impossible for them to explore what Tyler seemed anxious to show them. Tyler, who had always considered himself happiest when alone, had sorely missed these people and was unable to stop chattering. Ben's only request before he fell into a deep sleep was to view Molly's body. It was absolutely amazing. She looked as if she were floating, weightless in a glass coffin. Her features were blurred by a thin layer of mist, but it was definitely her. He felt a twinge of horror as he looked at the tubes that connected her body to stainless steel machine humming softly nearby.

The next morning they woke refreshed and able to take the tour Tyler had wanted to take them on the day before. Primarily, the cavern was a warm, dry shelter containing highly sophisticated electronic equipment and little else. Solar energy was converted to a giant bank of batteries which powered the large computer system. It seemed every possible event had been taken in to account, including malfunction of the equipment. With pride, Tyler showed them the emergency escape route that was woven between the crevices of a sheer cliff. Long, slim windows made from non-glare glass were artfully arranged so as to be hidden from outside view, but provide daylight and also a panoramic view. He explained that he had watched their arrival with the aid of a telescope. Tyler showed off by giving a few voice commands to the computer. A pleasant female voice either complied with his request, answered his question, or apologetically declined.

The air temperature of the cavern remained a constant 65 degrees. Ben was fascinated with the radio equipment which included AM, FM, all the amateur bands plus a shortwave capable of not only receiving, but broadcasting. However, at the moment nothing was heard but the nerve shattering sound of static and Tyler quickly told the computer to play a selection from Jerome's vast collection of compact discs. Water was plentiful and completely purified before reaching the plumbing of living area, the source was a deep artesian well. The living area, although Spartan, was quite comfortable. The only storage food was an assortment of dehydrated vegetables, meant for supplemental use only, however, game was plentiful. Day after day, they retrieved the belongings they had left behind. Much to Theresa's delight one summer day, Colleen, without prompting had followed her and Billy Jo out of the compound. However, after that Colleen had not made a third attempt at self initiate activity.

Ben had stopped trying to communicate with Molly through Colleen long ago. Now, all he wanted was to put her to rest. He dreamed of pulling out the tubes and burying her body on a hillside. Thankfully, he was able to divert his morbid thoughts by searching through the computer encyclopedia. He had no idea if any of the information would be useful, but it was one way to take up time. Summer did not last long on the mountain. A few hardy plants were harvested from the garden they had planted in an isolated meadow several miles below them. As they had done before, game was killed and preserved; this time in a modern storage room that contained a large freezing unit.

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John woke from a deep sleep feeling weak, but strangely optimistic. Remembered dreams in which alien life forms had spoken to him, offering him comfort and showing him movies caused him to think he might be dead. He stumbled out of the cave to check his surroundings. With mixed feelings, he accepted the fact that he was still among the living. Slowly, he walked back into the cave and drank. The water was soothing. Over the summer he became strong, surviving on small animals and plants. Seldom staying in the same camp twice, he roamed the mountain freely, avoiding strangers. He often watched the people who lived at the top of Mount Wilson, but was unaware that they also watched him. John had located a dry cave about a mile away, but was unsure about being able to survive there for the winter. Billy Jo, was also unsure about the boy's ability to survive the high mountain winter, but was impressed by the ingenuity with which he had survived up to now. They had all agreed to invite the young man to winter with them before Billy Jo and Jezebel went to search him out on a cold October morning.  John Lievens was paranoid, but not stupid.

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The devastation from the bacteria was unprecedented. Cities throughout the world became cesspools of every known disease, plus some that had yet to be defined. Few survived and those that did lived with constant apprehension. The feverish pitch of plagues ravaged world order and civilization. People banded together in small groups and wandered through the wake of plague, cholera, and typhoid. When groups would meet from different cities, they exchanged not only news, but diseases and infections. There was a small number of the previous elite who thought themselves prepared for chaos. Long before world order collapsed, these wealthy and powerful families had built havens for their survival. However, these fortresses soon became tombs of despair and hopelessness. In their smugness, the elite had no concept of the totality of the devastation or their own limitations. They had fine honed skills in manipulation of money markets, but little ability to repair the highly sophisticated hardware of their sanctuaries. As their equipment broke down, they became pitiful pockets of human wretchedness.

John adapted very slowly to his new home. He rarely spoke and did not offer any information about himself. He did, however, develop a close relationship with Billy Jo. It was an easy relationship based not so much on conversation as it was on their daily hunting excursions. They spoke very little, but as hunters, seemed to have a sixth sense regarding team effort in finding game. Theresa was absolutely delighted to have a younger person to talk with, however, she did most of the talking while John just listened. The first month winter passed slowly on Mount Wilson. At times, the cabin fever got so bad it forced them out of their sanctuary in the middle of a snow storm to try out Jerome's skiing equipment. Everyone quickly became proficient in the use of snowshoes.

Unlike Theresa, who the previous winter had enjoyed the advantage of live-in tutors, John's formal education had been nonexistent for more than two years. Now, at the age fifteen he was living with some very knowledgeable people. In school, his favorite subject had been computer science and Joan proved to be an excellent teacher. Although the expansive computer library provided many hours of solitary education and entertainment for them all, it was agreed upon that each adult would spend a few hours a week with the younger members instructing them in their respective areas of expertise. One evening at dinner John expressed his fascination with the automation he observed around him and asked Tyler to show him the control room. Both he and Theresa were surprised at the reaction his simple request generated.

Dr. Sherman had not forgotten his decision to be honest with the young people. Since none of the others seemed anxious to respond, he cleared his throat and attempted to respond. His stammering was interrupted by Tyler who explained, as a simple matter of fact, that Molly's body lay in suspended animation in the control room. Joan added a few technical words to Tyler's. John sat mesmerized by their words, but Theresa ran away from the table shouting that they were all liars. Don and Megan went after her and together they tried to calm her. Surprisingly, Theresa was not alarmed over what had been done to Molly, but was livid over the fact that Don had lied to her in the beginning.

The next morning, Tyler spent the entire day patiently speaking with Theresa and John about the reasons why it had been necessary to preserve Molly's body and join her 'silver cord' to Colleen's.. They appreciated his attempt to give them simple answers to any question they asked. Tyler was pleasantly surprised by their logical questions and the way they offered a few of their own metaphysical experiences toward the end of the day. Tyler concluded that children, these two anyway, were much more spiritually in tune than many of the adults to whom he had attempted to teach these same concepts.

Ben was the only one who seemed unaffected by being stuck indoors as spring approached. More and more radio bands were becoming active. Frustrated over the computer's negative response to his request to attempt to broadcast, he was enthusiastic over being able to receive news of current events. However, his mood was soon dampened by what he heard. The level of destruction was unbelievable. At the end of the winter to come, some predicted the world population would be reduced by one fourth. Around the end of March a slow excitement began to build, not only from the promise of spring, but also anticipation of Rowan's return on the first day of June. As the huge winter snows began to recede up the mountain, wild flowers started blooming in the high mountain meadows. The cascading water from the melting snow turned many small mountain streams into magnificent displays of thunderous waterfalls. May finally arrived and for the next three weeks it seemed that Juniper was constantly repeating her concern that Hank and Sandy would not accompany Rowan in the strenuous climb over the rugged terrain, but would go directly to Monticello and find her gone.

Megan and Theresa literally dragged her outside to distract her. Taking a small picnic lunch the three descended a mile or so down the mountain to a protected glade. Megan surprised Theresa by unfolding a kite she had made. Putting it together, they ran back and forth over the spring grasses in an unsuccessful attempt at catching the wind. After lunch, the three climbed a small hill overlooking a deep gorge. Megan was overcome by the virginal beauty of the scene and began to sing an old ballad. Theresa lay on her back and watched the clouds as Juniper added the harmony. Their voices echoing on the wind sounded like a chorus. Amazed, the two women stopped singing to listen. The echo did not stop but continued to sing, in two part harmony, the remainder of the song.

"I'd recognize that country twang anywhere!" Juniper shouted as she almost skipped down the mountain trail. "Sandy's come with Rowan!"

Within minutes seven horseback riders quietly entered the meadow bordering their picnic site. With a shout of delight all three ran to meet the riders. Sandy literally jumped from her mount into Juniper's arms. After many hugs they proceeded to the retreat. The flurry of hugs and embraces began all over again as they entered the dark sanctuary of Mount Wilson. Theresa took the responsibility of personally introducing John to everyone that entered. The events of the rider's long journey was discussed at length. Everyone had questions about what had happened since they were last together and often spoke at the same time. Although the news from the low lands was not good, they were able to maintain a festive mood. Rowan spoke of many mysterious messages that had been sent to her across the reservation; warnings of groups of people wandering the country side seeking and killing anyone that was even rumored to have any involvement with the occult. Even on the reservation, medicine men and women were being tracked down and killed. It wasn't long before the conversation turned to Rowan's primary reason for coming to Mount Wilson. Rowan said that she would be ready to return Molly to her own body after a few days of rest, adding that she also wanted to prepare a pleasant place outdoors in order to conduct a proper ceremony.

Everyone was invited to witness the event and be passive participants by focusing their thoughts on Molly's safe return. The next few days were spent in catching up on events and renewing their friendship. Those that had left with Rowan last fall were now very different. Not only in their manner of speaking, but also their attitude and the clothes they wore. It was Juniper who raised the issue on how different they appeared and commented  especially the way they spoke. Even Mort and Bert seemed somehow changed.  Responding to Juniper's questioning about their experiences Jacob said, "We spent a lot of time with some very powerful Shamans. There had to be some kind of effect." Playfully Juniper said "It sounds like you've been having many adventures without me. So, what have you learned?"

" It's not easy to describe what we learned," answered Sandy, "but I'll give it a shot. I think the most important issue, at least for me, was understanding that our concept of time stops us from seeing the whole of existence. We simply assume that our physical life has a beginning and an end, this seems logical because we see the miracle of birth and the sorrow of death. But there is no beginning or end. Birth and death are simply different aspects of the same existence; an existence that is infinite and by definition not linear."

" I've heard that before," said Juniper," but it doesn't explain the truth of existence itself."

" That's because there is no single truth." answered Jacob. "Many people spend their entire lives searching for 'the one truth', but it evades them because there isn't just one truth. What the Shamans seem to understand is that structure is something we create. The difference between the Shaman and everyone else is that the Shaman doesn't let the structure that's been created become part of their internal belief system regarding truth about existence. The truly powerful ones create at will, then when finished with their 'toy', dismantle it and move on to another structure."

Sandy elaborated, "For them it is simply a game, for the rest of us it becomes something sacred."

Juniper had difficulty accepting her friends words. She knew Sandy was intelligent, but up until now, she had always hidden it well, thinking that it was somehow unattractive to be 'brainy'. Hank, seeing Juniper's thoughtful expression. tried to clarify what Jacob and Sandy had said. "The simplest explanation I've heard is what is called the paradoxical definition of infinity. That is 'all conclusions are valid, even when they contradict each other.' Humans seem to require a limit placed on the infinite, such as religious truth. The Shaman seems to have taken up the task of getting us to understand that all of existence is simply an illusion that we created. The problem is that we often believe the illusion and then become trapped by the belief." Don was so surprised at the way Hank spoke that he laughed, "Sounds pretty slippery, especially coming from your mouth. You sound like a professor I once had. OK, fess up, what did you do with the real Hank?" Sandy explained that they had all undergone extensive changes, then Juniper asked, "Seriously, then why do some Shamans encourage a belief and practice of ritual?"

" I guess that like any other human, they use ritual to focus attention. However, they also have their egos to contend with and sometimes wind up believing the structure they created is infallible." Then laughing Sandy said, "And sometimes they just get fed up with the stubbornness of others and simply let them believe whatever is useful in order to solve a problem."

" Like painting yourself into a corner?"

" You could say that." Sandy answered. "

Mort then jumped in and added , "But, those rules ain't set in cement, they can be changed. At least that's what Jesus taught. He said if you really believed something, you can do anything. Even moving mountains and trees just by thinking about it."

The conversation was interrupted by a whisper. Stunned, all eyes turned toward Colleen as she smiled and repeated her request for a glass of water. Theresa, never far from her mother's side, was first to respond. With trembling hands, she handed the glass to her mother. The atmosphere was heavy with emotion. Colleen drank thirstily and cleared her throat before saying, "I'm back to stay, Terry." Theresa was unable to speak as she reached out for the mother she feared had been lost forever. After several moments spent in silence, Colleen reached for Don's hand. Billy Jo, who had been so comfortable with Colleen before, was overcome with shyness.

"I know it sounds strange to you," Colleen said in a raspy voice, "but I'm very tired, and would like to rest." Theresa helped her to a cot and without speaking covered her with a blanket. Reaching up to her daughter, Colleen whispered, "Tell Billy Jo that I haven't forgotten him."

Over the next couple of days, Colleen, Theresa and Billy Jo spent considerable time in conversation. Although aware of Angie's death from her place of mental seclusion, Colleen had yet to experience it's emotional impact. Her tears of grief flowed readily on the shoulders of her daughter and Billy Jo. Two days after Colleen's awakening, Rowan, assisted by Hank and Bert prepared a ceremonial site for Molly, deep in the huge pines that surrounded the retreat. On the third day, the first day of June, Rowan announced that she was ready to deal with Molly's resurrection. It was a very tense time for Ben. He knew this would eventually happen, but it always seemed so unreal. To him, it seemed like a sacrilege to remove Molly's body from it's glass tomb and carry it to the middle of woods. Rowan could feel his resistance and said, "I know this is very hard for you. Trust in the universe, all will be well." Molly's body was dressed in a loose fitting muslin gown and carried to the ceremonial site at midnight. Jacob created a circle of protection and placed a large white candle in each of the four directions. Tyler remained with Jacob and watched over her through the night. An hour before sunrise Rowan, Colleen and the witnesses arrived. Rowan reminded everyone that their role in this simple ceremony was to focus their thoughts on Molly's safe passage. Hank began drumming softly. Sandy replaced the candles with new ones, chanting as she lit fire to the wicks. Rowan explained that she would first act as a channel to Molly. Reaching out, she took hold of Colleen's hand, then Molly's. Colleen held Rowan's hand tightly as she reached for Molly's other hand. The circle complete, Rowan closed her eyes. A fine mist rose from the center of the circle enveloping the three figures. "So Rowan, you've come for me." Molly greeted her old friend.

" Yes, it's time."

" Give me a reason good enough to convince me to leave this beautiful place of harmony and love; only to exist on a plague ridden planet filled with pain, fear and hate."

" I won't do that." Rowan responded," You have to know it for yourself."

" I do know," Molly responded with resignation, "and I agree now, as I did before." Nothing was heard by those watching. A few minutes after Rowan closed her eyes Colleen's body became luminescent as the soft glow shifted to Rowan for a moment and then to Molly's body before fading out of sight. Molly opened her eyes and surveyed her surroundings. " I'm cold." She said, as her body involuntarily convulsed with spasm.

" Sweet Jesus!" Ben exclaimed, "It worked." Then wrapping a blanket around Molly's shoulders he picked her up and carried her home. The entire day was again filled with festivities and questions. Ben, however, had no questions, he was content to have his friend back. He sat back in a comfortable corner with John and Theresa and listened to the tale of two women who wore one body. They attempted to relate their adventures in a dimension that had all the physical freedoms experienced in dreams. When Molly described Jennie's appearance, Colleen eyes filled with tears. She then told everyone of seeing her son, but not recognizing him. "If you met Jennie," said Juniper," then you must have been where we all go after death."

" Not quite," answered Molly. "We could visit other spirits, but they had to initiate contact. It was more like the front porch of what we call the 'afterlife'."

Molly was having difficulty pushing aside her feelings of melancholy at returning to this plane of existence. Her body felt extremely heavy. Smiling and trying to lighten her mood, she looked at Colleen and joked, "I'll bet your glad to get rid of the extra baggage."

Colleen rose from her seat, put her arms around Molly and said, "I always wanted a sister, now I have one."

Dr. Sherman, was aware of Molly's depression and determined that those feelings were normal considering what she had experienced. However he was concerned that the time spent in suspended animation may have caused some muscle atrophy. However, Molly assured him that she was fine. In fact, she yelled with delight the next morning when she looked into a mirror an found that Jerome had provided the 'tuck n roll job' she'd requested along with a face lift.

"Sounds like she found the mirror," laughed Ben. "I wonder what old Gaf . . ." Ben's comment was interrupted by John who ran out to the main room shouting that someone was broadcasting from Durango. Everyone ran and tried to crowd into the control room, but Tyler had the sense to have the broadcast played on all the speakers. The announcement came from some organization that was asking for volunteers to come and help build a new community in Durango. They claimed to have food, fuel and if needed medical assistance. The message was played continuously every hour. The message didn't mention if it was part of any government plan. It simply said that they would provide food, shelter and medical assistance to anyone who wanted to volunteer. After months of hardship and living on the edge of devastation, everyone wanted to investigate. However, Ben and Dr. Sherman were not convinced. They cautioned against any impulsive decisions and Rowan fully agreed. Megan and Juniper were less than thrilled when it was decided that only three should go. However, once they realized that the trip would be made on horseback they opted to guard the home front. Neither one had ever ridden a horse and this was not the best of circumstances to learn horsemanship. In the end, lots were drawn among those that wanted to go.

The final three selected were Sal, Joan and Jacob. Both Jacob and Joan had considerable experience with horses, however Sal had never ridden and had to depend on the other two for assistance. Durango was not that far and on horseback the travelers could get there in three days. The very next day the trio set out across the mountains. The main road that went into Durango was less than twenty miles from their mountain sanctuary. The ride down the mountains was uneventful and as expected they didn't see any other travelers until they reached the main highway. There were numerous people camped along the road and many that seemed to have the same destination in mind. Everyone they meet was headed into Durango to find out if they could get the advertised food and shelter. No one seemed to care who was providing this good fortune. Their only concern was to get food or medical assistance. The scene reminded Joan of pictures see had seen of the refugees in eastern Europe at the end of World War II.

At the outskirts of Durango the trio were meet by a small group of people claiming to be the welcoming committee for anyone wanting to volunteer. At first glance it seemed quite simple and in fact almost ordinary. The pamphlets they were given outlined the jobs available and in general what they could expect in return for their labor. In bold gold letters across the front of the pamphlet was the name 'God's Golden Dawn'. Just under the title was the inscription, 'With Emmanuel All Things Are Possible.' In the distance they could see that a considerable amount of work had already begun. Large earth moving equipment had nearly leveled the town and large trucks were hauling away the debris. When one of the committee members noticed Jacob's interest in the heavy equipment he was told that the entire city would be leveled and a new town would be built below the ground. He was then handed pictures of the projected architectural design with brochures describing the living accommodations. To balance a life of underground living, spacious parks would be designed. Lush flowering gardens and winding paths would provide a healthy atmosphere for bicycling, hiking, or picnicking. Over the gateway to each community was written the words 'Order out of Chaos'. According to the plan the city would be entirely self sufficient for electricity and food. All single individuals would be housed in dormitories and families would be given apartments. The size of the projected living quarters were extremely spacious. There was no monetary exchange. Everything was provided by 'God's Golden Dawn'. The only obvious condition was that the volunteer had to submit to the absolute authority of the leader of 'God's Golden Dawn', Emmanuel Arimathaea.  'God's Golden Dawn' was well organized and ready to sign everyone that entered the town.

There were tables set in the street with people ready with answers and wide smiles. When Joan asked what kind of work was available she was given a form to complete that asked about previous experience. At the bottom of the form was a list of agreements and a place for her signature. She gasped slightly when she read the first line of the agreement which described a micro security computer that would be implanted in all volunteers. There was no doubt in her mind that the micro-computer, described as smaller than a match, was none other than a new version of the 'the snitch'. The Illuminati's plan for total control of the planet had worked quite well. No one had to be coerced into joining the cities of 'God's Golden Dawn'. They came in droves. Around the world this scene was played out over and over. People flocked to the Illuminati's havens of hope and readily agreed to having the computer implanted. With this implant they could begin their lives again, without it they would have to wander in the wastelands of plague and pestilence. And their new life would be better than anyone could ever have imagined. All their needs and desires would be completely fulfilled by 'Emmanuel'. His name would soon be revered and some began to believe that he was the embodiment of Christ. The only thing that was not allowed was independent political or religious thought. Those that strayed from this one simple rule would be exterminated by the activation of a kill code within the implanted computer. This punishment was not hidden, in fact it was hailed by a growing number of people as the only viable solution to world chaos.

Handing the form back to the committee member, she excused herself saying that she wanted to talk it over with her friends. "Oh no rush. Take all the time you need, Dear. We're not going anywhere." 'I'm sure you're not.' Joan thought as she walked over to where Jacob and Sal stood. As she approached them she noticed that they were standing on the edges of a small crowd that had gathered. Not paying any attention to the reason for the gathering, Joan stood between the two men and began to tell them what she had learned. Her best advise at this point was going to be their leaving. However, she was distracted by a loud raspy voice blistering her ear drums. " Perverts! Whores of Satan!" Turning her head in that direction she was surprised to see that the booming voice had come from a little old man standing on a large crate. Sal grinned at Joan's reaction, nudged her arm and pointed to the words written on the box in red letters, painted as if to be dripping with blood . . . 'Last Day Prophet of God'. " Now Joan, there's an honest to God soapbox preacher. Bet you never thought you'd see one of those."

The preacher was issuing warnings regarding 'the abomination' that was not only a 'wolf in sheep's clothing' but would snare their souls while they slept, their bellies full, but their minds empty. "I can't believe how he can speak that loudly," Jacob said, "My throat hurts just listening to him." The crowd soon tired of the entertainment and dispersed. Many poked fun at the old preacher as they took their place in the long line. Everyone was excited not only by the prospect of actively working again, but the hope that the bad times had finally come to an end.

" Well that preacher is right about one thing." Joan whispered to Jacob and Sal, "God's Golden Dawn is definitely bad news. Remember what I told you about the snitch? Well, it's ready and being implanted in our fellow citizens as we speak. I suggest that we leave quietly and not attract any attention to ourselves."

The woman watched Joan walk over to where the crowd had gathered. She knew the woman from somewhere, but couldn't quite remember. Walking inside to join her friend for a coffee break she remembered. With sudden insight, she slammed her hand on the table and shouted to her friend, "It's the Bitch from NERD!" Her friend laughed and disagreed, "What would she be doing out here? With a brain and a body like hers, I'm sure she would have ended up in one of those ritzy government palaces."

Unknown to the two women, their boss had also noticed Joan and recognized her from a picture in his file of people he was to be on the watch for. The officer picked up his cellular phone and called his superior. Joan, Sal, and Jacob left the area and camped in a semi secluded spot ten miles away. Throughout the night they discussed whether they should find out more details or return to the retreat. Their decision made, they breakfasted lightly on their limited provisions and headed west. The people in the area had become used to the helicopters that surveyed a large portion of the state. It was a common site and no one was surprised to see one of them land on the center strip of the highway. However, the trio was extremely wary and had done their best to hide themselves and their horses as soon as they saw that the craft intended to land.

Sal looked through the small binoculars he had brought from the mountain and then quickly set him down, momentarily startled to see a man, also with binoculars, looking directly at him. "Shit!" Sal said as he again raised the glasses to his eyes. "It's that Jerome dude, and he's wiggling his fingers at me." Joan exhibiting a trait of her old self, swore and snatched the glasses out of Sal's grasp. "So it is. Well, let's go and see what he wants." The horses were skittish at the noise created by the helicopter so they left them hidden and sauntered over to where Jerome waited. Taking Joan aside he told her that she had been spotted. Also that the Illuminati had been looking for her and a few others they deemed valuable in creating a smooth implementation and operation of the tiny information device in the months to come. With an uncharacteristic hesitation in his voice he said, "The situation for both of us is likely to become very dangerous. However, I think I have a way of keeping you from getting entangled in the snares."

" What snares are you talking about?", asked Joan.

" As it stands, there is no way to avoid your capture. It was a mistake for you to go into that town, you were recognized. If you do not report in on your own, you will be searched out, possibly even killed. I was concerned that if you went back to Mount Wilson, everyone there be would also be eliminated."

"If the big wigs wanted to find me because of my computer skills, why can't I just walk into the city and get myself a nice cushy job?" Joan said teasingly.

" You could. But sooner or later you might inadvertently let slip what you've been involved in, then some mid-level idiot would report his suspicions. How long do you think it would take before you would reveal what you know about Mount Wilson and Molly's phony death?"

" Ok, I get the picture. So what have you got in mind?"

Quite bluntly he said, "You become my mistress." With a twinkle in her eye she said, "I kind of had a hunch it would be something like that." Jerome quickly added, "Of course it would be only an act. I have a much larger role for you in my plans, which I'll discuss in detail later."

"Seriously, I understand you want me for my knowledge and have no problem with the plan, but now I'd like to explain it to my friends." Between them, Joan and Jerome convinced Sal and Jacob that it was best for her to leave now with Jerome and for them to continue on and join the others on the mountain.

"The situation is becoming dangerous to us all much faster than I had anticipated." Jerome warned. "Over the next few days, I will meet with two friends I have in common with Tyler. When we have arrived at a firm plan of action I'll bring them to the mountain and explain everything to you and the others."

The two men watched the helicopter leave with mixed feelings about allowing Joan to leave with a powerful member of the Illuminati, but it was clearly a choice that she felt strongly about. Jacob and Sal rode on toward Mount Wilson, trailing the third horse behind them. That night Jacob was on guard while Sal tried to get a few hours of sleep. Several men arrived nearby and noisily set up their camp. Disturbing phrases drifted through the air similar to the smell of sewage. From what he gathered this was one of the groups he and Rowan had been warned of while living on the reservation, but much more dangerous. These dozen or so men had truth in their hearts. The truth of organized Christian righteousness, they called themselves 'Thorns of Christ'. Each one of them had taken on personal responsibility for cleansing the land and the air they and their families breathed by eliminating the enemies of 'God's Golden Dawn'. They knew that the only true words came from those building the new cities, cities based on good Christian principles. The leaders had proven to them that God did not speak through heathens and wizards, whose attempts at knowledge through psychic means was interfering with the holy vibrations of God's people.

Jacob continued to listen while Sal slept. He was anxious to return to the mountain and discuss what he had learned with Rowan and the others, but did not want to bring attention to his and Sal's camp by leaving abruptly. When Sal opened his eyes, Jacob quietly suggested that before they continued on their journey they hide any sign of metaphysical interest, then took the eagle claw he wore from around his neck and replaced it with a crucifix. Sal put Juniper's crystal in his pocket and they mounted their horses and waved at the 'Thorns of Christ' as they passed. At a shout from one of the men they slowed their progress. Sal held his knife ready as the man ran abreast of them and asked them what happened to the rider of the extra horse. The nostrils of Sal's horse flared as the mare sensed her riders violent intention.

"Who wants to know?" Sal said in a voice that sounded almost like a snarl. Jacob answered quickly, "Just an extra, we've a long way to travel. We're gonna get the wives and kids and bring them into God's fold." Jacob felt relief that the man had only been interested in the possibility of exchanging food for the purchase of a horse for his daughter. Politely refusing, Jacob rode on, a tingle lifted the hairs on the back his neck, he had never been confronted with persecution. The remainder of their journey was calm, except for an encounter with some inept bandits. Amazingly, Sal allowed the thieves to escape with their lives. Jacob laughed, then said, "Juniper really is good for you. And, I might add, the rest of the world, too."

" Thank you, brother Jacob, I'm trying." Sal commented with a touch of sarcasm. Although Jacob didn't comment on the fact that this was the first Sal had called him by his given name, he was aware and accepted it as a sign of Sal's social, if not spiritual development.

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The woman who sat across from Jerome  exuded personal power and confidence, however, it was clear to him that now the intent of that power had taken a drastic turn.  While traveling, Joan had also made a fairly accurate assessment of Jerome. The noise of the helicopter, although muted, had been more conducive to sleep than conversation.   Now that they had arrived at his home in Alaska Jerome seemed more relaxed.   Casually, Jerome led Joan into a small kitchen and put water in a kettle for tea. Joan surveyed her surroundings. The furnishings were not cold or opulent, as she had imagined, but were comfortably masculine and simple. Settled on the comfortable sofa, Jerome gave Joan an update on the improvements that had been made on the snitch. What most citizens did not know is that the snitch was programmed with a lethal code. When activated, a micro particle would be released from the 'snitch' into the person's bloodstream. Using the Melatonin trail, it would backtrack its way to the pineal gland in the brain. After attaching itself to the gland it could be used to either enhance psychic power or kill the host by causing a brain embolism. Only those persons holding positions of power would have their psychic powers enhanced, others would die seconds after the attachment was made. Those in power were also subject to the final stages of the lethal code. However, their death would be prevented as long as they remained within the boundary that was programmed specifically for them. Quizzically, Joan asked, "And who was the devious bastard that came up with this idea?"

" The same person who originally developed the snitch, Emmanuel Arimathaea."

" No shit!" Joan shouted "Of course, it would take someone that brilliant. And now he seems to be running the show, at least that's what's being advertised." Thoughtfully, Joan paused deciding whether to ask Jerome's opinion of the things Dr. Sherman had said. As if reading her mind, Jerome answered," You've noticed the coincidence of what is prophesied in the bible and what is occurring now. You were there when the 'abomination' was installed at the top of Mount Sinai, and now, you're having difficulty believing what you know to be true.

He went on to tell Joan about contact with alien life forms and the arguments for and against the transmutation of the human soul. For many hours, they discussed religious and philosophical concepts. Eventually the conversation turned to the development of the alien 'Infinity Vortex', Gaf Rockwood's role and the intention of the Illuminati to destroy it using their combined psychic forces. Once each member of the Illuminati was implanted, their already considerable psychic power would become greatly enhanced. After that, it was only a matter of time before the exact location of the vortex would be pinpointed and eliminated. He did add that any one member of the Illuminati could for a very short time set up a barrier to delay the destruction, but of course, that person would eventually be overcome and the lethal code triggered. He also explained that the aliens had a solution for preventing the destruction of the Infinity Vortex that he would discuss when their plans were finalized. He hoped to have the plan confirmed and everything arranged before the exact location of the Vortex was discovered. Joan estimated it would take her several weeks in order to access all the available information on the snitch. To her dismay, all the research had to be completed using the printed documents because accessing this material via Jerome's computer terminal was too risky. What he wanted from Joan was a method for bypassing the lethal code. There was no getting around the fact that Joan would have to have an implant in order to avoid suspicion. She agreed, thinking the whole thing was very exciting. " Oh, and in your spare time, I'd like to teach you repelling." Although puzzled, Joan's only comment was," Sounds like fun." ----

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Katrina had not slept well. Her frustration over the inability of anyone, including herself, to find the location of the Infinity Vortex was quickly escalating. After weeks of fruitless effort, she decided that a change of scenery was necessary. Now, she watched the sun rise majestically, altering the shade of the red rocks of Sedona. Many years ago, she had stumbled upon this place and, as a lark, decided to reshape it according to her personal whims. It had been the perfect 'new age' citadel. Millions had flocked here in order to buy spiritual passage. The power this gave to those to whom they so cheerfully gave their money was something that they gave little thought. 'Money, is nothing but a simple tool.' Katrina thought, 'a tool to pry open the path to another's soul.' A prime example of this had been the 'psychic hotline'. Even she had been surprised at the success of what she had first begun as a joke. The phrase "You get what you pay for" was so ingrained in the culture that a majority of the populace instinctively believed that anything of value had to cost a lot of money. 'Fools!' Katrina thought with disdain, 'Little did they suspect that not only were they allowing another entity to profit monetarily, but were also relinquishing, with free will, their own spiritual power and energy. And those who greedily took, became sucked into the trap they had created when they subjected themselves to the destructive power generated by using another so carelessly. A perfect circle built from lies'. Now, overlooking the city, she was glad she had shielded it from the chaos that destroyed the rest of the world. She was entirely alone here, except for those guarding the entrance to the haven she had created. Glancing to the boxes stacked in the corner Katrina returned to the problem at hand. After sifting through their contents repeatedly, she could not help thinking that a clue to the exact position of the Vortex was in the box that contained that woman's childhood memories. Katrina was a woman who always trusted her instincts, and so again, she browsed through the letters, bangles, and beads that had once been Juniper's secret treasure. So far every plan she had ever set in motion had succeeded. The Vortex would be destroyed.

Katrina's detailed inspection of the contents of the tattered shoe box was interrupted by what sounded like a shot. 'Impossible.' she thought, as she went to the large window to investigate the noise. The view from the large window was, as usual, spectacular. At first. she saw no sign of activity. But suddenly she saw movement on the highway. Moving to the telescope that stood on the patio, she adjusted the focus and was unable to believe her eyes. A dilapidated Volkswagen, a shade that was sometimes gauchely referred to as 'puke green', was creeping along up the hill with a jerking motion. "Well what a pleasant surprise it's the Prophet Staepe coming for a visit. I thought he was dead." she said aloud. A sneer curled her upper lip as she continued to observe his advance. Katrina went in the lavatory to check her appearance. Satisfied, she pulled a long black gown made from a light billowing fabric from the closet and covered her slim athletic body. Katrina almost skipped as she descended the curved staircase to await her adversary's arrival.

"What a crafty old devil you are to have found me. I'll get you this time." she announced to the Universe. As if on cue, the chimes announced the Prophet's arrival. Katrina greeted him and ushered him inside. Refusing her offer of refreshment, he abruptly stated his reason for visiting. The raspy voice, familiar to thousands of radio listeners, echoed through the house with an ominous tone, "Choice! This is your last chance, Katie. What's your answer?" Katrina glided over to the sofa, and sat before responding, "Well, can't you at least be civil?" The prophet Staepe would not be swayed from his duty. He restated his position adding, "Even though you tried many times to have me killed, I'm here to tell you that you still have one last chance to redeem your soul." Katrina also, stubbornly held her position. "You're here because your side is losing. I should kill you, but I'd rather see the expression on your face when you realize that everything you've fought to gain has been destroyed and Lucifer is finally recognized as the only true God. It is his son, Emmanuel, that will be your salvation."

" You know you can't destroy me." Ignoring her last comment he continued his final effort to impress upon her the importance and power of her free will. "Think, woman, remember who you really are. Remember back eons ago, to the plan. When you did not inflict this aspect of egocentric power mongering upon the human race."

" It's much too late for that you old fool!" She screamed at him. The Prophet would not argue with the aspect of evil. As he turned and walked out the door, he said, "The choice is always there and always yours to make."

" Wait!" She shouted. Hoping she would tell him of her decision, he paused, but did not turn to face her as her question reached his ears. " How did you get past my guards?" she asked. Shaking his head he spoke the last words he would ever say to her, "They didn't see me, Katie, they never do."

Katrina's pulse raced with confusion and anger as she watched the Prophet get into the van and putter away in a cloud of blue smoke. Slamming the door, she stomped over to the bar and poured a glass of wine. Returning to the sofa she sat, determined to calm herself, the past few years had taken their toll. 'Clearly, the man was wrong,' she thought as she put aside her emotions in order to process what he had actually told her. A mental list quickly formed in her head as she thought of what she had sacrificed in order to win. 'Even the only child I would ever conceive'. Every time she let herself remember the small child she had allowed to be raised by others a tiny thread of doubt would appear. Quickly brushing it away, she tried again to justify all she had done for the good of the whole. She had worked too hard and sacrificed so much for too long to just give it all up for a promise of transmutation that would probably end in oblivion. 'But, what if he's right?' Katrina was still holding a running debate with herself when she climbed the stairs and entered her room. As she left the room, she didn't feel the rumble deep in the universe, however, her untouched wine, testified to the unease felt by Satan's minions, as it quivered in the goblet.

Katrina cleared her head as she often did with a steaming hot shower. After rubbing her body briskly with a rough towel, she dressed and returned to the task she had begun earlier. So determined was she to make this the last time she would need to sift through that old shoe box that she grabbed it in such a rough manner that its contents flew through the air and landed on the floor around her. Irritated with herself for letting the Prophet get to her, she kneeled and almost hurled Juniper's things into the box. As Katrina stood, box in hand, she spotted a crumpled scrap of paper on the rug near her bed. The old paper nearly tore as she attempted to flatten it out on the table. Although the ink was old and faded, she recognized the very distinctive characters of Nordic writing and read the message aloud, "The path of light begins at the wedding of Ucayili and Maranon. Let the waters of this union ignite the crystal of hope." For over twelve hours, Katrina sat holding the message in her hand trying to make her final choice.

 

.........................

The image of Ekleipsis slowly faded from memory. The old man could remember the details, but it seemed as if it had been experienced by someone else. Gaf found himself back at the cavern pool. The pale green glow coming from the bottom of the cool water was soothing and his thoughts drifted back to Molly. Suddenly the pool started to shimmer and a shadow of a raven began to form. He was captivated by the image and felt himself falling into the pool. However, he had been down this road before and was aware that his thoughts were generating the image. If he let it go much further he would soon find himself occupying the form of the raven. He could feel the tug of inspiration and thought that by speaking aloud he might find some solutions to the quest. "OK, start from the beginning old man. The task is to find a way to focus my personal awareness in the manifest and non-manifest at the same time. They called it touching the edges of transmutation. But, as soon as I begin to focus on me everything goes batshit. OK, so I've got to focus on me without thinking about the me that I'm familiar with. How the hell do I do that, when I only know one me? The trick seems to be in finding out who just asked the last question without using any of the old reference points."

Staring into the pool Gaf attempted to define himself without any external references. Eventually, he found himself on stuck with no where to look. No matter how hard he tried he could not grasp any feeling of self awareness without using the old manifest references. He then determined that an alternative might be to imagine a self awareness that was not based on the traditional. For starters, he decided to become a sound. Intensely, he focused his thoughts on pleasant sounds he had heard in the past. Within an Instant, he found himself bouncing off the walls of a large opera theater he had visited in San Francisco. However, he was without physical form. He just had the impression of being bounced, somewhat like a ping pong ball. 'Damn!' he shouted to himself. 'I think and then I am, but the 'I am' came before the thought. So, it is not I think and therefore I exist; but I exist, therefore I exist as I think.'

That last thought gave the old man an intense headache. The pain brought him up sharply as he stared at his reflection in the pool. Very gradually his thoughts of himself began to form in the third person. The only way he could hold on to the concept was by saying aloud, "It's Gaf looking at his reflection in the pool, not me." He tried this same tactic with the notion of being a sound, however he soon found that he felt a need to name the sound in order to refer to it as an experience. 'Some sounds', he thought, 'are named by what they represent. Such as a the sound of a whistling tea pot.' The irony, imbedded in the title of a child's song quickly brought forth a bout of hysterical laughter. But he had no mouth to laugh with 'so how can I be laughing, I'm a little tea pot', he thought. An again, he heard the echo off the cavern walls, "Who is it that asks the question?"

The 'tea pot' experience was more than the old man was prepared to handle. With great effort of will he focused on his past life with Molly. However, those memories seemed more and more like a dream. Every so slowly his body as 'Gaf' began to reform at the edge of the cavern pool. Again, he questioned his sanity and the ice cold fear of being adrift in a schizophrenic sea of madness, froze his very soul. And there, at the point of madness, the clarity of self broke through the chains of linear thought. The dim tunnel walls faded and with a joy beyond description he reached for his own self awareness. In that moment, on the very edges of the continuum of existence, his spirit blended with the song of the universe as he reached for the tether of hope.

.........................

Over the next three weeks Joan studied hundreds of documents. It was during this time that her own snitch was implanted just beneath the skin of her underarm. No one questioned Jerome when he requested the high access security codes for Joan. It had been well established that she was his mistress and would travel with him. The implant process was quite painless and there was no remaining scar. The incision required no more than a couple of butterfly band aids and in no way interfered with her new hobby of mountain climbing and repelling. Jerome was very proud of her and jokingly referred to her as a mountain goat. At the end of the third week Joan was not only in greatly improved physical shape, but felt confident that she understood the operations of Snitch's lethal code. With Joan's research complete Jerome determined they were ready to ask for the cooperation of those on Mount Wilson. However, he was reluctant to begin the process, until he knew the exact location of the Vortex. Since this information could only be received from Katrina, there was little left to be done. Jerome was sure that as soon as Katrina discovered its exact position, she would initiate destruction of the Vortex without delay; and they were ready.

Jerome and Joan both felt a strong sense of satisfaction from the large task they had completed. Now it was time to relax. Over the many hours spent in close contact their relationship grew into one of friendly cooperation. Each instinctively anticipated the response of the other. "Want to walk down to the river?" They said in unison, and then laughed as they walked out into the bright noon sun. The air was clear and clean, regenerating their spirit as they hiked up the rocky river bank to the top of the hill. Jerome watched Joan as she lifted her arms to the sky, twirling until, overcome with dizziness, she fell to the ground. Jerome had not found himself this comfortable with a woman since his wife had died. Of course, he occasionally pursued a casual physical relationship and, until recently, did not desire anything more. However, Joan was different, from the others. Not only was he physically attracted to her, but unbelievable as the thought was, he was also attracted to her intelligence and quick wit. For over an hour, they lay on the grassy hill staring at the clouds like children, pointing out to each other faces and dragons.

Suddenly, Joan jumped up announcing she was starving and raced down the hill. 'This is crazy,' she thought as she slowed her pace at the rapids, 'This is no time to be falling in love.' However, she had known for weeks now that this was a man with whom she could live a long and productive life. Abruptly, she fell to the ground as Jerome tackled her from behind. The river seemed to explode, roaring its approval as they made love for the first time. "Next time, it will be slow and easy," Jerome said, as he helped Joan to her feet. " Now I'm hungry, too. Lets eat!" Joan beat him to the refrigerator and pulled out an assortment of food. After their hunger was satisfied, Jerome lit a fire in the huge stone fireplace then pulled a bottle of wine and two glasses from the cupboard, while Joan selected music from Jerome's antique collection of Rhythm and Blues. They sat on the floor toasting each other as they stared into the image of the flames reflected in their lover's eyes. Each touch from Jerome seemed to be burned into her soul as they slowly explored each others bodies. Jerome's desire was ignited by her physical strength and passion. Neither was aware how much time had passed when they woke. The fire had burned down to a few embers. Their bodies chilled, they soaked in a hot shower. Wrapped in a bath sheet, energetically drying her hair, Joan was unable to hear the electronic beeping of the telephone in the bedroom. Checking the results of her effort in the huge bathroom mirror, she saw Jerome looking at her from the doorway. "That was Katrina, we've got three days." That was all Joan needed to hear. She knew the plan by heart and was prepared.

End Chapter 18